Rebel: Wolfes of Manhattan One

by HELEN HARDT

  The bulge.

  “You’re giving me some serious mixed signals here. Do you still want me to get out?”

  I licked my lower lip and then bit it gently.

  No. I didn’t want him to get out. I wanted to drop to my knees, take that cock out and deep throat him until he couldn’t stand it.

  “Lace?”

  That voice. Low and husky and seductive to a fault.

  I’m going to do it.

  I dropped to my knees and freed his erection, letting his trousers fall over his hips and brushing his boxer briefs down his rock-hard thighs.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he said gruffly with a swift inhalation.

  His dick was a work of art. A shade darker than the rest of him, it was curved only slightly upward with two blue veins marbling around it. A drop of fluid oozed from the tip. I darted my tongue out and licked it off.

  “Fuck, baby,” he groaned.

  Yes, he was a beautiful man. Every part of him was physically appealing. Every. Single. Part.

  I’d already thrown caution to the wind tonight. I would suck this gorgeous cock, and then I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me.

  Whatever. He. Wanted.

  He wanted no relationship? I’d give him no relationship. But first, I’d give him a night he’d never forget.

  And then I’d say goodbye to Rock Wolfe.

  Forever.

  I darted my tongue out once more and twirled it over his cockhead. He groaned again, and I couldn’t help smiling. He might be a jerk, but right now, I held a bit of power over him.

  I was going to revel in that power.

  I teased him with tiny licks and kisses all the way down his shaft until I reached his balls. I gave them a quick nip and then went back to his dick.

  I wrapped my lips around his knobby head and applied some suction. He groaned again.

  I continued to tease him this way, moving my hands to his hips to hold steady. But I was going to be in control here, at least while I sucked him.

  He tasted like cinnamon and salt, and he smelled like hot musky man. My senses were on overload. I closed my eyes for a moment, erasing the visual to concentrate on the spicy scent, the salty flavor, and the feel of his hardness in my mouth. I could only take little more than half of him before he nudged the back of my throat.

  “Baby, you suck cock like a champion.”

  I smiled in my mind since my lips were otherwise occupied. Oh, yeah. I was going to make this one night he would never forget. Then, when I refused to see him again, maybe he would feel a slight twinge of the hurt I felt when he said there was no chance of a relationship.

  Revenge wasn’t normally my style. What the hell? I was enjoying every minute of this. We would both be satisfied. Just because I intended never to be with him again after tonight didn’t mean anything. We would still enjoy ourselves this last time.

  I wanted to make him come in my mouth, but I didn’t want the night to be over. I choked back a laugh, my mouth still full of cock. What was I thinking? This was Rock Wolfe. Not some inexperienced teenager. I’d bet he had two or three orgasms in him per night at least.

  Yeah, he was going to come in my mouth.

  I gripped him at his base, adding my hand so that the sensation would be that I was taking him all the way. I increased my rhythm.

  “Slow down, baby.”

  I increased my pace.

  “Now. Don’t want to come yet.”

  Oh, then he was definitely going to come. I continued plunging my mouth over him, my hand adding to the sensation. Once. Twice. One more time… And then—

  “Damn!” He exploded.

  I pulled back so I could feel every spurt, let his essence trickle over my tongue, flow down my throat.

  I sat back, licking my lips and smiling.

  “I think you’re pretty pleased with yourself right about now,” Rock said, his voice breathless.

  I said nothing. Just kept smiling.

  “You stay right there on the floor, baby. I’m going to suck that pussy dry.”

  He spread my legs roughly, and I gasped when he lifted me—yes, he lifted me—off the floor and secured my knees over his shoulders. I was completely bared to him, my pussy hanging around his neck.

  He breathed in audibly. “You smell great, baby. And you look beautiful. All wet and swollen and glistening. I’d like to eat you like this, but I don’t want all the blood to flow into your head. So I’m going to take you into your bedroom, lay you on your bed, and then I’m going to eat that cunt until you can’t take it anymore.”

  He walked gently, more gently than I expected. Seeing everything upside down was disorienting, but soon we were in the bedroom and I was on the bed, flat on my back. He spread my legs and lifted my hips.

  “Beautiful,” he said softly.

  I let out a blissful sigh.

  He gazed down at my pussy for what seemed like an eternity. I watched him, his green eyes burning. He was enjoying this. Enjoying the tease. But the look in his eyes… Was he also enjoying just staring at me?

  “Beautiful,” he said again.

  Yes, apparently he was enjoying it.

  I bit my lip, keeping begging words from tumbling out of my mouth. A few more seconds passed, and finally I could hold out no longer. “Please. Please, eat my pussy.”

  He met my gaze, and I shivered all over. His green eyes were heavy-lidded. Seductive. He knew what he was doing to me, but I was also doing it to him. The thought made me happy.

  Something about him. Why was I so attracted to such a jerk? Yes, he was physically a very appealing specimen, and clearly we had amazing sexual chemistry.

  But I was feeling something more. Something I didn’t want to be feeling.

  Before I could dwell on it too much longer, he clamped his mouth onto my pussy.

  And that was all it took. I soared into a climax. Just from the touch of his lips on my most sensitive tissue.

