I was powerless to stop him. I wanted what he was giving so generously. And his head moving between my thighs was an incredible sight to behold. Slowly and methodically, he devoured me. A nice drawn-out tease, followed by the intention to please, was the source of my undoing.
His tongue lapped at my clit, becoming faster and more urgent. Christ, I needed something to hold on to, and the chaise wasn’t doing the job, so I fisted his hair. Shaw must have liked that because he moaned against my hypersensitive flesh and brought his mouth even closer, burying his face in my pussy.
The silky warmth of his tongue mixed with the textured scruff of his face drove me mad, aching for release. And just when I thought it might be mine, Shaw backed off, but not fully away.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he said, kissing the inside of my thigh. “Not yet.”
He used his hand then, the tips of his fingers massaging my clit, slowly and fully, in maddening circles. I heard myself moan, a sound that was more like a pathetic pout. Or had it been a plea? Either way, Shaw found it amusing. His quiet chuckle and subsequent groan of approval made me want to please him even more so I could hear it again.
Long fingers stroked me, and his mouth returned to shower my wanton flesh with delicate kisses. Spreading my folds, Shaw watched as he toyed with my clit some more, blowing his breath across the engorged bud and enjoying the way it made me squirm. I arched my back, trying to draw his mouth closer, but I was again chastised. “Behave,” he warned, and then he slapped at my clit.
However sick it might make me, I liked it. And I wanted him to do it again. So I grabbed his hair and tried to force him closer. “Please?”
I was rewarded with another punishing slap. Only this time, I moaned out loud, giving away my secret pleasure. His exhalation was audible; so was the growl. Shaw was again well pleased. And insatiable.
As his mouth tasted me again, it had nothing to do with my pleasure; rather, it was for his. He licked and sucked at my clit, his tongue exploring every hidden nuance of my folds. For every drop of my juices he tried desperately to claim as his own, my body was more than willing to supply even more.
Something otherworldly was building inside me, expanding until I thought it would burst forth from my body, causing me to spontaneously combust into nothingness. But Shaw wasn’t oblivious to it. Despite his submergence, he read my body and took note of every telltale sign. I was there, just on the cusp. Any microsecond, I was going to …
Shaw pulled back again, thwarting my orgasm.
I growled. Loudly. The sound echoed through the white noise of the city below. And then I grabbed his face, forcing him to my mouth. Jesus, I tasted so good on his lips. Licking and suckling them, I became something I’d never been before. My tongue pushed inside, dominantly taking over and having my fill. Shaw indulged me for only a moment before he pushed away and held my shoulders to the back of the chaise.
“Stop.”
Of course, I ignored him and lunged forward to stroke the bulge in his pants, which I could only barely see by the light of the stars and moon. Oh, my God. He was so big, so hard. My eyes closed, and I bit my lip as I massaged him through his clothes. I wanted him. Inside me. Deep and hard. But I was again denied when Shaw grabbed my hands and pinned my wrists together while wrapping them in his tie, which I hadn’t even seen him remove. Yet that didn’t seem to be satisfactory for him, because he lifted my arms, pushing them back and around the top of the chaise, tightening the restraint until I could feel the pull in my muscles. There would be no escaping until Shaw decided to free me.
“There. That’s much better,” he said. His fingers ghosted over my cheek to my jaw and neck, my collarbones, and then just under the lapel of my robe. “Your skin is so soft.” His voice was a whisper of his touch. And then he yanked the lapels open, revealing my naked breasts fully.
I gasped. Both in surprise and excitement. A cool breeze drifted in from the bay and kissed my nipples, hardening the raised buds to a pucker. Shaw took my body’s reaction as an invitation and covered one with his hot mouth, the other with a kneading squeeze of his hand. I squirmed, trying to find some much needed friction to my pussy, but I was denied even the relief of rubbing my thighs together, because Shaw’s presence there made it impossible.
He sucked my nipple into his mouth, his tongue teasing it even as he pulled back to scrape it with his teeth. Lapping at it again and again before gifting me with the hard pull, he was the master of control. And I had none at all.
