With long, fluid strokes, she pumps my dick with her hand. I have to grit my teeth to stop from coming in her face. No other woman has ever excited me like her.
“This,” she says as she strokes me with one hand and splays the other against my chest. “Is what I want next.” She runs a finger over my tip and spreads the bead of liquid over my shaft so that her hand slips and slides across my skin. Her head dips, and her plump lips close over my cock. She wraps one hand around the base and works it while her tongue and mouth build suction.
“Jesus Christ, Chloe,” I groan.
That drives her on, and her head bobs faster, her hand working in unison. She sucks and fucks me with her mouth until I’m at the edge of heaven. Just as I’m about to give her the “heads up” signal—both literally and figuratively—she cups my balls with her free hand and squeezes. I come in her mouth without warning. She doesn’t flinch, but swallows me down like she’s ravenous for more.
This time I say, “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Chapter Eighteen
I start to wake with something cold and wet at my cheek.
Nice. Maybe Chloe decided to ride my face. I don’t open my eyes, but try to turn into the wetness with my mouth open and ready just like my prick. A tiny tongue tries to French kiss me, and my eyes fly open.
A sleeping Chloe is twined with me skin-to-skin.
A small, hairy mutt is glaring down at me like he’s got expectations, and I suddenly experience shrinkage at an embarrassing level. I have no idea how long we’ve been asleep, but my plan to go the distance all night long is shot to hell. I don’t know how or why, but I was so content with her lying in my arms after she blew me that I drifted off to sleep. And dreamt of fucking her all over again.
What is it with my insatiable appetite for this girl?
Truth is, the fucking part didn’t happen until the end of the dream. The first part was Chloe and me in my car. We drove upstate to the house where I grew up. The house I still own but haven’t been to since my parents’ death. In my dream, they welcomed us with open arms and fell in love with Chloe instantly. And my sister, Ava, was there too. Both pissed and happy that I was engaged to her friend.
Engaged.
My chest tightens, and I look at Chloe, blinking her into focus. I try to shake her awake. “Wake up, sweetheart.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks, stirring against me.
“Your dog. He wants something.” I look at Toby, who is stock-still and staring me down.
She yawns and looks at the clock on her nightstand. “He probably needs to go for a walk.” She starts to get up, but I pull her back down.
“Stay in bed.” I press a kiss into her hair and disentangle myself to get up. “I’ll go.” I find my glasses on the dresser and look at the clock. It’s twelve-thirty in the morning. “You shouldn’t be walking him in the middle of the night. It’s not safe.” I pull on my boxer briefs. Then I soak in Chloe.
She’s stretched out, looking sexy and satisfied. So damn beautiful that it hurts to look at her.
“I usually walk him around ten o’clock every night, then he’s good until morning.” She yawns again, and licks her lips. “But I got preoccupied tonight and forgot.”
I pull the velvet comforter back and pat my side of the bed. “Get under the covers. I’ll be right back.” She snuggles under the covers, and the last thing I want to do is get dressed and leave her warm bed and hot body to walk a dog on a cold autumn night. Her hair is tousled and sexy, her skin is flushed. She looks thoroughly fucked, and I give myself a pat on the back for a job well done.
“Thank you,” she says, sleep in her voice. “His leash is on the kitchen counter next to the treats. Take some treats and the key card with you. It’s in the side pocket of my purse.” She nuzzles the pillow. “Purse is on the counter too.”
I get dressed and pull on my jacket in the living room. Before I do anything else, I retrieve my phone from my jacket pocket and place an online order for flowers to be delivered to the office first thing tomorrow morning. Only the biggest bouquet of red roses to represent romance, with purple filler flowers, a purple ribbon, and a purple vase to represent all that sexy lace I had the pleasure of watching her take off tonight will do. I have the card signed “Thanks for dinner and dessert.” She’ll know what I mean.