  He groaned, the vibration spurring me further into climax.

  I bit my lip to keep from crying his name.

  Couldn’t give him that satisfaction. Couldn’t—

  “Yes, Rock! Yes!”

  He moved his mouth away for a second. “Good, baby. That’s good. Come. Come for me.” Then clamped it back down, sucking on my clit.

  I grabbed fistfuls of my comforter and arched my back. The sensation was all too much, all too—

  Two of his thick fingers breached my heat, massaging my G-spot, and I flew again.

  Two orgasms in about two minutes.

  Crazy.

  He continued to groan as he devoured me.

  “I could eat you all night, baby,” he said against my folds. “All fucking night.”

  Fine by me. Though I’d be a puddle of butter by morning. Which also sounded fine.

  He tugged on my labia as he continued to fuck me with his fingers. I closed my eyes, reveling in the intensity, the sensation, the emotion swirling through me.

  Emotion I didn’t want.

  I tumbled into another climax and then another.

  Another.

  Another.

  Until my body sank into the bed.

  “More,” he said. “Give me one more.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Can.” He swirled his tongue over my clit and pressed his finger into a spot so deep that I rocketed skyward once more.

  So intense, so… God, like nothing I’d ever felt before. I sank down this time, sank into the depths of the ocean where nothing existed except the two of us and this orgasm.

  When I finally stopped spasming, I lay limp, whimpering.

  “That was hot, baby,” he said. “Did you know you could squirt?”

  “I… What?”

  “Squirt. A G-spot orgasm. I’ve never been with a woman who could do it.”

  “I… What?”

  He laughed and crawled up next to me. “You’ve never squirted before?”

  “Not that I know of,” I said weakly.

&n
bsp; “I’d love to talk about it some more, but I really need to get my cock inside you.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  He climbed on top of me and thrust into me.

  33

  Rock

  Home. Sweet. Home.

  Damn.

  Damn it all to hell.

  This woman was pure paradise with heaven between her legs.

  She seemed a little dazed. I’d be dazed too after that many orgasms in a row. Women didn’t know how lucky they were.

  The squirting had been a major turn-on. I’d seen it in the occasional porn flick—I honestly didn’t watch a lot of porn—but had never encountered it in real life, despite my pretty impressive track record with the ladies.

  That said, I wouldn’t mind encountering it again and again.

  With the woman beneath me.

  She had a magic pussy. Or so it seemed to me, at least.

  She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip as I thrust into her.

  “Open your eyes, baby. I want you to see me fucking you.”

  “Mmm.” She opened her eyes halfway. “Feels good.”

  “Sure does.”

  Thrust.

  Thrust.

  Thrust.

  I was close. Damn. I’d just come in her mouth, and already I was ready to release inside her sweet heat.

  Thrust.

  Thrust.

  And once more…

  “God! Lacey. God.” I plunged into her balls deep, letting go.

  Letting go.

  A wave of emotion swept over me, nearly bringing a tear to my eye.

  Strange.

  I didn’t cry. Couldn’t remember the last time I had. Certainly never after a fuck.

  I felt so complete, though, still embedded in Lacey’s warmth. So fulfilled. So…

  I pulled out.

  This was way too much “feeling” for me.

  I rolled over onto my back, my arm over my forehead. I lay tense for a moment. Would she want to talk? Of course she would. Women always wanted to talk.

  A few minutes later, though, she let out a soft snore. I smiled. No talking. Good. Hell, if I’d had that many orgasms, I’d be out cold too. I yawned, stretching.

  I should get out of here. Go home. God himself only knew what awaited me at the office tomorrow.

  But I didn’t move. Didn’t want to move.

  And that scared the shit out of me.

  I ended up taking off, but I left a note.

  Damn. I’d never left a woman a note before in my life. But I had already asked her to dinner the next night, so I figured a note was appropriate. I kept it simple.

  Had a great time. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven for dinner.

  Rock

  Perfect. No one could read anything into that, right?

  Back to the hotel for me. My father’s Manhattan penthouse was still a crime scene. Who knew when I’d be able to move in? After grabbing a cab, I took the elevator up to my suite, my soiled shirt in hand. I didn’t actually expect Lacey to have it dry-cleaned. I’d kind of had the wine in the face thing coming.

  Why had I been such a dick?

  I huffed to myself as I inserted the key card to open the door to my suite.

  I knew damned well why, and I didn’t want to even think it. Still, it bubbled to the surface of my mind despite my desire to block it out.

  I was feeling something for this woman. Something I’d never felt. Something I’d been pretty sure I’d never feel in this lifetime.

  And I wasn’t ready for it, especially not now with all these new responsibilities facing me.

  I inhaled. I could still smell her—her coconutty hair, her citrusy fragrance, her musky arousal—as if she’d imprinted on me. Was her scent all over me? Or was it just in my memory?

  Most likely a little of both.

  I needed to watch myself. This woman could have me by the balls so easily, and I couldn’t let that happen. I could cancel dinner tomorrow. I quickly looked at my watch. Correction…tonight. It was after midnight. I should cancel dinner.

  But I didn’t want to.

