Made in America (14 page)

“You are hungry, aren’t you?”

Her fingers trail around to my backside, hooking into the waist of my trousers and finding their way underneath the band of my boxers.

“You have no idea,” she licks her lips and yanks down, releasing my cock. It springs up hard, smacking against her chin. Raven laughs at the brief, comedic moment and takes me in her hand, leaning back to drink in my girth. “Jesus Christ,” she marvels, “this is like a porno cock. How the hell do you walk around with this thing?”

Her soft hand strokes the length of my long shaft. I’ve been told before I’m big, something I’m quite proud of, but her approval means more than any compliment I’ve ever received.

“Very carefully, especially with you around.”

She looks up at me and winks before dipping her head, allowing her tongue to glide up the underside of my dick. It teases me, flicking delicately over my crown before her lips kiss around it.

“Fuck that feels good,” I moan.

“You ain’t felt nothing yet,” she promises before taking me in her mouth.

I throw my head back and groan at the suction. Placing a hand on the back of Raven’s head, my fingers find their way into her hair, becoming tangled up in her locks. Her mouth is warm and welcoming after the stressful day we’ve had, and the sensation of her lips traveling back and forth as she jerks me into her mouth is the absolute best relief I could’ve asked for.

Only I didn’t ask. This is all on her—and that turns me on even more the longer I think about it.

“Suck it harder,” I command, looking back down. Her lips are stretched wipe open around my girth, struggling to go any further than halfway. Her cheeks hollow out as she does as I ask, applying more force to my throbbing cock. Her eyes bore into mine and she winks. “That’s so fucking hot,” I gasp, keeping a firm grasp on the back of her head, yet allowing her to have complete control.

Raven pops me out of her mouth, a thin line of saliva still attached. She works it around her palm before gliding her hand up and down me, adding to my already drenched shaft. “You’re so fucking big,” she laughs. “Jesus.”

“Does that intimidate you?”

“Kind of,” she jokes. “I can’t imagine this thing ever fitting inside me.”

The mental image of my cock inching its way inside her pussy causes me to tremble, which in turn causes Raven to giggle harder before taking me back between her lips. God, I’d give anything to feel her tight cunt wrapped around me, but this will have to do for now.

Still, the thought of it nearly sends me over the edge, and as she works furiously with her mouth and hand, I can feel the pre-cum begin to ooze out my tip. She eagerly laps at it, licking and swirling her tongue all over my bulbous crown before wrapping her lips once more around me, only this time she works me with both hands. Jerking. Sucking. Stroking.

“Ah fuck,” I groan. “Raven, that’s so good.”

I can’t resist fucking her mouth. I roll my hips forward and backward, moving in unison with her sweet lips. I hold back as much as I can, not wanting to choke her, but at the same time wanting to feel as much as I can of myself inside her.

When her fingers scrape down my thighs and come back up to my balls, they tighten up at the feel of her nails being dragged across them. She gives me a gentle squeeze and I shudder as her mouth continues to work up and down like a vacuum. Her eyes are trained on mine, looking up with anticipation.

“Keep going, baby. I’m going to come.”

She moans her approval, taking me back in her hand to jerk and stroke. The sight, the sound of her cheeks contracting and expanding, it’s all too much to handle. Before I know it, my release floods her mouth but Raven doesn’t miss a drop. She swallows hungrily at me, gulping the barrage of semen down her throat with a gleam in her eye that’s as sexy as it is proud.

“Fuck me,” I grunt. “And I thought I was the animal.”

She giggles around my cock, swallowing the few remaining drops of cum before getting to her feet and wiping at the corners of her mouth. “Not bad,” she smacks her lips with appreciation at my flavor.

“I eat a lot of pineapple,” I grin.

Reaching down, she grips my softening hard-on and presses forward, standing on her tiptoes to give me a kiss. I engulf her mouth, swirling my tongue with hers while gasping panting breaths.

“Come on, stud,” she says. “Let’s go get something to eat. I’m famished.”

Releasing me, she steps away to find her shoes.

I’d fly her to Europe if she asked, because in that moment, I’m putty in her hands.

