Taking the Score (11 page)

His mouth savaged hers, a velvety roughness she would never have expected. It was a dark, decadent chocolate combined with a dram of whiskey mixed with a rocket fuel boost through her veins. When he tore his mouth away, she moaned at the loss.

“I’m not one for letting my dick run the show,” he grated out.

We shall see.
She curled a finger around the towel fold at his hip and pulled. His hard, naked length pulsed against her belly. He was magnificent.

“Stop thinking so hard, Broderick, and let this beast be in charge for once.” She gripped his cock, gratified when it jerked in her hand, clearly desirous of taking the helm. One long, teasing stroke from base to tip found a bead of precome waiting for her at the end of her journey like a lovely gift. “Tell me it doesn’t feel good to be a little bad. Fucking your fist in that shower is no replacement for the real thing.”

“Emma.” With what had to be monumental effort, he removed her hand and cuffed her wrist with his large palm. An inner battle raged on his face, thoughts doing the rounds until finally settling on—
dammit
—that cool slate. “Neither you nor my dick are in charge here.”

But then he surprised her with his next words.

“I am.”

Chapter Eleven

This woman was driving him crazy. He had no idea who she was or what game she was playing. This could all be part of some long con by Grigson to squeeze more money out of him. She could be in on his plan, but con or not, the truth of this sexually magnetic bond between them was undeniable. His efficient, frumpy assistant had provided him with the worst lap dance ever, and had still managed to be the source of every orgasm since. Beating off three times a day for the last forty-eight hours hadn’t taken the edge off in the slightest.

Only one thing might. Lose himself inside her—but try to keep his wits. Quite the challenge.

She had a dirty, hot mouth on her, and damn she wore it well. This side of Emma made him wild for her and conjured up the beast in him. He’d always tried to be respectful to women, taking his cues from them for how far he could push it during sex, both the filthy talk and the dirty deeds. He’d never come across a woman who was so uninhibited about what she wanted.

He’d never met anyone like Emma.

But she needed to know that there was only one captain here. Not her, not his raging cock, but him. He stood before her naked, sprung, and ready to take charge.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, a slight shake in her voice. Yeah, she should be scared.

“Give me your mouth.”

She gasped. It wasn’t dirty, but it demanded.
He
demanded, and if she didn’t do what he said soon, he’d—

She launched herself at him and kissed him as if she had been burning for him, and they hadn’t just kissed two minutes ago. Her ferocity matched his own, but he kept something back, some measure of control. He wouldn’t let her play him. The days of letting a woman screw him over were long gone.

He cupped her ass and lifted, satisfied when she wrapped her legs around him. The thin cotton of his boxer briefs separated her skin from his. It wouldn’t last long. And neither would he if he didn’t get an iron grip on the unbearable pleasure already rolling like fire through his veins.

He walked to the bed and laid her down, his own body in the embrace of hers. So much heat making him dizzy with want. Making him crazy to sink into her and feel her taking him deep. Wringing every drop from him.

Parting from her a few inches so he could peel off her T-shirt—his tee, he thought with male satisfaction—he also used the moment to get his bearings. He’d already come with mind-blowing force in the shower, her name a shouted prayer on his lips. It wasn’t that he’d have to fake it, but it couldn’t possibly be as good so soon after. That would be his safety net.

He wouldn’t bite her shoulder

He wouldn’t call her name.

He wouldn’t lose every piece of his ever-loving mind in her.

But God, her tits were fucking perfect. At the club, she’d been covered—barely—and this was the first time he’d seen her breasts. Porcelain pale, teardrop-shaped, and fuller on the bottom.

She panted, her body writhing under his, her pretty rosy buds already peaked. He stroked one with the back of his knuckles. It hardened further under his touch, and though it killed him to delay, he waited, watching how her lips opened on a whimper.

“Look at them,” he said. “Begging to be sucked.”

“Yes. Please.”

He lowered his mouth and licked a sweet nipple. Just once, torture for them both.

“More,” she gasped. “Suck them.”

“You’ll get more when I say so.”

She rolled her hips against him, rubbing her body along his erection. He bit back a groan.

“What’s wrong, Brody? Worried you’ll lose control?” Despite the challenge in her words, they emerged shaky, laced with desperation.

He drew the boxers she’d borrowed from him down and spread her legs like a tantalizing buffet.

“Just as I thought. Pretty, pink, and wet.”

Perfect.

