Come On (Coming Together Book 2)

by Poppy Dunne

  “I’ve never had anyone to take care of before,” Rafe whispers, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. My eyes flutter closed as his fingers swirl around my clit, plunge inside my body. “Let me look after you, Tessa.”

  I buck, undulating against his hand as I come. Hot water laps at my shoulders as I pull him into a kiss. He hums his approval against my mouth.

  “You can start by getting naked and joining me.” I nip at his neck, and he growls in pleasure. Now I’m the one who gets to watch Rafe undress, unbuttoning his shirt, discarding his pants—the pants removal is by far my favorite part. The tub easily fits both of us, and I straddle him as he eases himself in behind me. Rafe’s hands circle my waist; his teeth and lips graze my neck. I turn my mouth to his. We kiss deeply, lost in each other. His touch is fire on my skin, and he looks hungry when I disengage from him. I move away, teasing him when he reaches for me before straddling him again. With delicious torture in mind, I inch his rock hard cock a little inside of me, then pull back.

  “Do you want to fuck me in here, Ms. Snowe?” He sounds both amused and erotically on edge. Just where I want him.

  “Yes, but in another way.” As I kiss him, my hand circles his cock and squeezes. Rafe shuts his eyes and groans into my mouth. My hand strokes and strokes him under the water. Breaking our kiss, I whisper, “Let’s see you on your knees, sir.”

  He knows what I’m after, and he gives it to me. Rafe lifts his body from the bath. Water trails in rivulets down his chest, his chiseled abs. Eye level with his throbbing erection, I gaze up at him. He’s watching with burning intensity as I squeeze him again, feeling the hard silk and steel of him. Then, I lick him all the way along his shaft, flicking my tongue directly under the head of his cock.

  “Fuck.” Rafe growls as I take him into my mouth, my tongue swirling over his tip as I ease him deeper and deeper. His body tenses beneath my hands, and he gives a small, strangled cry as I suck him. Hearing Rafe McCarthy start to lose control because of me is an aphrodisiac like no other. I begin to bob my head, my lips tight as they ride up and down his massive length. Heat builds between my thighs as I listen to his breathing grow ragged and raw with need. My hand squeezes him at the base of his cock, and my other hand clasps his thigh. Rafe thrusts slowly inside my mouth; already, I can feel that he’s riding the edge of an orgasm.

  He fills me, and I take him as deep into my throat as I can. Above, he utters my name between gritted teeth. The water laps gently around us as I suck, swirl my tongue, suck again. I stop once or twice to kiss along the length, to lavish special attention on the sensitive, swollen head.

  “Tessa, holy fuck.” His breath comes fast, in shuddering gasps. I peer up at him. His usually composed exterior is shattering. His eyes are half-lidded, his arms trembling on either side of the tub. I’m driving him wild, and I love it.

  His body stiffens as I suck him harder, as I squeeze him and kiss him and take him into my mouth. As I run my tongue along the underside of his cock, he cries out and shudders. Groaning, he comes, and I drink deeply of him. Pulling away, I swallow and look up. Rafe’s chest heaves, his eyes shut tight. He practically sinks against me as I wrap my arms around him.

  “I almost hate that you’re so good at that.” He kisses me. I tilt my head in confusion. “It makes me wonder who else had you, and for how long.”

  My eyebrow lifts. “Mr. McCarthy, that is a possessive and, frankly, outdatedly chauvinistic attitude.”

  “You don’t hate it, though.” He doesn’t make it a question, the smug bastard.

  He’s right, anyway.

  “Well, I’m definitely warm now.” I kiss his chest, lick the trails of water running over his skin. “What should we do?”

  “I was going to suggest a sedate game of cards before catching some reruns on TV, but since we’re both naked.” He tilts my chin back, kisses me. “Might as well check out the bedroom.”

  “But I love sedate games,” I drawl. He knows I’m mocking him, and he punishes me for it. While I giggle, he lifts me out of the bath and dries me off roughly. The fire’s still crackling in the hearth as we exit, as we make our way into the bedroom. The walls are papered a deep red, the bed itself a plush, open invitation.

