End of the Innocence (7 page)

“He’s a little intense. Working hard that Rico Suave vibe he’s got going on.” I took a sip of champagne and looked out at the crowd.

“Did it work?” Brad’s voice was low and dangerous, and I turned to see him watching me closely, a hint of a smile playing over his mouth.

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to fuck you,” Brad said matter-of-factly, leaning back in the seat and tipping his glass back, his eyes on mine.

“What? No he doesn’t.”

“I assure you, he does. You didn’t see his face when you walked up. How his eyes drank in every inch of you.”

I shrugged, fighting the shot of pleasure that traveled through me. “Whatever.”

“You don’t understand.” Brad lowered his voice, moving his mouth to my ear, taking a soft bite of my neck, then playing his tongue lightly over the spot. “It isn’t just a desire of his. It is a possibility. One that he recognizes. He is like me, Julia. He goes after what he wants. And he understands that a ring on your finger doesn’t exclude him from the party.”

My mouth dropped, and I leaned back, putting distance between Brad and myself. “You
told
him? About what we’ve done?” I narrowed my eyes and Brad laughed.

“Easy, princess. I haven’t told him anything. But I’ve known Marc for over ten years. We have run in similar circles, have shared women several times, sometimes several women.” I felt a small bit of jealousy at his words, at their past, which didn’t, in any way, include me.

“You’ve ... seen him fuck?”

“Yes.” He took a swig of champagne.

“And?”

“And ... what?” His eyes danced with humor.

I groaned. “Don’t make me spell it out. Is he ... good at what he does?” I leaned closer, giving permission, and felt his hand return, sliding around my waist and pulling me tightly to him.

“He is very good at what he does.”

“Better than you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you should find out.” His hand grew rougher, squeezing my skin possessively, the change catching me off guard, a sharp intake of arousal stealing all breath from my body.

I bit my lower lip, and stared into the flute of champagne, remembering Marc’s lips against my hand, and the intensity of those dark blue eyes. “Well,” I said, swirling the flute gently between my fingers, “then maybe we should head upstairs.” Then I tilted the glass back, letting the bubbles of champagne pop and slide down my throat.

––––––––

A
n hour later, I straddled Brad’s body, and he leaned back into the sectional, his eyes drugged with arousal, watching me, the line of his mouth barely affected by the smile that lay there. He ran his hands freely over the front of my dress, dipping inside my low and loose neckline and cupping each breast in turn. “God, you are beautiful.”

I said nothing, only gently moved against him, feeling a slight vibration run through us as the bass rocked a particularly loud note. I could feel the energy of the club, the muted hum of music, of a thousand bodies of barely-contained madness—dancing, kissing, falling in love—underneath us.

“Kiss me,” he commanded.

I shook my head with a smile. “No. Keep touching me.”

A second hand joined his first, both palms sweeping up and cradling my breasts, the pull of the fabric joined with the rough skin of his palms temptingly perfect. He growled, low in his throat. “Like this?” He squeezed, a little rougher on my nipples, my breath catching.

“Yeah.”

“Then kiss me.” He bucked up with his hips, throwing me forward, his upper body lifting, his mouth looking for mine, but I turned my head, gave him my neck, giggling when he nipped it.

“Not yet,” I whispered. “I’m not going to kiss you until his cock is deep inside of me.”

His hands tightened on me, and he groaned my name as he tore at the straps of my dress, pulling the fabric from me, a shiver running through me as my upper body was exposed.

There was a click of a door handle, and my breath caught as I looked up, seeing the black door swing open, a tall suit of gorgeous stepping inside, a phone at his ear, our eyes catching onto and holding each other.

Click. The door shut behind him, and I froze, aware of my bare skin, Brad’s mouth making a wet path down my neck, his hands pushing me into place, arching my back as he traveled over my cleavage, flipping his tongue gently over and then sucking my nipple into his mouth. I gasp at the sensation, my eyes still stuck on Marc, and watch as he smiles, ending his call and tossing the cell aside, plastic on granite, a sliding sound fading into nothing as I watch him step forward, down the steps, into the sunken living room, his legs carrying him behind the couch, until he stood in front of me and looked down. “You started without me,” he said softly, a bit of accent coating his words. Then Brad did something with his mouth, something on my nipple that made my body squirm, need growing, and I dropped my head back and broke eye contact.

