Deacon: A BWWM Billionaire Romance

by Notaro, Paige

  Someone settled into the railing at my side. Even if I hadn’t known who it would be, the spicy pine scent that mingled with the dust would be a tip off.

  “Good call,” Deacon said. “Privacy is more comfortable.”

  “Deacon, I told you I don’t want to mix pleasure and work. I thought you understood that.”

  “I do.” Ice tinkled as he swirled his glass. “But I also realized that people like you and me don’t get off work much.”

  “I’m flying back home tomorrow,” I said.

  “Are you propositioning me for the weekend?”

  I rolled my eyes at the heavens. “Can’t we just wait to explore this till the project is over?”

  “You seemed less eager for space last weekend at the country club.”

  “And it got you in trouble.” I turned to him. “See, it’s not safe for either of us.”

  Deacon laughed so madly, that half the roof glanced at him. “Darlin’, don’t take it the wrong way but my mother and I have beef stretching back decades. You’re a bit player in that drama.”

  “Still…”

  “Still what, exactly?” He edged in until his elbow covered mine. “What is it that you fear happening here? I don’t think a few potential slights from your coworkers are all that’s holding you back from an enjoyable night. You do recall how well the last one went?”

  I glanced up at his light sharp eyes. Would he understand what I was afraid of with him? I wasn’t even sure of the answer myself, anymore.

  The longer I looked, the quicker the doubts vanished. The more his rich lips became the focus of my view.

  And that sharp, powerful jaw shadowed with stubble.

  Plus, his gorgeous cheeks.

  His thick dark hair.

  Suddenly, he dipped his hand in water and splashed me.

  “What the hell!” I squealed.

  “You were looking at me too long.”

  “And?”

  “Thought this would make us look more like family friends.”

  I sputtered and then started laughing. “You heard, too, huh? I guess accountants can be pretty blind at times.”

  “Or pretty and blind.” His gaze fell nakedly on my breasts held back by my thin dark blouse. “Sorry, sexy as hell and blind.”

  I took in the sight of his muscular form poised over the railing, vast and regal. He was more than just this amazing body.

  But god, was it gorgeous. And what was he asking for? Not my life. Just another night.

  One plus one equaled two. Two times with Deacon. I’d done second dates before, and they hadn’t led anywhere. I could stop after this one.

  Or, at least, after this project.

  “Fine,” I whispered, as if betraying myself.

  “What?”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  We looked at each other, just inches away. His smile shrank into a dim hunger.

  “One by one, then?” he said.

  I nodded and swayed off towards the elevator. I didn’t stop by our table. Let the others wonder where I went. The parts of me that the vodka had dulled came blaring back to crimson life.

  I watched the blurred image of myself in the elevator doors. All the things that my body was about to receive came rushing back to me.

  A minute later, Deacon came sauntering down the hall, long and slow.

  “Told them the tab was open on everything up to the top shelf,” he said. “That should keep em' busy.”

  The elevator came up, and when the doors opened, his hand cupped my rear and guided me in firmly.

  I was under his control now.

  And there was nothing I wanted more.

  Sounds fine to me, my brain said, and it checked out completely.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Deacon

  I was a CEO. I was a strategist. I was disciplined and controlled.

  Not a whiff of that mattered the second the hotel door clicked shut. Raw heat filled my body. I was finally getting the one thing I’d been aching to bury myself in.

  Kiara stood before me like a sultry angel. Shadowy dark blouse, striped skirt, slick dark hair and silky skin shimmering in the moonlight as she backed away. The full windows twinkled at her back. ‘

  I went hard seeing her eyes flare as she hit cold hard glass. Nowhere else to go.

  “You'd have had more room if we got to the penthouse,” I said softly, shedding my jacket on my way to her.

  “Well, you didn't seem like you could hold it that long,” she said, smiling and nervous.

  Goddamn, did she know how much that demure act had me revving? Her defense just made crumbling it with my offense all the sweeter.