  Rafe lays me down and gets on top of me. He’s hard already, a fact that he relishes. “It’s like being nineteen years old again, except without the marijuana and the shitty haircut,” he murmurs.

  “So it’s basically perfect?”

  “Yes.”

  When he reaches to get a condom, I grab his wrist. “I’ve never, um, had someone inside me without protection.” For some reason, asking this makes me blush. But I’d like to do something with Rafe I’ve never done with any other man. “I’d like to feel you without it, just for a moment.”

  Rafe obliges. Eyes locked with mine, he teases me with the tip of his cock. I wriggle against him, wanting to put him inside of me, but he prolongs the exquisite torture. Soon, with a quick sigh, he sinks into me, filling me utterly. Even as wet as I am, he’s so enormous that I have to draw a deep breath as he claims me fully. My pussy grips him, wanting him to stay.

  I’ve never been touched this intimately before. With a small moan, I jerk my hips against his.

  “I love that you’re so tight for me,” he whispers, his words practically raking over my skin. He nearly pulls out, then thrusts in even deeper than before. I dig my nails into his shoulders, already on the feverish edge of climaxing. “I love that you’re still experiencing things for the first time with me.”

  He continues the slow, heavenly assault on my senses. His strokes are deep, languid, but also strong. My body rocks beneath him as my eyes flutter closed. His stubble scrapes against my cheek. His cock fills me effortlessly, rubbing me high in the throbbing, perfect spot. Whimpering, my pussy clenches. I want us to be joined as deep as we can.

  Rafe hisses. “Steady. You do that, I may not have time to pull out.” He pins my wrists over my head. Biting my lip, I watch him ride me. My toes curl as my climax builds, as the little bundle of sensitive nerves at my core begins to spark and unravel. Moaning, I arch against Rafe. His rock hard body presses down on mine, pinning me. His cock glides in and out of me, faster and faster.

  “I’m going to come,” I moan, and his mouth closes over mine. He tastes me with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. His cock pounds in and out of me, leaving me raw and glistening and so, so ready.

  “I want to feel every second of it.” He kisses my neck, my breast. He sucks my nipple, then breaks from me with a groan. “Fuck. Tessa, come for me now.”

  As if responding to his order, my body shudders as the orgasm washes over me. I ride it out, watching him go stiff as he feels every undulation, every pulse of my body. No sooner am I basking in the afterglow than he pulls out and flips me over. I’m on my hands and knees as I listen to the rip of foil. Rafe’s cock, now sheathed, pushes at my entrance again.

  “How does this keep getting better?” he growls, sounding mesmerized. With a grunt, he thrusts deep inside of me. I moan, still tender from my orgasm but already hungry for more. Rafe continues gliding in and out of me, the slide of our bodies the only sound apart from our groans. I look over my shoulder, watch his concentration as he angles my hips and plumbs his thrusts. The expression on his face is possessive, domineering, and that look alone starts the slow build of another orgasm. Moaning, I grind back against him, which makes him bark out a curse. “Fuck, don’t stop,” he snarls. He grips my hips, penetrating me as far as he’ll go.

  “Rafe.” I dig my fingers into the bed, and start chanting his name over and over as he fucks me harder, faster, deeper.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He thrusts. “You’re mine.” Again. Yes. Yes, I am, and that thought’s bright in my mind as his cock rubs the right, tender spot deep inside of me. I pitch forward and cry out as another orgasm tears through me, my body shuddering with the impact. From above, I listen to Rafe call my name as he comes. His thrusts are quick and hard, until he finally s
lows. Leaning over, he kisses the nape of my neck, his body sheltering mine. I’m pleasantly sore when he pulls himself out and rolls onto his back. I collapse on top of him, kissing a line up his chest to finally claim his mouth. My leg hitches over his as we both steady our breathing. My entire lower body is jelly by now.

  “I didn’t think I could come harder each time.” I brush a lock of dark hair from his eyes. “You’re spoiling me for anyone else.”

