The #5Star Affair (Love Hashtagged Book 1)

by Lindt, Allyson

  She sank further into him. He didn’t have anything to worry about, size-wise. She was almost certain of that. His deep voice was as seductive as any fantasy, drawing her more into the moment with every word. She managed to make her vocal chords work. “I don’t turn it on right away. I play with my nipples first.” Bringing the memories to surface enhanced the moment.

  He pushed a breast free, and the room-temperature air was a shock, compared to the heat coursing through her. He flicked his tongue over the already hard nub, drew it into his mouth, and worshipped it with gentle licks. When he broke the contact, he blew lightly on her damp skin.

  The sudden cold made her gasp and arch her back.

  “Do you play rough?” He kissed the skin around her nipple, but didn’t focus on the nub again.

  “Sometimes.”

  He reached behind her long enough to unsnap her bra, yanked the garment down her arms, and tossed it aside. He looked her over, the appreciation in his stare making her body ache for more of his touch. He lowered his head to her breast again, and sucked one hardened numb while he pinched the other one. He grazed the sensitive skin with his teeth, and she bucked against him.

  For several minutes, he lavished attention on her, tugging and rolling, and sending sharp daggers of pain and pleasure rocking through her body. Her clit throbbed, wanting more than it was getting from grinding.

  “Ever get off that way?” His words teased her damp flesh.

  She was closer than she’d ever been to doing exactly that, but she needed more. “No.”

  “So what comes next?”

  Both of them, she hoped. She dragged up enough sense to form a full sentence. “I move lower.”

  Still massaging her breast, he grabbed her wrist with his free hand. He guided her palm to her stomach, and nudged it down. “Show me.”

  The different sources of pleasure overloaded her mind. She’d cybered a few times, and didn’t have a problem with masturbation, but talking and putting on a show… Her entire body hummed from the immersion. She undid the button and zipper on her jeans, and slid her hand down. She whimpered when she brushed her lower lips, and her fingers were instantly soaked.

  He kissed up her chest to her neck. “Are you wet?”

  She didn’t know if she could manage any noise beyond a squeak, so she nodded.

  He pinched her nipple hard, and bit into the soft flesh where her shoulder met her neck. “Make yourself come.”

  She dug her fingers into his chest for balance, and sought out her aching button with her other hand. He continued to knead, suck, and occasionally nip. The combination of sensations stole her oxygen, and made her feel like her head was floating away. Climax grew inside quickly, eager to get out after the teasing buildup. She bumped her clit, sighs becoming groans, becoming cries as orgasm tore through her. He sucked on her shoulder, biting down as she screamed out when pleasure wracked her body.

  Slowly, she jerked away from her own touch, the intensity becoming too much. He eased up as she did, intense gropes becoming feather-soft touches.

  Just as she thought she might find her wits again, and was starting to wonder how to repay the favor, he grabbed her wrist. He worked her hand free. “Christ, you really do get wet.”

  Her flush grew when he placed one of her fingers in his mouth, dragged his tongue along the pad, and sucked it clean. He looked at her, eyes dark and hungry. “You’re amazing.” His voice was heavy and strained. “And I desperately need to fuck you.”

  She dipped her head, and kissed him, pouring all the intensity of the moment into the gesture. She crushed against his lips, and molded herself into him, rock-hard nipples digging into his chest. She flicked her thumb across his brown nubs. His fingers gripped her hips hard enough she wondered if they would leave bruises. When she finally broke away, the only sound in the room was their breathing. When had the movie ended?

  She shoved the random thought aside, and extracted herself from his lap. “Me too.”

  He stood and turned her away, so his chest pressed into her back. He kissed along her neck as he spoke. “I have condoms in my night stand.”

  She didn’t need any more prompting, to let him guide her the short distance. They stopped in front of his bed, and he pushed the remainder of her clothing to the floor. She stepped out, and turned to face him. “My job.” She shoved his hands away from his jeans.

