Donovan (Face-Off Series Book 3)

by Jillian Quinn

  “Of course,” she says, matter-of-fact. “How about we meet in the city this week? I have an interview scheduled with the Sixers general manager, and I will be in town for a few hours. I can hang out with you after I’m finished. Would that work?”

  “Fine,” I huff, “I will take what I can get. But I’m serious about working out a schedule. We have a lot to cover for the blog. Between our schedules and the men drama, our posts have gone out later than normal. Our followers are going to hate us if we don’t get our shit together.”

  “I’m sure they are doing fine without us.” I’m shocked by the seriousness in her voice. “They’ve been with us long enough that they will hang in there until we find more time to write and schedule our posts.”

  Before Tyler came crashing into her life, Kennedy loved writing articles for the blog, found a certain amount of enjoyment from entertaining our readers. Things have changed so much over time that I have yet to come to terms with it. I know this is for the best for Kennedy. But the selfish side of me wants my bestie all to myself. No one can fault me for that.

  “I happen to know some of our followers wait each week for our posts, and I for one, do not want to disappoint them. Whatever you have going on with Tyler is fine by me, but you need to get it together, babe. Get your head out of your ass and back into our writing. We have a shit ton of stuff to go over this week.”

  The line is silent for a few seconds, causing me to wonder if she hung up. I check the phone, and the call is still connected. “Hello. Are you there?”

  “Yes.” She grunts into the receiver. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t get all pissy with me. I am only stating a fact. Ever since you met Tyler, you have completely checked out on our blog and me. You never have time for girl stuff or even your own newspaper. That’s all well and good that you’re getting so much ass you don’t have a chance to hang out with your dearest friend, but you have other priorities. Sports Buzz will not survive if you don’t write articles and get sponsors and shit that actually matters.”

  “No, you’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, Syd.” Her apology is sincere.

  She sounds so deflated that I feel awful for being such a bitch. But as her friend, I do not want to see her ruin her life over a guy. I already did that once before. It takes a long time to build everything back up from nothing. She has worked her ass off to get where she is and I cannot standby and watch her throw her life away for a guy she hasn’t know very long. No matter how hot and rich he may be.

  “I got a little wrapped up in everything in my life that I haven’t taken much time to stop and check out everything around me. I’m sorry, Syd. Do you still love me? You must think I’m such an ass and that I’m now one of those girls.”

  She means the kind of girl that falls off the face of the earth just because she gets a boyfriend. Yep, she has become one of them.

  “You’re fine. I still love you, but please get your shit together. You have a life outside of Tyler and his monster cock. Anyway, where do you want to meet this week?”

  “You love talking about his cock way too much.” She chuckles to herself. “How about Broad Street Beans? It’s close to your house and not far from the Wells Fargo Center.”

  Knowing I will see Kennedy has me grinning like a fool. I miss our girl time. She’s my only girl friend. I never got along well with other girls, and most of my friends, apart from Kennedy, were men. I was always more comfortable with the opposite sex. The competitions between women are often so volatile that I steered clear of any drama by having one female friend I could trust and surrounded myself with guys to occupy the rest of my time.

  I take a sip from the coffee cup on my desk and smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

  My other line clicks in, alerting me of another caller. I peel the phone from my ear and check out the Caller ID. It’s Carter. I stop breathing for a second. My God, this man is persistent. Maybe he’s worth the hassle after all.

  “Sounds good,” Kennedy says, excited.

  “Hey, babe. I have Carter calling on the other line. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay, bye!” And then she’s gone, leaving me to deal with Carter alone. My stomach flutters from the nervous energy and the anticipation of what’s to come.

  Not that he’s a problem I need to sort out but damn him for throwing me off my game. I haven’t been able to write a decent paragraph since he walked into my life. I cannot have a string of days like this week, or I will be out of a job.

  “Hello,” I say, switching the calls, nonchalant.

  “Hey, sexy.” What’s sexy is his panty-melting voice. My underwear is already pooling from two words. Two motherfucking words. He is going to be the death of me.

  “Well, hello there, big guy. To what do I owe the pleasure?” My voice is a whisper, and I have trouble catching my breath. Can he tell? I hope not. A man like Carter Donovan takes pleasure in getting me wet. When it comes to that department, he has no problem. I can only imagine what sex with him would be like.

  “Nothing. I wanted to see what you are you up to.” His husky voice sounds louder this time, more in control.

  “Not much. The usual bullshit.” I frown at my computer screen. “I’m trying to write with almost no success, unfortunately. Some days the words fly onto the page, while others I sit here and pound coffees and watch porn.”

  He laughs so hard it hurts my ear. “You’re watching porn? I hope it’s the real kinky shit.”

  I scoff at his comment. “What like it’s so hard to believe that I watch porn? Women watch porn, you know.” I can hear the irritation in my voice, and I don’t like it. Why am I so moody and defensive lately? “There’s some good material in those videos. They help me write the super smutty scenes. You can learn a lot about what works and doesn’t work from watching sex on film.”

  “That’s so hot that you like porn. Mmm…You’re making me so fucking hard right now, baby.”