  “That’s the intention.” He grins and kisses me, his hands mapping every inch of my spent and satisfied body. I lay my head on his chest and listen to his heart.

  “The office is going to feel so weird tomorrow,” I say at last.

  “Look, I’m only planning on hanging one banner that reads WE FINALLY FUCKED. That, plus the balloons, shouldn’t make this weird,” he replies. Bastard. I have to kiss him for that. “Besides.” Rafe rests an arm behind his head. “Soon, we’re going to have Scott and Brad out on their asses. No more hiding after that. Your life’s about to get so much better, Tessa.”

  Better than this? I’m not sure that’s possible.

  Fourteen

  Rafe

  Why the hell do people have to wear clothes? More importantly, why does Tessa Snowe have to wear clothes? They’re an inconvenience at best, a nuisance at worst. If she could conduct all my business while naked and lying in bed, that’d be my ultimate dream. Also, she’d have the most unique workstation in the office. It’d be a real conversation starter any time we have client meetings.

  The point is, helping her into her work-inappropriate dress early on Monday morning isn’t my idea of a good time. It’s like opening your favorite gift on Christmas, then having to rewrap it and take it back to the store. Except it’s a gift you’ve already had sex with.

  This metaphor is starting to bother me.

  “I feel like I’m in Mad Men,” Tessa giggles as she slides into her shoes.

  “You want to start day drinking?” I put on my jacket. “I can have a liquor cart set up in my office.”

  “Banging my boss in a swank hotel room is very Joan,” she replies. “That’s so unusual for me. I always felt like more of a Peggy.” I didn’t watch the show. It was one of those hipster white people things I never developed a taste for, like Trilby hats and mason jars and collective guilt. Still, if she’s happy and naked, then I’m happy and naked.

  “Come on. I need to put you in a cab so you can get home and change.” I’m not in the quippiest mood today. As we ride the elevator down to the lobby, I can’t help checking out the faces of the people around me. What am I looking for? Who knows. I’ve had a feeling deep in my gut since that confrontation in Scott’s office. Call it paranoia, or call it common sense, but knowing he has Tessa in his crosshairs puts me on high alert. Maybe last night was a mistake—we shouldn’t push our luck like this. But if three consecutive orgasms on one-thousand thread count sheets is a mistake, then life is irrevocably fucked.

  Still, I pop my collar against the wind and look up and down the city streets when we step outside. Nothing out of the ordinary that I can see, just a parade of honking cars rolling by, and a sea of pedestrians shambling into one another. Tessa giggles, a noise that would get me hard if I weren’t doing my best impression of a third-rate spy movie.

  “You think Scott’s been tailing us?” She sounds incredulous. I can’t get anything past this woman.

  “I think now’s the time to be cautious.” Jesus, we’ve hit a place where I’m the conscientious one. What kind of X-rated topsy-turvy Alice in Wonderland world have I stumbled into? What would a pornographic version of the Mad Hatter look like, while we’re at it? Strike that, I don’t want to know.

  Tessa grips my collar and turns me to face her. Before I can stop it, she stands on her toes and kisses me. The kiss is brief, but not so brief that I don’t momentarily consider picking her up and heading back into the hotel to see if we can have the room again.

  “There.” She releases me, grinning. “No pianos landed on our head. I think we’re safe.”

  “If a giant net falls over us in the next twenty seconds, it’ll be your fault.”

  But the net doesn’t fall, and I get Tessa safely into a car. She waves through the window at me, beaming. She mouths, “See you soon.”

  Even being away from her for an hour is going to drive me wild. I walk down the street, unable to keep from smiling. Unable to stop thinking about Tessa: her mouth, her body, the way she sounds when she comes. Unable to stop wanting to hear that sound again, as soon and as often as possible.

  Fuck. I think work is going to be difficult today.

  “You rang, Mr. McCarthy?” Tessa shuts the door behind her and leans her back against it. Her voice is high and breathy; this is how half my office fantasy pornos about her have begun. She’s wearing a cranberry red, high-collared dress that ends at her knees. I swear she’s picked the sexiest office outfit possible just to torment me. I’ll have to take it out on her later, in the privacy of my own home.