My back arched with the same degree of my surprised gasp when Shaw plunged two thick fingers deep inside me. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t expected the move—not that I was complaining in the least. He didn’t even give me the chance to recuperate before his fingering became exact, fast and hard. Thrusting in and out at a maddening pace, he looked right into my eyes. The expression on his face was sure and confident, arrogant. He knew, without a doubt, that he’d hit the mark.
Pushing all the way in to the knuckles, his fingers worked back and forth, manipulating my G-spot. “Do you want to come, Cassidy?”
I couldn’t talk. I could only barely breathe. But my head was surprisingly capable of a nod.
“When?” he asked, pulling out and then pushing back in to toy with the spot again. “Now?”
My hips pushed into his hand as much as he would allow and I closed my eyes, feeling the sensation build from somewhere down low. I moaned, quietly, biting down on my lip and letting my head lull to the side.
Shaw leaned in, his lips at my neck. “Oh, yeah. You’re so close,” he whispered against my skin.
I wanted to feel his skin against mine, but he was still fully dressed—with the exception of his tie, that was. Even still, I’d take the warmth of his body through his clothes if he would just come closer. I arched into him, and he pulled back again. It didn’t matter; I was there. I was going to come. I bore down hard, the muscles in my body clenching in preparation.
And then he stopped again.
My body sagged in defeat. As the torturous sensation once again ebbed, I wanted to cry.
And then he started back at the beginning. Over and over again, Shaw brought me to the brink of release and then denied it, proving that my pleasure was only his to give. I enjoyed every painstaking second of the build and hated every abrupt departure. I tried to hide my tells, but Shaw couldn’t be fooled.
His lips brushed mine, tenderly. An act that contradicted the cocky gleam in his eye. He was enjoying the power he held. And I wasn’t even angry with him because of it. This was what Shaw did. He challenged me, made me want the win more than I’d wanted anything else in my entire life. Whether it was a client, the partnership, or simply an orgasm. He pushed me. And I rallied in response to it.
I was acutely aware that he could choose to torture me all night and into the morning, never giving me release. He could walk away right then, leaving me bound and exposed to the world. He could even whip out his phone and take pictures or record a video with which to blackmail me.
But he wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t because he and I had an understanding of each other. He wouldn’t because he and I both knew that he’d want the chance to do this again.
So when he buried his face between my thighs, I relished the feeling for as long as he would allow it. Spreading myself wide for him, I watched his head move back and forth, and I committed the sight to memory. But no sight was better than the expression in his eyes when he looked up at me and gifted me with the view of his tongue working my plump clit.
And then those magical fingers joined in on the party, working me from the inside while his lips, teeth, and tongue handled the business on the outside. Even though I knew he’d probably only deny me again, I couldn’t ignore the mounting surge in my abdomen. I didn’t even bother to try to hide it from him—his will would win out in the end either way.
I moaned and rolled my hips against his face, meeting the pace of his fingers thrust for thrust. Shaw’s head moved back and forth, up and d
own, missing nothing. And then his teeth bit into the flesh just above my clit, and I gasped, not expecting the pain. But it was a different sort of pain, a sting that was every bit as welcome as the sweep of his tongue over the same place to ease it. He’d marked me. And I was okay with it.
Hardly missing a beat, his attention went back to my clit, the tip of his tongue flicking back and forth, coaxing it to do its part even as his long fingers did the same with that glorious bit inside me. The dual sensations of his mouth and fingers, the sounds of the night, my exposure to anyone who might be watching through the windows of the buildings surrounding us, and the cool breeze from the bay, which battled the rising heat of my body … they were all too much. My head fell back and I looked up at the stars in the sky, silently begging the universe to have mercy.
And then it happened. I closed my eyes, and the orgasm I’d been waiting for took flight like a shooting star. It soared higher and higher, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, until it exploded into a million smaller bodies of light that littered the metaphorical sky.