She fisted the coverlet and moaned as he continued to stare, watching as she turned rosier and wetter before his eyes, glistening with her increasing pleasure the longer he held out from touching her.

Her hand moved down and he snagged her wrist. “No, that’s my job. Yours is to tell me what you want. Details, Ms. Strickland.”

The name was on the air before he could bite it back. For a nanosecond, he worried that it would remind her of the tricky taboo they were shattering here, but if he was being honest, it was part of the dynamic. His lust was tied up with who she was to him as well as this new, wild, sexy version.

“I want— I want”—she panted, then bit down on her lip—“I want you to tell me what you’ll do to me and then do it.”

Fuck, how did she see right through him and know this? How the chains of his control would be broken as soon as those words fell from his lips. In recasting her demand, she was trying to make him lose that stick up his ass, and his reason with it.

Yet looking up at him with those big blue eyes, trusting her pleasure to him, she was impossible to deny.

“Do you like having your nipples sucked, Emma? Because that’s what I’m going to do first.” He bent close and took one in his mouth. God, he’d never tasted anything like it. How had he gone so long without this taste, with this woman and her perfect, lickable breasts mere feet away from his office?

She arched into him, holding his head to her breast while he sipped of her sweet flesh. In moving so close, she ground the heat between her legs on his hip.

He raised his head. “Trying to get off ahead of schedule?”

A sexy growl emerged from her kiss-swollen lips. “At this rate, I’ll have to do it myself. I need more. Your hands, your tongue, anything!”

“So demanding. But just remember who’s the boss here,” he murmured, kissing his way down her stomach before spreading her wide with his palms on the soft flesh of her thighs. “Should I kiss you here?”

“God, yes.”

“Or maybe run my fingers over that swollen clit? I bet one touch would be all it takes.”

“You’re a sadist, aren’t you? I fucking knew it.”

He chuckled. “I think my tongue would be better. I think I need to taste all that honey.” He planted a kiss on her inner thigh and worked his way up to that treasure between her legs. With one long lick he savored her.

She bucked against his mouth. “Good God!”

He continued to lick, taking his time to explore every part of her. She wriggled, trying to direct his mouth where she needed it most, but he held her in place and teased everywhere else with his tongue. Exasperated, she screamed at him. “There, Brody. Right. There.”

“Can’t get enough of your taste,” he murmured, before he finally gave in to her raging need and his own and sucked her hot little clit into his mouth. She grabbed his hair, holding him fast while she jerked her body against him, taking her pleasure. Hiking his own. He’d always considered himself a generous lover, but no other woman’s gratification had ever meant this much to him. No other woman had ever given him this—both demand and surrender. The scent of her arousal, how it coated his mouth and lips, would stay with him as long as he lived.

As would the scream of his name as she came wildly against his mouth.

…

Brody Kane was pissing her off.

How could he be so calm as she practically fucked his face? She was spread out before him, all wet and pliant, and he was acting like a robot. A sexy robot, but a robot all the same. Nothing affected him. But she’d heard her name on his lips when he came in that shower. She would make him lose control if it killed her.

Still trembling from the force of the orgasm that had amazingly topped all previous ones with this man, she pushed his head away, reached for his T-shirt, and yanked it on. Scooting out from under him, she slid to the floor and started crawling around on all fours.

“What are you doing?” So gravelly.
Yum.

“Looking for your boxers.” She spotted them at the edge of the bed and with a quick flick, shoved them under and continued her quest. Keeping her chin close to the soft shag carpet shot her ass higher in the air.

Another guttural noise sounded behind her. She had to admit an increasing affection for her growly boss.

“Now, where are they, I wonder?”

“Get back here. I’m not finished with you.”

She looked back over her shoulder and almost licked her lips at the sight of him lying there, all coiled-up tension and jutting cock, now covered with a condom. Fast mover, this one. “Oh, but you already finished in the shower. In my experience, a man’s power of recovery is never that good, especially when they’re older. What are you? Thirty? We can try again later when your dick’s had a rest.”

“Emma,” he gritted out. “Get that sweet ass of yours over here now.”

She wiggled said sweet ass. “I’ve already come twice today, boss. Quite satisfied, thanks.” She returned to her search. The feel of his eyes on her, the sensuous weight of his gaze, was making her wet all over again. God, how? Needing him to see how she shone for him, she gave a quick tug at the front of the tee and dragged it over the swell of her ass, exposing the still sensitive flesh he had sucked on moments before. It bloomed under his carnal gaze.