I find the leash and treats, then reach for her leather Michael Kors bag. I haven’t rummaged through a woman’s purse since Ava was sixteen. It was a few months after our parents died, and I was suddenly a brother, mother, and father to Ava all at once. I knew she’d been having a really tough time dealing, so I went through her purse, looking for anything that might be trouble. I wanted to nip it in the bud, like a good parent should. Instead, I pulled out a tampon. In front of my buddies, Dex and Oz. Who laughed me into the next year.
After that I was cured and never breached another woman’s vault of secrets again.
But I don’t want Chloe to have to get out of bed when I need to reenter the building, so I examine the bag. She said the side pocket, right? I look for a side pocket, but there isn’t one visible. So I slowly unzip the purse like it might detonate. When it doesn’t, I look inside and voila. There is a side pocket. It’s small, so I wedge my fingers around the contents and pull out a key card and her phone.
I can’t help it. I look at the screen. A dick move, for sure, but I can’t deny my curiosity. The text messages are still open. Adam’s name is at the top, and there’s a text from him that says, “I was thinking about you. We should talk.”
Jealousy burns through me like an inferno.
The text is time stamped just after seven. About the time Chloe was working in the kitchen, and I was feeding treats to her dog. Chloe hasn’t replied. Yet.
I have no right to feel so possessive. Technically, she isn’t my girl. Adam is her boss, and it could be work-related. Didn’t sound the least bit professional to me, though. Texting “I was thinking about you” to a woman is almost as intimate as texting “What are you wearing.” Both would typically lead to sexting, and that usually happens with someone you’re fucking. Or someone you want to fuck.
Another hot stab of jealousy sears through my chest.
I don’t want Chloe to fuck someone else while we’re on our own week-long fuck-a-thon. Honestly, I don’t like the idea of her fucking anyone else. Ever. And that thought nearly causes my head to implode.
Toby yaps at me, and five minutes later I’m strolling down the street with the dog trotting along beside me. He sniffs one tree and then the next, but isn’t satisfied with either spot.
Finicky little shit.
“Dude. Come on. I could’ve drained the monster five times by now.” Toby looks up at me like I’m Godzilla and he’s an innocent ant that might get squished under the giant’s foot. I get down at his level and look him in the eye. “You’ve got this.” I scratch his head. “Let me tell you how it’s done.”
Yes, I’m trying to reason with a dog. Out in public for anyone to see.
I close a treat into my fist, tap the tree trunk we’re standing next to, and say, “Pretend this is Adam’s head.” Immature, but I don’t give a shit. I hold my hand against the tree at Toby’s nose level. He sniffs my fist, licks my hand, then proceeds to hike his leg and water the trunk.
Toby just might be a canine genius.
“Good boy.” I give him two treats for being so smart. We head back toward Chloe’s apartment, and I stop at another tree. I close another treat in my fist, tap it against the tree trunk, and say, “Adam is a dickhead.”
Toby hikes his leg and takes a piss.
He deserves the whole bag of treats as far as I’m concerned. And my opinion of small dogs just improved exponentially.
Chapter Nineteen
When I walk past Chloe’s office bright and early the next morning, she’s busy at the round side table with two members of her team from Simmons & Richards. There are no flowers sitting in her office yet, and that irritates me. I wanted them to
be waiting for her when she arrived.
I stop at Leticia’s desk for messages and to check in like I always do. She’s on the phone, but hangs up just as I walk up.
“That was reception.” She stands. “Flowers are downstairs for Chloe. I’ll go get them so she can keep working.”
I hold up a hand. “I’ll get them. I need to take care of something on a lower floor anyway.”
Leticia eyes me suspiciously, but I turn and walk away before she can needle it out of me. The woman isn’t above waterboarding to get information when she knows something isn’t square.
When I get to the reception area in the rotunda, a bouquet of white Casa Blanca lilies are sitting on the front desk. I know the name of the lilies because they were my mother’s favorite. My father used to send her a bouquet on special occasions, or sometimes for no reason at all. They’re beautiful and very grand, which is why mom loved them. But they are not what I ordered. The florist is going to catch nine kinds of hell for this, because I spared no expense.