  I felt like a kid. I’d just left her, and I couldn’t wait to see her again.

  I closed the door behind me and stripped off my suit jacket and trousers. I stuffed them plus my soiled shirt into the laundry bag and left it outside the door. Wearing only my socks and boxer briefs, I yawned, stretching my arms over my head, and made my way into the bedroom.

  “That’s a nice look on a man.”

  I jerked slightly. The voice was female. And familiar. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Who the hell is there? And how’d you get in here?”

  The click of the night table light. I squinted against the onslaught of illumination.

  “It’s me, hon.”

  Raven black hair tumbled over milky shoulders and onto two pert breasts, brown nipples hard and taut.

  “Nieves. What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d come visit.”

  “Put some clothes on, for God’s sake. How’d you get in here?”

  “I told the night manager that I’m your wife. He didn’t question it at all.”

  Interesting. That was one night manager who’d no longer have a job in the morning. I was too tired to deal with it now.

  “Get the hell out of my bed.”

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t you join me?” She pulled the covers back.

  Nothing. Not one stir in my cock, and Nieves was a gorgeous woman. Half Mexican, half Irish, she had the milky white skin and sprays of light freckles from her mother and the raven hair and black eyes of her father.

  We’d had a good time, but I’d bailed when she started to get serious. That was nearly a year ago. Why was she here now?

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the pullout in the living room. We’ll deal with why you’re here in the morning. I’m beat at the moment.”

  “Let me take care of you then, handsome.” She leaned forward, her nipples protruding through the black curtain of her hair. Her shoulder tattoo of a skull and rose drew my focus.

  I’d kissed that spot a thousand times, running my lips over the lines of the work. It was beautiful, and the red of the rose was a shade I’d never seen on another tattoo. It had been my favorite place to kiss her.

  Which should have told me something right there.

  Now? Nothing. Not one budge of my cock.

  Maybe because I’d already had two orgasms.

  Or maybe because I was infatuated with another woman.

  No, I’d been infatuated before. I was feeling something more profound for Lacey.

  Something more…

  I shook my head to clear it. Not going there.

  Right now I had a woman in my bed…and not the one I wanted there.

  “Goodnight, Nieves.” I walked out the door.

  Uncomfortable sofa bed for me tonight.

  34

  Lacey

  Riley Wolfe is missing.

  That was the message waiting for me when I got to the office the next morning.

  The message hadn’t come from Rock or either of his brothers. It had come from my associate who was handling the transfer of the Wolfe family jewelry, most of which had been left to Riley.

  This wasn’t really my problem. Ordinarily, I’d leave it to the family to find their missing member. But Riley Wolfe niggled at me. Something was bothering her. And if she was missing? She wouldn’t show up in Paris for her contract in several days. Fox Mulder—or whatever his name was—had mentioned that she had some issues. Maybe he could shed some light on where she might be.

  I picked up my phone. “Charlie, see if you can find any contact information for Fox Mul—” What was his last name? I sighed. “First name Fox, last name starts with M. He’s a model.”

  “You mean Fox Monroe?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. See if you can find him. He might have information on Riley Wolfe.”

  “Will do.”

>   I checked my calendar and then grabbed my purse. I pulled out the small piece of paper with Rock’s handwriting on it. It had a slightly right slant, and his writing was very masculine. At least that’s how I perceived it.

  Had a great time. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven for dinner.

  Rock

  Why had I kept the note? And why had I put it in my purse and brought it to work with me?

  I sighed, remembering the previous night. Orgasm after orgasm after orgasm, until that last one that had taken me to another planet. Rock said I’d squirted. Damn. Whatever I’d done, it had been amazing.

  Quickly I typed “squirting orgasm” into my search bar. Time to learn a little bit abou—

  My phone buzzed. “Yeah?”

  “I found him,” Charlie said. “Got his cellphone number off his Facebook page, of all things. I can’t believe he made it public.”

  “He’s just starting to get into modeling. He’ll realize his mistake soon enough.” I laughed. “Yeah, get him on the phone, if you can.”

  A minute later, I was talking to Fox Monroe.

  “I’m glad you called, Lacey,” he said.

  I cleared my throat. How did I let him know this was not a pleasure call?

  “It was nice meeting you the other night,” I said.

  “I enjoyed it too.”

  I cleared my throat again. “I have a question for you. I represent the estate of Derek Wolfe, and he left significant assets to Riley Wolfe, his daughter. But we can’t seem to find her. Do you know where she might be?”

  “Well…no. I don’t. I thought you said Riley was a friend of yours.”

  “More like an acquaintance. Have you seen her recently?”

  “I haven’t talked to Riley in the last month or so.”

  “You said she’d had some issues. Is that anything you might feel comfortable discussing with me?”

  “What does this have to do with her father’s estate?” he asked.

  Smart man. I hadn’t given Fox enough credit. “We can’t get the property distributed if she’s not here. If I know what these issues are that she’s struggling with, I might have a better idea of where to find her.”

  “Just some depression and stuff like that. She missed a few shoots earlier this year. That doesn’t bode well. But she’s so fantastic at what she does that the industry cuts her some slack.”