Shaw gripped my hips, keeping me close to his mouth as he continued to lick and suck and work my pussy. I’d never come so hard. The anticipation had nearly killed me, but when the moment finally came, it was indescribable. The sweet, sweet torture had been worth the reward, and I wanted to thank the man responsible for it—but, of course, I wouldn’t.
Shaw looked up at me, his tongue making a languid sweep of his lips. “Now we’re even.”
I couldn’t talk. I wasn’t able to form coherent words yet, though it appeared there was no need. Shaw stood, loosened the binding at my wrists to reclaim his tie, and then walked away without another word. My arms were sore, but I managed to sit up and turn to see him move through my apartment and out my door.
Pulling my robe closed, I sank back into my chair with an unexpected smile on my face. “Indeed we are,” I said to the night.
For the first time, I started to see Shaw in a different light, and I realized that the things about him that irked me so much were also the things that drew me to him. He was abrasive and cocky, but he was the only person who could exhibit any kind of control over me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Although I knew I should be superpissed at myself, some girly part inside of me got all warm and fuzzy over the idea. Maybe it was then that I realized I wasn’t the typical woman. Romance and niceties didn’t do it for me. I wanted a gentleman with a firm hand who could make me feel like a woman needing to be tamed. It was almost therapeutic to relinquish the carefully orchestrated, obsessive control over every detail in my life. If even for a moment. I supposed I should thank Shaw for that. Sinking even deeper into my postcoital bliss, I knew I wouldn’t.
CHAPTER 13
Shaw
Today was going to be a very good day.
Everything was set and in place: the luxury private jet I’d chartered was primed and running, the weather was clear, the pilot was on board and through all his checks, the attendant was tending to the hors d’oeuvres, and the bar was fully stocked. All that was missing was the guest of honor and the key to my future prosperity, Denver “Rocket Man” Rockford.
Yes, we were going on another adventure together, but this time, we’d both be on our very best behavior. The intended destination this time around was for business, not pleasure. All the key decision makers for Detroit were on standby and waiting for our arrival. I was going to walk Denver through the whole process and show him exactly what I could do for him as his agent. Nothing was going to stop me from bringing home the win; I was more determined than ever to nab it for my own.
Admittedly, I’d been pacing back and forth and checking my watch every few minutes, afraid he wouldn’t show or that he’d cause our takeoff to be delayed. When the car I’d sent for him pulled onto the tarmac, I’d never been more relieved. A quick bolt to the latrine to check myself over in the mirror found everything in place. I was more nervous than a kid going on his first date, mostly because I’d set up this meeting more than two weeks ago, when the announcement that Denver was on the hunt for a new agent first broke. It was a huge risk, but I’d been so confident that I’d have him signed by now. I didn’t. Much to my dismay. Cassidy’s game had been a whole hell of a lot stronger than I’d originally anticipated, and I was lucky that Denver had even agreed to the trip after our last debacle. Otherwise, I wouldn’t just look like an idiot to myself; the whole Detroit football staff would write me off.
But this … this was my big chance, and everything was lining up perfectly.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rockford. Welcome aboard,” the flight attendant said. “I’ll take your luggage, sir.”
With my winning smile in place, I emerged from the bathroom to greet him. “Rocket! Hey, man! You’re just in time.”
But my excitement got caught in my throat in much the same way it would have if someone had grabbed me by the balls and given them a twist. Denver turned to offer his hand and assistance to an uninvited guest. Well, uninvited by me, anyway.
“Look who decided to join us!” he said with way more enthusiasm than I could have mustered.
“Miss me, Matthews?” Cassidy stood there, dressed in a little black number that clung to every curve she had. Some I’d known about, others I hadn’t. Wasn’t sure how that could be possible when I’d seen the woman naked more than once, but the truth was the truth. And her hair was down, cascading over her bare shoulders like liquid fire that wanted to get in on the clinging action. It was safe to say she definitely was not there on business.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled under my breath. Forget how sexy she looked. She was on my goddamn jet, on my dime, with my client. Just raining all over my parade like a monsoon.