Brad leaned forward, laying me back, his hands replacing his mouth. “Do you want a blindfold?”

“No,” I gasped, opening my eyes and propping my body up, meeting his gaze, my stare flicking to the man standing behind Brad, his hands resting on the couch back, his eyes meeting mine. Dark blue fire. A confident smile. So much like Brad in so many ways. It was strange to have my eyes open, knowing the man I was looking at was about to touch me. To fuck me.

There was a soft slap of fabric as Marc removed his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa, fabric hitting leather, his hands unbuttoning and rolling back his sleeves. I watched his hands, avoiding his eyes, my cheeks warming, bashfulness overtaking me.

“Nervous?” His voice was quiet, a tinge of playfulness in their tone.

I looked up, meeting those dark depths. “A little.”

“Don’t be. I play nicely. Plus,” he said, looking over to Brad with a smile, “I’m scared of the big guy.”

“As you should be,” Brad spoke from underneath me, settled back down on the couch, his eyes on me, his hands running over my skin, over my breasts, rough then soft, perfect patterns that kept my nipples hard and my cunt wet. “She is my everything.” I smiled, looking down on him, his mouth tilting up, asking for, then receiving, a kiss.
Damn
. So much for that game plan. But I couldn’t stay away from his mouth. It fit too perfectly on my own.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the man move. Walked to the bar, fixed a drink, then moved closer. I glanced at him, saw him watching me, his hand moving down for a quick adjustment before he sat next to us on the couch, down a few feet. He reclined back against the leather, taking a slow sip of his drink, the clink of ice cubes registering to my ears. Brad pinched lightly at one of my nipples, drug my attention back to him. I leaned down, gave him a long kiss as his hands roamed me, strong drags of fingers across my skin, possession in every inch, every touch. He lifted up slightly, his hands pushing down my hips as he ground into me, the friction of his arousal causing my eyes to close, a small moan to slip out of me.

“Get on your knees. The ottoman.”

I looked back, understanding Brad’s directive when I saw the big leather ottoman, one that acted as a coffee table. I slid off him, letting him lean forward and drag the furniture piece over until it was flush with the sofa. He spread his legs slightly and pulled out his dress shirt. Unbuckling his pants, he drug down the zipper. “Your mouth. Come here, baby.”

I climbed onto the ottoman, getting on all fours, my hands helping to pull his cock out, everything in the room disappearing as I lowered my mouth to him. I loved to suck his cock. I loved the taste of it. It tasted of need. Of raw, animal want, and never failed to cause a twinge in my stomach, a weight of arousal in my sex. I pushed him down my throat and felt him harden in my mouth.

I was caught off guard when a firm hand closed around my ankle.

––––––––

I
opened my eyes, my mouth full, and met Brad’s eyes. They stared into mine, no hint of a smile, nothing but raw possession in their depths. This is the animal Brad, my favorite side of him, a side I only see in these moments, when he is watching me with another, and every alpha male instinct is on high alert. His mouth moved, curved into a reassuring smile, but his eyes were dark. Aroused. I could feel his level of want in my mouth, hard and ready, his hand settling on the back of my head and pushing down. “Take it all.”

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. But I took as much as I could, feeling, all the while, the slide of Marc’s fingers over my skin, his weight as it settled onto the ottoman behind me. Felt his hands slide up my leg and gently work the ankle strap of my heels, careful fingers working the shoe off. Thud. One hit the floor, my foot released, his hands moving to the other. Thud. Then my feet were bare, free, and his hands were on the move. Sliding up my leg, the doggie-style position giving him a front row view to touch, travel, and then—
gasp
, his tongue caught me off guard—
taste
my skin as he moved up my legs and gripped my ass.

♥♥♥

H
e wasn’t Brad; he couldn’t compare, the condom was an additional irritant, but the man could fuck. Holy hell, could he fuck. And from the glimmer in Brad’s eyes, he loved my reaction. I laid on my side, on the bed, Marc kneeling between my legs, his cock quick and fast, thinner than Brad’s, but hard as a diamond. He played rough, spanking my exposed ass cheek, the first hand laid, ten minutes earlier, light and questioningly, my grin and nod urging him to continue. Now he slapped my skin with aggression, the rough fucks taking me closer and closer to where I needed to be. I looked at Brad, his legs spread, still fully dressed, settled into a chair, his bare cock upright and fisted, his palm slowly stroking its length. Dark playfulness in his eyes.
Why did I ever wear a blindfold?
Jesus, the look in his eyes ... I’d get on my knees and scrub the kitchen floor naked if it would bring on that look. An intense heat, possessive and aroused. I cursed any moment that I missed out on it. Just a glance at it, and I was soaked.