“Hi, Leo,” our receptionist, Monique, greets me. She’s about the same age as Leticia, and they’re fast friends. They have each other on speed dial, so the phone lines probably started sizzling during my ride down. They’ll likely catch on fire as soon as I step away if I let on the flowers are from me.
“Good morning, Monique.” I try to act like I know nothing about the flowers other than I’m there to pick them up for Leticia because I happen to be coming this way. “Is this the delivery I’m supposed to bring up to the executive floor?”
“Yes,” she says. “They’re for Chloe Evers.” She’s staring at me, trying to get a read on my expression.
I stay as cool as the chilly morning wind I had to brace myself against on the way to work. Just call me Mr. Nippy.
Okay, don’t call me that. It sounds nerdy.
“I’ll see that she gets them.” I swipe the vase off the counter and head back to the elevator. Once the doors close and I’m alone, I pull the card free to make sure the florist didn’t screw that up too.
When I open it, a dull throb starts at my temple.
I couldn’t resist, since they are your favorite.
Love, A.
Adam, the rat bastard, is trying to win Chloe back. And worse, he knows her favorite flower. I don’t. In fact, it’s glaringly apparent that I don’t really know her at all. The small detail that she loves the same flower my mother did should be something I discover from Chloe. Not from her douchebag ex.
I replace the card and drop the flowers at Leticia’s desk as I pass by. “See that she gets these.”
“Reception just called,” Leticia says. “Chloe is a popular girl. A bouquet of red roses just arrived for her downstairs.”
I don’t offer to get them. I don’t say anything at all. I just go to my office and shut the door. Thirty minutes later, I’m immersed in an online game of chess. It’s what I do to clear my head when Dex and Oz aren’t available to play. When it takes me ten moves to win instead of four, I know I’ve let a woman get inside my head and rewire my brain.
Chloe knocks on my door, and I wave her in. She shuts the door behind her.
“Thank you for the flowers.” She gives me a shy smile. “They’re beautiful.”
But not as beautiful as Casa Blanca lilies, because those are your favorite. Adam has won this round of our pissing contest. His were even delivered first, which kind of makes mine anticlimactic.
Not a word I’m particularly fond of in any context.
Which is why I made damn sure nothing was anticlimactic about last night.
“You’re welcome.” I keep my voice neutral, and uncertainty flashes in her eyes. “Did you need something?” I’m acting like a prick, mainly because jealousy is something I’ve never experienced until I met Chloe. I don’t quite know how to handle it.
“Um, yes.” She laces both hands together in front of her, one thumb rubs the other. Her expression brightens. “The two-for-one sale coupons and ‘LADIESFIRST’ codes went out late last night. They’re getting a lot of hits and downloads. Your sister did the graphic work for them.”
Ava hasn’t mentioned it, so I nod. “She’s damn good at what she does. It was smart to utilize her.”
Chloe smiles. “I dropped a few names associated with Checkmate, and that got me bumped to the top of Ava’s priority list.”
Chloe’s wit lightens my mood. The fact that Adam Richards is a dick isn’t Chloe’s fault. I need to get over my petty jealousy. I guess what bothers me the most is that I don’t really have the right to be jealous. I agreed to Chloe’s terms, which put a deadline on our arrangement. Even so, I can’t stand the thought of Adam Richards worming his way back into her personal life.
“I’ll call the sales department,” I say. “They can report online and in-store figures to us. They won’t be exact, but it’ll give us an idea on the effectiveness of the promo.”
She nods. “That will be helpful to measure the impact of our immediate efforts.” Her thumb keeps working against the other. “By the way, Gerard and Magnus have made themselves available any time for questions or information. I can see why they’re so important to the company. I’m going to owe them my firstborn when this is over.”
I finally let a smile turn up one side of my mouth. “Just don’t give them Toby. I kind of like the little guy.”