  Contemplating his predicament and now my own, I shout out the first thing that comes to mind. “Oh, yeah. How hard are you right now?”

  “Really fucking hard. I wish you were here to help me out with this.”

  I could use some new writing material and an orgasm, so I roll with my idea. What do I have to lose? “Carter, I want you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.” He’s practically panting in my ear, ready to get it on.

  “Grab your cock, give yourself a few strokes, and imagine me fingering my pussy.”

  “Shit, babe. Are you really?” I hear him unzip his pants, followed by noises that I can only assume are him jerking himself off. And it turns me on like no other. I wish I could see him in action.

  With my legs still propped up on my desk, I push up my skirt and peel back my panties. I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder and rub my clit first before I slip my fingers inside my wetness. “Uh-huh,” I mutter. “I’m so wet for you, Carter. I have my legs spread open on my desk and my fingers inside me. All for you.”

  “Fuck,” he grunts, and I pick up the pace.

  It’s as if we’re in the same room again, except this time we have no visual. I have to recall Carter’s massive cock from memory.

  “Sydney, you’re fucking killing me. You know that.”

  “Yes,” I purr, imaging Carter massaging himself.

  And I can’t wait to have him inside me. Every night since we met, I have done the exact same thing—masturbated to the thought of him fucking me. I want him so bad I should give in, submit to his every desire, and fulfill all his fantasies.

  While Carter might be used to being the aggressor with women, he has allowed me to boss him around and plays along with my game. The power of my pussy has made him my bitch. But when I finally give into him, I want him to take charge and fuck me like he means it. Fuck me as if it’s the last thing he will ever do in this world.

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Carter. I need to hear it. I want you to tell me all the dirty things you want t
o do to me.”

  He groans in response. “I want you to suck my cock. I’m thinking about your lips wrapped around me, taking all of me until I come in your mouth. And I want you to swallow. All of it. Like a good little whore.”

  “Yeah,” I say, my insides clamping down on my fingers. I’m so close, and with Carter’s help, this might be one of the best orgasms I ever had. “If you were here right now, I’d take your big, fat cock in my hand, lick from your shaft to the head, just to tease you, before taking all of you in my mouth. You like that, Carter?”

  “Fucking right, baby. After you’re done, I’d want you to straddle me, ride me like the dirty little girl you are, and come all over my dick.”

  “Fuck this is hot,” I moan into the phone. My juices are running down my leg, and the faster my fingers move, the closer I am to finding the sweet spot. “Keep going, Carter. I’m close, and I want you to come with me. Okay?” I can barely speak the words I am so out of breath.

  “Me, too, baby. Me, too.” He pauses for a second, but it’s too late.

  I don’t need him to keep going. My heart is beating out my chest, ready to explode. An intense heat spreads from my cheeks and chest down to my toes. Everything feels as though it’s on fire from Carter and this sexy-as-fuck phone sex. Not to mention the sound of his deep voice telling me he wants me to come on his dick. This experience is so erotic.

  As an orgasm wrecks me, making my body tremble and go numb in the process, all I can think about is Carter’s body, his soulful brown eyes, his dirty mouth that knows all the right things to say, and those adorable smiles he gives me when he’s trying to win me over. He reminds of a boy sometimes, so playful and innocent.

  Underneath it all, there’s that burly man I want to own me, make me his, and fuck me senseless. I like when he’s the aggressor and takes control. But there are times when he lets me walk all over him, causing me to wonder if he’s in this just for sex or if he wants the whole package.

  “Carter,” I moan, biting down on my lip to stifle my screams. “I’m coming…all over my fingers. Just for you.” I lean my head back against the chair and let my body take over. “Come for me.”

  “I am, baby,” he says, through clenched teeth. The sound of his flesh slapping together makes this so much more intense. “So fucking hard.”

  And when he comes, it’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. No, it’s definitely the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Like I could die right now, happy as shit and that would keep the smile on my face. I love the sounds men make in bed. Sometimes that alone is more of a turn on. But Carter takes it to a whole other level. Thank fuck he’s not one of those silent cummers. I can’t stand those.

  “Wow,” he finally says after he catches his breath. “The next time I see you, that pussy is mine. You got it? No more playing games with me. No fucking around.”

  I drop my legs to the floor and lean over to grab a few tissues from my desk to clean myself up. “Yes,” I hiss. “Must I remind you that you had agreed to play with me? And you never answered my question.”

  “Don’t try that shit with me, Sydney. I know you’re just pretending to hold out. We are going to fuck one way or another. And you will like it. You’ll love it. You won’t be able to get enough of me.”

  “You sound way too confident in your ability to get me into bed,” I challenge, loving the fact he’s on to me. I can still use this to my advantage.

  “It’s not even a question. I know I can. You’ll be begging me to bend you over and fuck you instead of giving me that bullshit about how I can’t touch you. And I’m coming to collect.”

  “If you like my games so much, then what’s your prize if you win?” I really do enjoy toying with him.

  “Your pussy, of course.” I can hear the cockiness in his tone.

  I frown even though I am excited about him claiming my pussy. It does not belong to him yet. “What about me? I’m feeling a little left out that my pussy gets all the attention.”