Brad stood, his cock at attention, forcing its way through the hang of his button-up shirt. He stepped over, climbing onto the bed and knelt before me, bringing his dick to my mouth, letting me have a taste of it before he sat back on his heels, stroking with his left hand, slowly and purposefully, just inches from my face.

His right hand played over my breasts, squeezing, teasing, then traveling up to my neck, wrapping a firm hand around it, not enough to choke, but enough that I paid attention, my pussy tightening around Marc’s cock.

“Fuck Brad, she’s gonna make me come.” The man swore out the words, his fingers digging into the meat of my butt, one finger stealing over and putting pressure on the pucker of my ass.

“Don’t stop, she’s close.” Brad leaned down, kissed me, deep and hard, his hand on my neck, my eyes stealing a glimpse of his cock. He lifted off my mouth, his hand tightening slightly. “God, you’re beautiful.” He turned his head to Marc, keeping his eyes on me. “Faster.”

Marc obeyed, giving me more, harder. Exactly. What. I ...

Fuck.

I took a gasp for air, getting one final look before my world went black, and I came on Marc’s cock.

Moments later, I tasted the man’s completion—hot and wet in my mouth. Brad finished the job inside of me. With Marc leaving us alone, Brad’s hard body above mine, one hand in my hair, his kiss on my lips, I wrapped my legs tightly, felt his shudder, and celebrated one more loosening of my sexual strings.

The blindfold. I didn’t need it.

––––––––

I
blinked, the window coming into focus, the coastline through it showing a mess of skyscrapers and beach umbrellas. Close to home. I turned to find Brad’s eyes on me.

“You’re awake.”

I nodded, covering a yawn. Trying to curl my knees into the plane’s seat, I was stopped by the belt. “I’m exhausted.”

He smiled. “We didn’t get much sleep this weekend. Want to hit bed early?”

“I’ll hit my own bed early.” I closed my eyes, leaning over until my head rested on his shoulder.

“Stay at my house tonight,” he whispered against my hair. I shook my head under his mouth. It was an old argument, one I often lost. “Warm bed. Fresh sheets,” he whispered more, furthering his proposition. “Breakfast in the morning. Your clothes pressed and ready.”

“Stop.” I slapped his chest. “Now let me sleep the last few minutes of this flight.”

He growled gently, the sound bringing a smile to my lips, and I settled further into his shoulder.

I won that battle, sleeping that Sunday in my own bed for no other reason than stubbornness. I had to make him wait for something, didn’t want to dive into the wife role without the marriage certificate signed. So I picked certain battles, maintained my separate residence, and the days ticked on.

♥♥♥

“H
ere.” Sheila slapped the form on my desk, her tight mouth turning into something someone in Death Valley might consider a smile. I looked from her face to the paper, the word EVALUATION in large letters across the top.

“Oh. Thank you.” I smiled up at her, unsure if I should be smiling, terrified to see what fun tidbits she added in the ‘Anything else we should know about this intern?’ section.

“Sure. And thank you,” she said, her words laced with a hint of reluctance. “We’ve enjoyed having you here. I’m glad to see that Mr. De Luca hasn’t been too much of a ... distraction.”

I relaxed a bit, smiling in parting when her pale suit turned and left the office. My hands were quick the moment the door shut, breathing a sigh of relief when only blank lines filled the available COMMENTS section. She shouldn’t have anything to complain about. Burge’s schedule was a far cry from Broward’s, our wing had changed gears, adopting normal nine-to-six hours, my attendance perfect despite any attempts by Brad to whisk me off. Burge also enjoyed long lunches, a perk that gave the entire staff the ability to lunch off property, and he’d brought me to court with him a number of times, a development that had me enjoying my job infinitely more. Slowly, the staff seemed to accept me again, forgiving me for the rebellious act of accepting Brad’s proposal.