“Maybe they’d take one of my sisters instead. I’ve got so many, I doubt my family would notice.” Chloe laughs deep and hearty, and the sound fills my office. Warms me from the inside out like my favorite flavor of hot coffee on a cold day.
I don’t respond because I’m letting the sound of her breezy laughter coast over me, float around me, caress my ears.
Her thumb starts to work again. “Camera crew is set up in the conference room and ready to interview all three partners. I need contact information from close family members… female family members… so I can line up their interviews. I’ve arranged for Magnus and Gerard to walk the camera crew through the studio process.” Now her thumb is working furiously against the other.
“You have Ava’s number, I presume?”
“Yes. Um, anyone else you’d like to be interviewed?”
You mean like a mother? “No.” I shake my head. I should tell her why, but I keep it to myself for some reason. I’m pissed at Adam for poaching something special that should’ve been between me and Chloe. Sending her white lilies would’ve been a great way to start a new relationship that’s become so very important to me somehow. Especially since I ended another very important relationship with the same flowers sprayed over mom’s casket. I’m afraid if I blurt out the truth about my parents now, I’ll sound like a sulky little boy. “Unless you want to interview Leticia, or any of the women who work at Checkmate. I’m confident in what they’ll say. You can even conceal their identities if you want, so there’s no bias to their statements.”
She nods and gives her mouth a not-a-bad-idea quirk. Then she stands there like she wants to say something else, but doesn’t.
Guilt tightens around my stomach because I’ve caused that same lack of self-assurance to settle over her that her ex did, and that wasn’t my intention. I wanted to do the opposite. No matter what happens between her and me, I never want to make her feel less than the beautiful, smart woman she is. If she cuts me loose after our arrangement is over, I’ll let her go with no regrets that I’ve gone down this path with her.
I inhale, deep and sharp. “What is it, Chloe?” My voice softens like melting butter, just like my heart because she’s standing there so vulnerable and unguarded.
“I had a really nice time last night, Leo.” She gives me a shaky smile.
“I did too,” I say and hope both my tone and my expression are as affectionate as I intend. “It was the best ever, Chloe.”
The uncertainty in her stance, her countenance, her expression, seems to evaporate.
“I even made friends with Toby.” I chuckle. “Maybe I’ll adopt him if the shelt
er doesn’t find another home.” Because the little mutt might be all I have left of Chloe when this comes to an end.
I stare down at my desk, unsure what to say next. It’s like I’m back on the chess team, and too shy to speak to a pretty girl. A thick, awkward silence stretches between us.
“Is something wrong, Leo?” she asks.
Yes. There’s something very wrong with a rat bastard who has already hurt you trying to get you back, and I want you to tell him to fuck off, find another job at another PR firm… and be mine and mine alone.
I rub my eyes and heave out a sigh, because I don’t know whether I’m coming or going anymore. I knew the score when I agreed to this arrangement. But maybe I’d like to move the goal posts. I’m caught in a game with undefined rules and no strategy. There’s only two things I’m completely sure about right now—a) I want my thing with Chloe to last longer than a few more days so that we can clearly establish what kind of thing it is beyond great roof-raising sex. And b) I will not go to the mat with an asshole like Adam Richards. Sure, I want to go up against him for the sheer joy of kicking his ass. But that’s not the point. The point is if Chloe still wants that bastard, if she’s even entertaining the slightest thoughts of giving him another chance after he’s treated her so badly, then I’m out. My relationship with Chloe turns purely professional and stays that way.
I scrub a hand over my face. I’ve been slammed with a lot of emotions already this morning over Chloe and my parents. And I’m only on my first cup of joe.
“I’m good.” I let a smile quirk up one side of my mouth. “Just tired from a late night.”
A sexy blush colors her high cheekbones.
“How about you? Aren’t you tired?”
She shrugs. “More like invigorated. I haven’t had a late night in a very long time.” The glint in her eyes turns naughty. “I was hoping we might be up late again tonight, if you’re free.”
ForePlay: A Checkmate Inc. Novel Book 1 (The Checkmate Inc. Series) Page 13