But I couldn’t lose my shit in front of Denver.
“Cassidy,” I greeted her with a false smile. “How is it that you came to join us?”
She didn’t have to answer because Denver jumped all over the question before she could. It was quite heroic. “Oh, I asked her, man. Hope that was okay?”
My smile stayed plastered in place, though it was hard to swallow around the lie that coated my tongue. “Absolutely okay. The more the merrier.”
“Mr. Matthews, the captain is ready for takeoff. If you’ll all take your seats and fasten your seat belts, we’ll be on our way.” Our stewardess was quite the looker. I’d handpicked her specifically, not for my benefit but as one more way to make a good impression on Denver.
“Thank you, … Annette,” I said, reading her name tag. If the smile she gave was any indication, I’d say she was flirting with me. Though I supposed she might have just been doing her job. Then again, I was Shaw Matthews.
Someone cleared her throat—no surprise who that might have been—and the exchange came to an abrupt end. Turning my attention and my smile back to my guests, I gestured toward the ivory leather couches that lined either side of the passenger cabin. Denver motioned for Cassidy to go ahead of him, like any gentleman would do, and then he followed, sitting next to her and fastening his own belt. Beads of sweat took up residence on his forehead, and his face was pallid, ghostly.
“You good, man?” I asked as I took my seat across from them. The culprit behind the sudden onset of his discomfort wasn’t anything new to me.
Denver rested his head against the seat. “Yeah. Got it taken care of already.”
Cassidy looked between us, confused. “Got what taken care of?”
“No alcohol this time, okay, buddy?”
He chuckled. “Not to worry. Vegas was a very hard lesson to learn, but learn I did.”
“Is someone going to fill me in?” Cassidy sat forward and pegged Denver with a stare he couldn’t easily avoid.
A nonchalant shrug was the precursor to his explanation. “I have this thing about flying, in that it scares the shit out of me.” He gave a nervous laugh. “So my doc prescribed this sedative that technically shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol.”
“Oh.” The aha moment r
egistered in her eyes first and then dinged through all the checkpoints in her body like a pinball, until she relaxed back into her seat again.
“Yep. So, sorry, but I’ll be knocked out in no time.”
It was my turn to shine again. “Hey, the bed in the private cabin is really comfortable. As soon as the captain says we’re good on the seat belts, you should crash. It’s a four-and-a-half-hour flight, so that’s more than enough time for a nap.”
“Right on. Good looking out, man.”
“Wait. This thing has a bedroom?”
I kept my laugh in check, but it pulled at the corner of my mouth all the same. “Of course it does.”
“That had to cost Striker a pretty penny. How did you get Wade to agree to it?”
I did laugh this time. “Wade didn’t need to agree to it, because Striker isn’t paying for this trip. I am.”
Cassidy’s brows lifted in surprise, then furrowed. She certainly hadn’t expected that twist. And now she knew exactly the lengths to which I was willing to go for the win. Would she meet me tit for tat? I doubted it.
The plane began taxiing down the runway, picking up speed as it went. I held on to my armrests, not saying or thinking about anything more than a safe takeoff. Unlike Denver, I didn’t get freaked out about flying, though I had to admit that takeoffs and landings made me a little nervous.
Denver’s eyes were clamped shut, and he was holding on for dear life, but Cassidy sat unaffected. In that dress. With her legs crossed at the knee and her gorgeous calves on display, like a pinup model posing for a calendar shoot. The four-and-a-half-hour flight was going to seem twice as long if I had to look at her for the duration.
In no time at all, we were off the ground and in the air. Denver was sweating bullets and looked like he might want his mommy. It was almost poetic to see a hulking mountain of a man show such vulnerability. Fear of flying wasn’t his only weakness, though. During our trip to Vegas, he’d also told me about his fears of clowns and miniature dogs. If anyone ever wanted to scare the shit out of the man, all they’d have to do would be to dress a Chihuahua in a clown suit and sit it next to him on a plane. He’d likely never survive the takeoff.