  “Yes, I dropped something under my desk that I need you to retrieve.” I roll back in my chair, and gesture. “Go ahead.”

  Tessa feigns shock. “Sir, is this an attempt to get me to go down on you during office hours?”

  “Actually, I did drop my ergonomic stress relief ball, but while you’re down there—”

  “This is the fifth time in two hours you’ve called me in here.” Tessa cocks an eyebrow. “People might start to talk.”

  “Yes. But will they start to sing?”

  Tessa bites her lower lip to keep from laughing, and that’s enough to make me want to swipe everything off my desk and throw her down on top of it. Thankfully, I’m more civilized than that. Well, not thankfully. Unfortunately. She walks to my desk, swiveling her hips as she goes. I clench my jaw, dig my fingers into the arm of my chair.

  “Are you trying to be provocative, Ms. Snowe?”

  “Is it working?”

  “Too well. You’d better be careful.”

  She leans over my desk, revealing the tiniest dip of her cleavage. That’s right, baby. She reaches out to touch me…and then changes course to grab the ergonomic stress relief ball that’s sitting right beside my computer. Squeezing it once, she offers it to me. “I think you were looking for this?”

  She foiled my scheme. Looks like it’s plan B time: find a supply closet to fuck in.

  “I assume this means a blow job’s off the table.” I take the ball from her, allowing my hand to skim hers. Her finger trails across my palm as she lets go. Even that brief touch is like an electric charge straight to my cock. I swear it’s more pleasant than it sounds.

  “Technically, a blow job’s under the table.”

  “I’ve heard men don’t like clever women.” The poor, sad bastards.

  “It’s true. Auntie May tells me I shall nevah catch a beau with my bluestocking ways.” Tessa flutters her lashes. Goddamn, it seems unfair to be so sexually attracted to a woman and enjoy her company so much at the same time. There’s probably a four-letter word for that potent combination.

  Brad.

  No, not that one, but the slimy bastard stalks past my office window. I do an excellent job of appearing cool by rolling backwards into the wall, and Tessa performs a variation on ‘duck and cover.’ When you want to bang your assistant, it’s important to throw some wacky slapstick comedy into the mix. Keeps things fresh.

  Tessa pats her hair, clearly flustered. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “Don’t say harder. It gives me ideas.”

  She screws up her face at me. Yep, still turned on. Amazing.

  My cell buzzes with a text from John. Fantastic. It reads:

  I can meet you after work. There’s a coffee shop a block down from the courthouse. 5:30.

  What’re you up to, man?

  Johnny boy, just you wait. But as I put down my phone, I hesitate. The feeling that Scott is watching and waiting for me to screw up is ever-present these days. All I need
right now is for him to put John, my zip drive, and me together for all hell to break loose.

  Tessa’s my pressure point, sure. But I don’t think he’s watching her like he’s watching me.

  “Who’s that?” Tessa smirks at the phone. “Svetlana asking you to ‘put baby in her’?”

  “Your accent is startlingly accurate.” I lean back in my chair and run my eyes over the (gorgeous) form of my assistant. “Do you have plans tonight?”

  “My grandfather’s at his weekly daycare, so I’m meeting up with my sister for dinner. Why—”

  “How’d you like to go to Brooklyn and have coffee with another man?”

  Making Tessa Snowe go blank with confusion is one of the things I live for.

  Fifteen

  Tessa

  “You are way too dedicated to your job,” Becca groans as she hauls Gabriel on one hip and a tote bag filled with coloring books, crayons, and juice boxes on her shoulder. We have to hustle and skirt around shoppers in the final throes of the Christmas rush. Gabe hasn’t been making things easier by trying to stop at every Salvation Army Santa Claus we pass and pull his beard. I swear, the kid’s onto us regarding the whole Santa thing. “If my boss asked me to drop something off at dinnertime, I’d fake my own death and come in late the next morning.”