And she knows it, too.

- 16 -

Raven

“Miss Young? Would you please have a seat inside the vehicle?”

A gruff voice catches my attention the moment I step out of my brownstone. My eyes are immediately drawn to the black, Cadillac SUV parked at the curb, and then to the man standing next to it holding open the rear door. He’s older, somewhere in his fifties for sure, but you wouldn’t know it unless you were really looking at him. Built like a brick shit house, you’d think someone slapped a three-piece suit on a block of concrete at first glance, yet his steel-gray eyes are welcoming the moment he sees me.

“Hello? Who are you?”

“My name is Abel, Miss Young. Mr. Huffman sent me to pick you up this morning.”

I stand studying the man for a moment. His face is aged and cracked, with a distinguished look to it—yet hardened at the same time. With his jaw set, he stands ramrod straight without so much as a slouch to his broad shoulders. There’s a faint scar running from the bottom of his left eye all the way down to his chin. He looks like he’s seen a lot of action…somewhere.

“Oh he did, did he?”

Abel nods. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve been instructed to take you to work from now on.”

I flinch. “Take me to work? But I’ve got two perfectly good feet that can do that.”

“I’m aware, Miss Young, but I have my orders. Please,” his hand, the one not holding the door, extends to the waiting back seat.

I take a peek inside the vehicle. Empty.

“How do I know Grant really sent you, and that you’re not some kidnapper having a go at me. I mean, anybody could just drive on up and say someone else sent them.”

He nods curtly, a faint smile tracing his thin lips as if in approval. He holds open his jacket to reach inside the pocket for his phone, and I catch a slight glimpse of the shoulder holster he’s wearing.

“Bloody hell, are you packing?”

Abel ignores my question, opting instead to text something. Seconds later, the phone rings and he hands it to me.

Taking a careful step forward, I snatch it from him and try not to seem rattled.

“Raven?” Grant says. “Is everything all right? Is Abel there with you?”

I sigh. “Jesus, next time you’re going to have someone with a gun come for me, at least give a girl some warning, would you? Damn near pissed myself.”

“Sorry.”

“And what do I need a ride to work for, anyway? I’ve been taking the tube for this long, seems kind of silly to stop now.”

“I know, but please. It’d just put my mind at ease if I knew where you were. Especially now that…”

His voice trails off and I smile. “Now that what?”

“It’s just, I want you to be safe, that’s all.”

“Aww, Mr. Huffman, I’m flattered.”

“You are?”

“Of course, but I’m still taking the subway.”

I hang up the phone, put it in my purse, and climb in back of the SUV. Before Abel has a chance to close the door, it starts ringing again but I reject the call and place the phone on vibrate.

“Don’t worry,” I tell the older gentleman. “Games are sort of our thing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he winks, and moments later we’re on the road with the radio playing classic rock, as per my request.

Arriving at Grant’s building just before eight, I allow Abel to step out of the Cadillac first to open the door for me. He takes my hand as I ease myself out, and when my feet are planted firmly on concrete, I give a spin and thank him for the ride.

“My pleasure, ma’am,” he says, those gray eyes of his smiling back at me.

“Please, if we’re going to be doing this every morning the least you can do is call me Raven.”

He nods. “My pleasure, Miss Raven.”

“That’s better. Ta.”

Going through security and up the elevator, I’m expecting more hustle and bustle today when I walk in, and I’m not disappointed. It’s a stark contrast to the ghost town I walked in on yesterday. Everyone is back at their stations, working hard, but not too hard to give me little waves and kind smiles.

I wonder if they know?

Getting situated at my desk, I barely have time to tuck my purse away before the phone starts ringing. Snatching it, I say, “Huffman Financial, Mr. Huffman’s office.”

“In my office. Now.”

Click.

I stare at the receiver as a chill snakes down my spine. His tone, it was completely devoid of any emotion. Just…ice cold.

Shit.

Hanging up, I turn and stare at his office, smoothing out my skirt before attempting my way forward. It feels as if I’ve been punched in the stomach, though I can’t say why. Grant’s never given off that fearful vibe. Up until this point I’ve had no reason to be afraid of him, but now? I don’t know what to expect when I walk through that door. Screaming? Swearing?