  She alternated her gaze between his face and her work, as she undid his button and dragged his zipper down, a tooth at a time. She wrapped her fingers around his cock—she’d been right about the size; she hadn’t had any toys that big—and it jerked against her touch. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. A long groan poured from his throat when she stroked the hot flesh.

  “I meant what I said about fucking you.” He looked down again, and nudged her back until she sat on the bed. He pushed her shoulders, and she fell to her back. Within seconds, he reached over her head, grabbed a condom, and wrapped himself up. There was no fanfare this time. No teasing buildup. He dragged the head of his cock along her slit, and thrust inside with a single push.

  She gasped at being spread open, her breath quickening as he pounded inside her. He grabbed her knees and pushed them to her chest, driving deeper. He hit the right spot, and her frame pinged in pleasure. He slammed against her hard and frantically, and each time he bumped her G-spot, it dialed her enjoyment up. Another orgasm grew. She wrapped her feet around his waist, and drew him in as they thrust together.

  “You’re so tight.” His words were punctuated with hard breaths. “I’m not going to last long.”

  He dropped one of her knees, and moved his hand between them. When his thumb found her still sensitive nub, the shock and the way he drove inside her pushed her past climax again. She clenched around him when she came, milking his cock, trying to focus on every feeling at the same time.

  His pants became grunts, and he pounded her faster. The frantic pace reached a peak, and his fingers tightened on her thighs. She held him in, feet pressed against his ass. His entire frame went rigid, as he let out a final gasping groan, and then shuddered.

  Still buried inside her, he leaned forward, hands on either side of her head. “You’re incredible.”

  She allowed any embarrassment she’d tucked aside earlier to flood back in. “Only with you.” Had that been too much? She shouldn’t have said that.

  But when he claimed her lips, her doubts vanished. He slid out of her, broke away, and dropped onto the bed next to her. She curled up by his side, and rested her head on his chest, letting the frantic pace of his heart glide across her thoughts and keep all but the happy ones at bay. “Does this get awkward tomorrow?” She didn’t want to ask, but better now than in the morning.

  “Only if you go back to your own bed, and pretend it never happened.” He trailed his fingers through her hair. “I’d rather you stay here tonight. And probably tomorrow night. After that, we can negotiate.”

  She pressed closer to him. “Deal.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ethan couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he made his way to his desk, the next morning. He’d only had one regret when he’d woken up, Jaycie still curled up in his bed. That they didn’t have more time together that morning. He couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed someone’s company so much.

  He plugged in his earphones, cranked the music on his cell phone, and dug in for a day of programming. Amazing woman at home, perfect job—life was good.

  The light on his office phone flashed, a familiar extension popping onto the digital display, and he turned off the music. His ears rang from the abrupt absence of sound, as he picked up the receiver. “Hey, Bossman.”

  “Join me in my office.” Bill’s words were clipped.

  “Sure. Be right there.” Concern wormed its way into Ethan’s thoughts. Work was a fairly laid back environment, for the most part. A first-thing-in-the-morning call was usually at least pleasant. Had something blown up in quality assurance? Were the
y behind on a deadline he’d forgotten about?

  Bill barely looked up at the tap on his open door. He nodded to the chairs across from his desk. “Close the door. Have a seat.”

  Ethan’s concern rose another notch. “Did you have a good weekend?”

  “No.” The single word fell flat in the middle of the room, and Bill finally faced him. “Kind of surprised you did.”

  Something told Ethan ‘Best weekend ever’ wasn’t the right response. “What’s up?”

  Bill exhaled loudly. “I should have an HR rep here for this.”

  Ethan’s entire frame stiffened. “Are you letting me go?” What was supposed to come out as a joke sounded forced.

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t know how else to say this. Have you ever exchanged…favors for a good review?”