  “Hold it for long?” I came up on her. “Honey, I've been holding this back for weeks.”

  I sniffed longingly at the floral scent blossoming out of her very neck. She shivered. “You've been saving it for me?”

  “Every last fucking drop.” I lunged at her lips but stopped a flick of the tongue away. “You sure you can take it all?”

  Her brown eyes trembled at mine. Our future was written plain in my vision.

  “Give me everything,” she whispered.

  I pressed into her, hard and fast, my kiss driving her scraping up the glass. Her lips lay stunned against mine. I parted them with my tongue, entered her mouth brusquely. I wanted in her, completely and as soon as goddamn possible.

  Her soft, lush body yielded to my invasion, her lips moving, leaving a soft moan as she surrendered. Good god, it was like a dinner bell. I laced an arm around her plump little rear and propped her up against my mouth. My fingers slipped up her skirt, kneading her flesh through her sheer panties.

  “These sexy numbers aren't going to keep me away, darlin” I sighed into her mouth.

  “Tear them apart,” she groaned. “Tear me open.”

  She straightened against the window, sitting higher on my grip, cupping my face and drawing it deeper down on hers. Her soft tender tongue, lapped at me, sexy and insistent. She was dying to be taken as much as I was. My dick shot up towards her like a compass.

  I kissed my way off the edge of her lips and down the side of her face, mashing her other cheek into the fogged up glass. She sighed wistfully into my ear.

  “Oh god.” It sounded like an actual prayer.

  I could take it no more. I squeaked her higher up the glass, until my mouth fell full between her lush breasts. I buried deep through the raspy fabric, making her squeal, making me rock solid below.

  “Yield your flesh to me,” I said into her.

  She was getting good at taking orders now. Her dainty hands rolled her blouse off in one move. Her bra was plain and white, but you didn't need much to package a true work of art. I nudged aside a cup and sucked in a hard dark nipple.

  “Oh, no,” she moaned from above.

  I chuckled.

  “No?” I said up to her, still peering up as I took her other nipple in.

  She sucked air through her teeth as if in exquisite pain. I took more of her plump flesh into my mouth and the hiss broke into a wail.

  My smile broke back into hunger. Fuck, I wanted so deep in this girl.

  I drank hungrily from her, as if she held the elixir of the life. The glass behind hid her back to me, but I managed to unclip her bra, so that I could have her fully.

  Her arms wrapped around me, delicate but confident, tucking me into my feast. I bounced her up and down, making her voice crack and break. My cock swelled beyond anything I had ever felt.

  This was too much. A sword could only burn so hot before it had to be quenched.

  I flipped her away from the window and tipped us over onto the bed. I yanked my pants off over the granite rod protruding from me and moved up onto the mattress, already parting her legs.

  She heaved on the white sheets, her dark hair fanned behind her. Her breasts were too inviting. The contrast between her skin and the sheets drove me mad. I tasted her again, earning a soft yelp.

  She still had her skirt
on - a sheer checkered veil that reminded me of a chessboard. Well, this city did value its modesty. I found the edges of her panties under and slowly pulled them down her thick tight legs. Her eyes lay on me, patiently waiting to receive me.

  Suddenly, that wasn't enough.

  “You ready for what's coming?” I said.

  “What's coming?” Her lips curled lazily.

  “Whatever I choose to give you,” I said. “You trust me?”

  Her head wagged against the blanket.

  “Tell me you're mine,” I said.

  “What?”

  “You're mine for the night. I want you to give yourself to me.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don't understand.”

  “Just say the words. Tell me you're mine.”

  Her brow wrinkled. Why was I even asking? I'd never demanded this before, but this girl...I had a deep aching desire to possess her in a way nothing had ever confronted me before.

  I didn't truly fear her response, but the seconds ticked by awfully slow before her lips rustled again.

  “I am yours tonight.”

  A sigh escaped from her lips: surrender, sweet and final. My own jaw fell apart, water pooling in my mouth.