Is he going to fire me?

Taking as much of a calming breath as I can, I open the door and enter, closing it quietly behind me. Grant’s there, standing at the window with his back to me, silhouetted against the city. His hands are placed firmly on his hips, giving his stature a sense of imposing doom.

“Grant?” I whisper.

He takes a deep breath and turns, looking me straight in the eye. The warm, playful man I’ve come to know has vanished, replaced with someone who looks like they could eat me alive, and not in the good way either. His face is rock solid, betraying nothing, and when he speaks, it’s with that same, deadpan tone he used on the phone.

“Why didn’t you do as I asked?”

I swallow, unsure of his meaning. Seeing the questioning expression on my face, he offers more.

“Why didn’t you let Abel take you to work?” He leans forward for emphasis, resting his palms on the desk blotter. His gaze never leaves mine.

I release a long breath mixed with relieved laughter that escapes my chest on a whim. Clutching my neck, I blink, feeling an overwhelming sense of calm wash over me. “Is that all?” I say.

“You think this is funny, Raven?” he stands upright, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“Yeah,” I reply, stepping toward him with a greater feeling of control. “I do.”

“Why?” he scowls

“Because here’s the thing, Mr. Huffman. I did do as you asked. I got in the car, and your buddy Abel drove me all the way to work, safe and sound. I was just having a go at you.”

His expression drops. Changes from one of hardened anger to looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. This causes me to laugh once more. Harder. Not at him, but at the situation.

“Look at you,” I say, stepping up in front of him and grabbing his lapel.

“Jesus, Raven,” he exhales. “Why did you do that?”

“Cause it’s fun,” I tease. “What I don’t understand is why you’re getting all twisted in knots about it.”

He takes me by the shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. Staring into his eyes, I see something there. Something disconcerting, though hidden. It’s just a flash before Grant replaces it with a content gaze, but I saw it, and like everything else that’s been happening lately I don’t know what to do with it.

“I just need you to be safe,” he whispers, petting my arms. “Will you do that for me? Be safe?”

“Sure,” I nod, my features softening.

He pulls me in, wrapping his arms tight around me and burying his nose in my hair before taking a deep, soothing breath. It isn’t a hug of passion—or even a hug of gratitude. It’s the kind of hug a child might give his teddy in the middle of the night, clutching on to it for security.

“Hey,” I whisper, pulling away to look into his beautiful face. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be safe.”

Grant sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. It falls back into place and he nods, clearing his throat in the process. “Thank you.”

I lean into him, standing on my tippy toes for a kiss. He gladly accepts my lips, and we connect just as sweetly and tenderly as we did that first time on my couch. Breathing into one another, our tongues meet firm and wet, licking and teasing at one another in a confident display of affection that sends my heart fluttering inside my chest. It’s amazing how he can draw such hunger out of me, yet at the same time make me feel like the only girl in the world who matters.

Separating, I slap him on the chest, mustering the business persona I’ve been trying to perfect. “Right then. Time to go to work, Mr. Huffman.”

“I’d rather go to work on you,” he grins, narrowing his ravenous eyes.

“We’ll have to see about that, sir,” I smile. “For now we’ve got McCreedy to finish with and then, who knows.”

Grant nods, clasping his hands together. “Right. Let’s get down to it.”

Though we finished the bulk of the heavy lifting yesterday, the rest of the day is spent pouring over some final numbers, slapping together a presentation, and making sure the T’s are crossed and the O’s have little smiley’s in them. It doesn’t seem as taxing as the day prior, but by the time 7 p.m. rolls around and I stretch, I can feel every aching muscle in my body scream in protest, but my brain is in perfect working order. Something I’m thankful for because being around Grant, I need my wits about me.

“Is that it?” he asks, bonking his head back against the wall from a sitting position while looking at the clutter pouring off his desk. “Are we really done?”

“We did it,” I smile, leaning back and wiggling my toes as I sit across from him.

“I couldn’t have done all this without you, you know that right?”

“I know, and I expect to be well compensated when you land his account.”