  Fuck. How could Ethan have not realized this was going to impact both of them? The stupid links Rich had sent him yesterday. Ethan had been focused on what this meant to Jaycie, never considering it would bleed into his life, too. At least answering Bill honestly was easy. “Really? You think I had sex with someone, to get her to say nice things about my work?”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” Ethan couldn’t keep the irritation from his voice. “Why would you even ask?”

  “Are you living with this J-Dub person?”

  Great. Now he was going to get a third degree about his personal life. Fucking Rich. “Yes, but—”

  “Have you ever slept with her?”

  Fury raced through Ethan. “First of all, that’s none of your God damned business. Second, yeah, you probably better get HR in here, if this is going any further.”

  Bill rubbed the shiny spot on the top of his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Understand, though, legal is breathing down my neck, and so is marketing. If this is true…”

  Ethan spoke through clenched teeth. “Since you don’t trust me enough to know I’d never do that, I’ve only known her for a few weeks. I can prove that. Is that good enough for you?”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe you, or trust you”—Bill sounded tired—“but you’re one person in a sea of thousands here. I can’t play favorites.”

  “Are we done?” Ethan was already on his feet. He didn’t wait for a response before stalking from the office. He couldn’t believe he’d just been subjected to that. He should call his brother, Damon, and see how many of his civil rights had just been violated in that office.

  Except things weren’t nearly bad enough to go to his brother for help, even legal advice.

  “Enjoying playing house?” Rich’s question was another slash in Ethan’s growing irritation.

  Ethan whirled on him, anger surging. “What the fuck were you thinking? Was this supposed to be funny? How did you even know?”

  Rich shrugged. “I’ve known for ages. She never actually did a good job of hiding who she was. Nick just didn’t want to see it. She goes to gaming trade shows with a press pass, and her girlfriend calls her J-Dub. That demo game in your console—the one you put back in her room—kind of sealed the deal. Besides”—he stepped back when Ethan moved closer—“we’re taking this off you. Nick knows who she’s interacted with in the industry. Anyone she’s ever talked to and also reviewed. A couple more hours, and no one will remember she had anything to do with Fortuna. They’ll be focused on what she said about The Horde and other games.”

  “Back off her.” Ethan kept his voice low, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation, but hoping to convey how serious he was. “Put this to rest, and walk away.”

  “This is about her, not you. Don’t go down with that ship. Besides, it’s already got a life of its own.” Despite the arrogance in Rich’s tone, he was looking everywhere but at Ethan. “And since when is J-Dub too big a bitch to fight her own battles? Fucking guys in exchange for praise wasn’t enough, she’s got you sticking up for her now, too?”

  Ethan’s growl slipped out before he could stop it.

  Rich’s eyes grew wide, and his voice dropped. “Holy shit. You are fucking her, aren’t you?”

  A quick check of Ethan’s peripheral vision confirmed they were alone. He bunched the shoulder of Rich’s shirt in his fist, and slammed the other man back into the wall, hard enough to draw a grunt. “Make this vanish.” Ethan poured every ounce of sincere threat into the words. “I hoped you’d back off on your own, but if that doesn’t happen, I can make you suffer far worse than you’ve done to her. Never go near her again. Make this go away.”

  Rich jerked out of his grasp, and put several feet between them. “Not happening.”

  Ethan fumed, but didn’t have a retort. He didn’t have a backup plan, if Rich called his bluff. Then again, he had no idea what he was doing anyway. He couldn’t beat the shit out of the guy in the middle of the office. The last thing he needed was to deal with assault charges, but the idea was still tempting. Anger raged inside, as he made his way back to his desk and took his place in front of his computer again.

  His cell phone rang, and he groaned when he saw the name on the display. “Does thinking your name summon you now?” he said into the receiver.

  “You were thinking of me? I’m flattered.” Damon’s smooth tone crawled under Ethan’s skin. “If you’re having trouble making rent, you just have to ask.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I can’t call my baby brother to say hi?” The only time Damon called him baby brother was when he wanted something and was trying to remind Ethan who was in charge.

  “Nope,” Ethan said.