  She was mine. Time to show her just what that entailed.

  I yanked her to me by the legs, slid my cock up under her skirt and entered her.

  “Oh, Jesus,” she gasped.

  Her body jerked as if I had shot her. Her voice barely registered; I was so freaking shot as I slid into her tight wet channel. The room glowed as I plunged all the way in, until I could go no deeper.

  I spread her legs wider and started thrusting. Her eyes shut in rapture and she arched and trembled each time my cock coursed through her. My strokes were long and luxurious, each inch of pleasure ratcheting us together tighter and tighter, until I tore out and started again.

  The room held just the sounds of our voices running hoarse, the wet noises of our mating and the rustle of the sheets. The moon itself seemed to be smiling, my whole world was aglow.

  She was just another woman. How could she feel so good?

  Cause I had her. She was mine.

  Her feet wrapped around my back, bound me to her. I bent in deeper, arching her pussy up so I could come in from above. I sped, pounding her, bouncing her curvy little body harder and harder against the mattress.

  She looked furious and frightened and lost in ecstasy all at the same time. Her round chocolaty breasts jiggled in time with my efforts. Watching them made me thicken an impossible amount, made every motion exquisite agony.

  My cock spasmed. The end was approaching. It had to be right.

  “Say it again,” I said, pinning her body with mine. “Say what you said to me.”

  “I'm yours,” she gasped, eyes shut.

  “Say it again,” I groaned.

  “I'm yours.” Her voice rose to a moan.

  “I'm yours,” I whispered, urging her on. “I'm yours.”

  Her nails scrawled into my back. “Oh, god, Deacon. I'm yours.”

  I clutched her tight to me, our whole bodies moving over and into each other. Her legs tightened around my hips, her hands ground my back, and her lips spoke lust into my ears.

  She shook and writhed and kissed my cheeks, my ears, whatever she could reach.

  My girl was breaking. She was coming loose and yet she was mine. She squealed in pleasure.

  And then it was my turn to break for her.

  “Oh, fuck,” I groaned, feeling a vast expansion below.

  I dove into her one last time, as a torrent of heat and liquid poured out of me. It shot deep into her.

  Somewhere, I knew she would be panicking about that in a bit. But as I lay on her, coughing and heaving with exertion, her fingers stroking me with last slivers of strength, it hardly mattered.

  Besides, if she thought one time was enough... she was in for a surprise.

  ****

  A sleep well earned is all-consuming. And spending your load in the right woman three, maybe four times in a night? Oh that earns you the sort of sleep that lets you doze on through a half-dozen alarms.

  Probably why I didn’t allow myself the luxury so often. Women dulled my edge. And Kiara might as well have bashed my brain in with a hammer.

  I did, however, still recognize her voice.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I heard through my dreams, a fevered whisper.

  I opened my eyes to the room. It lay coffee stained with light through the hard tint on the windows. Kiara sat at the edge of the bed, her back bare and soft. Her supple rear lay just a tilt of my head away. I bent in and kissed.

  She jolted up, stark nude against the darkened windows. There was no playfulness in her eyes, though, just fear.

  “What’s wrong, darlin?” I asked.

  “I missed my freaking flight.”

  It wasn't even noon yet. Late, but not crazy late. “Oh. Guess it was an early one.”

  “Oh?” She stuck out the phone she was holding. “That was the plane that was supposed to take me home.”

  I rubbed my eyes and squinted. The screen held some message from some girl: When you back? Antoine was wondering if we were going to make his party. Yes, right? Don’t want to go without you.

  Kiara looked at me like it was asking her to authorize a nuclear launch.

  “I’d tell her to go anyway,” I said. “A big group of friends is better than a dozen little strands. Or so I’ve heard.”

  “I’m not asking for your advice.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  Her face grew despondent. She turned sharply to the window.

  “I want to get back to my life.”

  I went over and cupped her shoulders. “Hey, what’s the matter? I’m sorry you missed your flight, but there’s others to take.”