“I wonder where they ended up—”

Two massive hands planted on her hips—somehow he’d used jaguar-like reflexes to cover the distance between them—and dragged her back against his magnificent hardness.

“Does this feel like it needs a rest?” He moved his thick length along the cleft of her ass and down through the slick, hot folds that needed him inside her now.

“I’ve had…harder.”

Another lascivious rub had her biting down hard on her lip. Against the valley of her ass, his cock appeared to be turning even more rigid.

“Feel how much I want you, Emma?”

Reluctantly, she pulled away. He dragged her back, his fingers moving over her dragonflies tattoo. They lingered there, and his murmur of “beautiful” shivered through her. That combination of soft reverent fingertips and hard irreverent cock conjured up a tangle of vulnerability and desire. Confusing as all hell.

“You feel it, baby?”

Wantonly, she swirled against him, rubbing her wetness against that thick cock head, letting him know how much she needed it. Craved it. But still, she sensed him holding back. He was rich, handsome, successful. He could have any woman he wanted, yet he chose to live like a monk in this penthouse fortress. Ascetic, suppressed, Spartan with his desires. He needed to be turned on in a way he hadn’t been before.

He needed to lose his shit with her.

“I—I want… I want you to take it, Brody. Take everything you need.”

On a loud groan, he sank into her, filling her about halfway before stopping. Hell, he was big. So huge, and she had never felt so consumed.

“Need. More.” She squeezed her muscles around his enormous girth, inviting him into her body. Demanding he take what was his.

“Emma, not yet,” he rasped. “I won’t fucking last.”

Oh, I know.
She did it again. Wiggled her ass and sank her fingers into the shag. With her forehead touching the floor, she arched her back, stealing inches of pleasure, each more exciting than the last, as she pushed back onto his cock.

He dug his fingers into her hip bones. “You. Will. Wait.”

“Or what, Brody?” she moaned, the words muffled against the floor. “Worried you might lose it,
baby
?”

She compressed her muscles again, grasping his thick shaft. It pulsed inside her, a raging beast snarling at a cage.

“Fuck, Emma, don’t test me.” He resumed thrusting on his terms, each one a harder slam than the last, each one sucking filthy moans from her. His mastery over her body and his emotions thrilled her and pissed her off equally.

She would strip him bare if it was the last thing she did.

“Harder, Brody. Oh God, please. Take my orgasm. Take what’s yours.”

That plea seemed to spur him on. His hips pistoned into her, the erotic sound of flesh slapping flesh shoving them both higher toward the peak they both needed to reach. Pleasure rippled through her, small waves that gathered to storm strength with each thrust and clench. Her orgasm—her third today—was so close,
right there
,
ah, yes,
take it, baby,
and then she felt a yank on her hair. Oh God, he’d pulled her hair. That sealed the deal and sent her shuddering toward blinding release. Within seconds, he was jerking inside her, his hand cradling her skull. Somehow he retained enough control to orgasm and not rip her hair from its roots.

He slumped over her, his chest to her back, still connected inside her. She luxuriated in a brief moment of peace and satiety, crazy in love with the weight of him on her, all that solidity when her life was as wobbly as a Jell-O mold. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours; this seemed like just another crazy twist to their previously uncomplicated work relationship.

He pulled out of her and drew her tee down so it covered her ass—an affectionate touch that checked her heart. But then so much of what he’d done for her had that affect. He had already been so kind to her, and now she’d goaded him into losing control, into taking a step outside his comfort zone. So much for reinventing herself as respectable. That bad girl was making a spectacular comeback.

“Brody, I—” She broke off, not knowing how to say it. Or even what to say.

“Emma, c’mere,” he murmured as he sat back against the bed and gathered her in his arms. She curled up into his chest and let him hold her while she staved off tears at how shitty everything was except this one perfect thing. Brody was the one person she could trust right now. He seemed to recognize the moment, that her begging for him to lose control was her way of trying to wrest it for herself. She’d used him to feel good, yet he was holding her like she mattered.

“I’m sorry I spoke to you like that,” she whispered against his neck. “Pushed you into something you weren’t comfortable with.”

He smoothed her hair. “You’re sorry for turning me on so much you produced two orgasms from the same hard-on?”

“I did? Is that even possible?”

He laughed softly, such a rare and beautiful sound. She was starting to love it. “I didn’t think so, but dammit I came, stayed as hard as steel, and came again. We’re confounding science.” He tipped her chin up so she faced him. Those gray eyes, silver bursts of light, assessed her. “The question is where do we go from here?”