  “Fine. Ulterior-motive guy—that’s me. I’m in town for a few days. I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight.”

  “Dinner. Sure.” An evening out with Damon was the last thing Ethan needed today. Turning his brother down meant Damon would hound him the entire time he was in town, until Ethan said yes. Better to get it over with.

  Besides, Damon was only asking because he wanted a favor, and Ethan was going to grab one in return. He’d use the evening as a way to find out if Jaycie had any legal recourse in this entire mess. Slander, something. “When and where?”

  “Not sure yet. Depends on how my meetings go. I’ll text you the details.”

  “I’m not hanging out waiting for you all night.”

  “It’s ten am, baby brother. Give me until lunch, and I’ll have you details. Oh!” Damon sounded as if he’d just remembered something. “Bring your girlfriend. No, wait. You’re single again, aren’t you?”

  Ethan rolled his eyes at his cubicle wall. “No. She’d love to meet you, I’m sure.” He cringed as he hung up the phone. Maybe he should have asked Jaycie first how she felt about the term. Were they dating?

  As the day ticked by, the situation degraded from sucky, to lethally brutal. Every time Ethan popped his head up from work, there was another round of what someone said on #5StarFUQ. He tried texting Jaycie a few times, and even calling, but she didn’t answer. By the end of the day, she’d been with half the big game producers in the country, according to the hashtag. Worse, several other reviewers and rumors had been added to the list. As far as Ethan could tell, most of them were guilty of the ethical violation of being a woman in journalism and gaming.

  He sent Jaycie one last text, before he walked out of the office. Heading home. Really hope you’re okay.

  *

  Jaycie raked her fingers through her hair, and paced the short length of her bedroom. She should be working on a review, but her focus had evaporated hours ago. She’d only meant to spend a couple minutes online before she got to work. That had turned into hours of her watching in horror, as the #5StarFUQ hashtag spun out of control.

  It wasn’t just about her, anymore. The supporters claimed this was about ethics in all journalism. They were calling out her colleagues. Digging up information on who these women had dated, dumped, talked to casually in coffee shops.

  All in the name of pointing out how easily a woman’s opinion could be bought w
hen it came to video games. How easy it was to change their simple little minds about a subject they didn’t understand to begin with.

  Jaycie fixated on the stuff about her the most. She couldn’t help it. She was a slut. A whore. Fucking half of Chicago. Her vagina was the size of an airport hangar. She sucked guys off to feed her ego. Made men beg, so she’d feel less ugly.

  The insults whirled in her thoughts, churning at her grasp on reason and gnawing at her. A tiny rational part of her brain knew their opinions didn’t matter, but the reassurance didn’t stop the rest of her from fixating on the words. In the last several hours, she’d had several jobs pulled away—publications saying they couldn’t be associated with her.

  Gwen had talked her down, but had needed to get back to work, and Jaycie hadn’t been able to reply to the messages from Ethan. He’d want her to do something. To confront this and deal with it. She just needed it to go away. She’d almost sobbed when she’d gotten his last text. His worry was tangible.

  She reached the end of the room again, and a frustrated choke tore from her throat. What was she supposed to do?

  “Jace.” The way Ethan spoke the single syllable squashed some of her out-of-control thoughts, but didn’t kill her anxiety.

  She whirled. He stood in the doorway, watching her, concern heavy in his dark eyes, scruff of five-o’clock shadow on his chin. Desperation surged through her. The need to make all of this vanish and ignore it forever, the way they had last night. Except that wouldn’t solve anything. She tried to force a smile into place, and tears pricked her eyelids instead.

  “Christ. No.” He was next to her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her, and tucking her away. “I was hoping you hadn’t seen any of that today.”

  “You should have hoped harder.”

  He lifted her face, and traced a thumb along her cheek. “I might have a solution.”

  She clenched her jaw and her chest tightened. Her fears were true—he was coming to her with solutions. What were the odds he’d wanted to drop this as much as she did? “Forget it all happened?”