  She stiffened in my palms. “There’s only one flight I could have boarded today that wouldn’t have my coworkers wondering where exactly I went last night. Only one flight where I could get back in time to celebrate the birthday of one of the only real friends I’ve made in this world.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “And I gave it all up to become yours.”

  Even in her gloom, hearing her say ‘become yours’ had my cock rising so sharp I had to tip it away from her entrance.

  “It’s just pillow talk,” I said. “You’re not here for me. You’re here cause you want to be, right?”

  “That’s not better. It means I can’t trust myself.”

  “Trust yourself?” I flipped her around. “I don’t know why I put you in such a spin, darlin’. But I’m missing some data. Fill in the blanks for me.”

  She glared up at me, beautifully defiant. Maybe it sounded like I’d given her an order, but maybe it should. I was tired of catching glimpses of the gears moving her. I couldn’t help her win without seeing the game board.

  “What are you afraid is going to happen here?” I said.

  “What’s happening now. That I’ll be stuck with you.”

  “Stuck with me?” I chuckled. “You’re here with me. You’re free to leave any damn time. I don’t know why you’d want to, though. We’ve been nothing but pleasant wrapped up in these sheets.”

  Her eyebrows gathered. She shook her head. “I promised myself that I would never let anyone take my life over again. But every time I’m with you, there’s this pull. I just sink into you, sink into your life. I let everything that I’ve worked so hard to build just fade away.”

  Again, despite the tone on the words, a thrill ran up my spine. Sure, I had that effect on some women, but on a girl as strong as her?

  “I can’t stop thinking about you either,” I said. “But I’ll try to give you space if you want.”

  “That’s what I’m saying.” She sagged in my grip. “It’s me. I’m the one who always lets myself be caged.”

  Her sorrow caught my breath. “Who caged you before?” I said softly.

  She took a couple seconds, but answered. “My father.”

&
nbsp; “He locked you up?”

  Her eyes flitted up then away. “Not literally – I mean, not in a cage. He got me with something worse, though. With belief.”

  “Belief.” That clicked with a dozen other memories I had of her voice. The way she threw out religious words, the modest clothes she still always wore. It all came clear. “Your father was a very religious man, I take it.”

  She let out a throaty laugh. “The Pope would call him very religious, so you might want to use a stronger word. He was a preacher. He ran his own church.”

  “Let me guess. He was the sort to decide just how a daughter should live?”

  She nodded. “I was supposed to be his perfect child, follow his laws everywhere. At school. At home. At church, obviously. He had codes of conduct for everything. And punishments too.”

  She looked up at me, condensed in rage. “And he got me to believe every stupid word. Even as he punished me, I felt guilty for violating his commands. That, I'll never forgive myself for.”

  I did not deal well with hard emotion. I hadn’t shed a tear even as a kid learning my grandpa had passed, and he was the only Stone who'd ever been kind on me. But watching her unpack her fury, the words came easy.

  “You were a kid,” I said. “Kids all want to live up to their father’s wishes. That’s all it was.”

  Kiara just shook her head sadly. “I almost gave him my whole life. I let him pick my college, and my major – It was a religious school, of course. He wanted me to become a teacher so he could wed me off to another Christian man like himself. The only concession I got was being able to teach math instead of something softer like English or biblical history. If I hadn’t met Mira at that baseball game…”

  Mira. I’d just seen that name on her phone. “She opened your eyes a bit?” I said softly.

  “She called me a nutjob bitch.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I had just called her a cow-worshipping heathen.”

  “You called her a cow-worshipping heathen?”

  “It’s a much stronger insult in a religious college. The baseball's game the one time we meet the outside world, so I really unleashed.”

  A wide smile lit her lips now. I could not help but match it. I knew family issues. Not of her variety, but I knew how crazy trying to impress family could make you. I'd fought it my whole life. Apparently, Kiara had waited for her right moment.