  “You were a given, considering you’re kind of attached.” He laughs to himself, apparently finding this conversation amusing. I could not agree more.

  “Then come get me,” I dare, sitting up straight in my chair, my body aching for a hot shower. “I have to get going. Lots to do today. Talk soon.”

  Before he can answer, I click the end call button. It’s all part of my master plan. Keep him wanting more.

  Spent after that session, I need a nap just to refuel so I can get back to writing. My deadline is still looming over my head. At least Carter helped me with of one of my problems. He was taking up too much of the headspace I need to write my skanky stories.

  Now that I’ve gotten him out of my system, I can shower, get some shut eye for a few hours, and go back to working on my book. My editor will be thankful for the distraction Carter provided me. He also managed to help me out with some new material I plan to use. While the new book idea involves experimenting on Carter, he doesn’t seem to mind and will play along if I keep him satisfied in the process. Game on.

  Chapter 7

  Sydney

  As per the usual, Kennedy is already waiting for me when I walk through the door of Broad Street Beans for our lunch date. No matter the occasion, I am never on time. My mother always jokes that I will show up late to my wedding. And I counter with how I will be late to my funeral. Both of these scenarios are a serious possibility given my lack of time management. I could set my alarm clock three hours ahead of the time I need to be somewhere. It wouldn’t matter. I would still end up five minutes late.

  Some would call it rude, others lazy or inconsiderate, but I attempt to show up on schedule. For whatever reason, life always has another plan for me. I am stuck in traffic, or the car won’t start, or I can’t find my wallet. There is something every time without fail as if the universe is pulling me in another direction.

  I walk over to Kennedy, who is plugging away on her laptop. She must be working on the story from this morning. As the owner of Sports Buzz, a small online paper she was able to save from her family’s fire sale, Kennedy works her ass off.

  Getting interviews from top players in pro sports has not been easy for her, despite her best efforts. Ever since Tyler came into her life, doors have opened up, and her online newspaper is thriving. Or at least she’s making enough money to keep it afloat.

  In the zone when I walk up to the table, Kennedy steals a few glances at the shorthand notes she has on the notepad next to her computer, unaware I am standing above her, waiting for her to notice me. I love watching her work. When she’s on point, Kennedy can really hammer out articles like nobody’s business.

  She studied communications at NYU, while I was off at writing conferences and touring the country for my first published book. I would visit her on the weekends and whenever I could manage enough time to get away from the constant pressure my publisher had me under.

  But things have only gotten worse for me in the past six years since I became a best selling author. The work never stops, fans want more, and the deadlines get tighter as I go. But Kennedy takes it in stride, despite being on the last of her savings and close to losing her company.

  She won’t let Tyler or me help her, and I think I love her even more for that. My best friend has always looked up to me. I can see it in the way she looks at me, the way she speaks to me with such reverence when we are around other people. But I have admired her for as long as I can remember.

  Probably from the first day we met back in high school, at the stupid preparatory academy our parents sent us. We bonded over our hatred of the school and the people in it. Since then, we have been inseparable. Or at least we were until Tyler came along and disrupted our flow.

  By the time Kennedy looks up at me, she seems startled by my presence. “You’re here. Finally. And only twenty minutes late,” she deadpans. “Of course, you look gorgeous, as always.”

  “Stop that.” I take the seat across from her, drape my purse strap over the back of the
chair, and flash Kennedy a smile. “Not to sound like a bitch, because you know I love you, but you look like crap, babe.” I flatten my palms on the table, appraising her and taking in every detail of her face, as I lean forward. “Has Tyler been keeping you locked up in a dungeon over there?”

  Reaching across the table, I attempt to take a lock of her hair in my hand, but she backs away from me before I can interrogate her further. I don’t mean any harm by my comments. It’s just she looks sick or beaten down. And I’m concerned about her health.

  Kennedy folds her arms across her chest, crossing her leg over the other, and shakes her head. “You know you can be such a brat sometimes, Syd. Tyler is taking care of me in more ways than you can imagine. I am doing just fine. Maybe you’re the one who needs a man to tend to your needs.”

  My face grows serious for a second before I break our intense staring contest, the two of us fucking with the other. I am worried about the yellowish tint to her skin. She looks sickly, far from the healthy girl I saw a few weeks ago.

  I break out into laughter, ending our stare down. “Carter and I are fantastic, thank you very much.”

  “Did you have sex with him yet?” She knows the answer to her question after all of Carter’s phone calls and visits to bitch to Tyler and her.

  He knows the rules of our game, or at least he should by now. I am not about to spell it out for him. Plus, I sort of make them up as I go and force him to adapt. We have more fun that way.

  I flick my dark curls over my shoulder and glance out the window. “Let’s just say I am making Carter work for every second he spends with me. And he can’t get enough of what I’m putting down.”

  “You have that man wrapped around your finger, huh? Some guys can only take so much,” she says, sounding like my mother trying to give me advice. At least Kennedy offers something of value, while my mom has no clue what she’s talking about most of the time. “Well, despite your many charms, Syd, you have a way of wearing men down.”