His Rules (One Night Stand Series Book 1)

by Toni J Strawn

  I needed the win. The uneasiness sensation churning my gut had returned, the same feeling that’d dogged me through my formative years. I had to win, to be the best, to overcome each hurdle, one step at a time until I reached the end. Only then could I set my sights on the next goal. The next project.

  Sensing the restlessness of my team, I took a breath and relaxed the firm line of my mouth. My gaze flicked around the table, stopping to rest on Abby for a split second longer than the others. I smiled. This game was all about control. And if standing by her rules was important to Abby, then I would find out how far I could push her to bend them.

  How much would it take her to break?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Abby

  Marcus was everywhere I didn’t want him to be. If his plan was to sexually frustrate me into submission, then damn it all, it was working. To top it off, I now had the key to his upstairs apartment burning a hole the size of Texas in my pocket. It’d been left on my desk when I’d gotten back to my office. Along with a note inviting me to come and stay.

  I dug my fingers into my forehead to alleviate the pressure, putting my current fragile state down to being tired. Another sleepless night tangled in the bed sheets, pretending my hand was Marcus’s, that it was his fingers slipping inside me, rubbing my clitoris, pinching at my nipples. The ache for his touch never lessened, no matter how many times I brought myself to orgasm.

  Sitting across the table from him in the meeting today had made it so much worse—the sensual energy a burn across my skin, heating my blood, making me crave his touch. Because there was no use denying I wanted something with Marcus. It was only the nagging whispers that stopped me, warning me not to relax my guard. I always listened to the whispers.

  That was why I rang Marcus later that night, to tell him I could never have anything other than that one time in Baltimore. To make my position abundantly clear.

  Doing so would be to let something real enter my life and set myself up for hurt. Nicky and Nathan had already stolen everything I had to give. They got to live out the life that should’ve been mine. They were having a baby. Wasn’t that enough?

  My resolve hardened, the tremble in my fingers easing.

  “Marcus Brookhein.” Marcus answered my call.

  At the sound of his voice my tongue glued itself to the top of my mouth. I sank down on the bed.

  “Abby, is that you?” Amusement tinged his words.

  “Yes, it’s me. I’m returning your key tomorrow. The answer is no.”

  “No? There is no no about this, Abby. No ifs. No buts. Only when.” Marcus’s supreme confidence in the outcome ruffled my feathers, just like he knew it would. “And do you know why I’m so sure of myself?” There was a pause as Marcus waited for my answer. I flexed my fingers on the phone but kept my mouth shut. “Because you didn’t really call to tell me about the key—you could’ve given that back at any time. Only you didn’t.” His voice thickened, a low husky tone turning his words into soft strokes that circled the tops of my thighs.

  I shifted on the bed, drawing my legs under me. It pulled the muscles tight around my sex, subtly increasing the throb of need. I couldn’t deny his accusation. We both knew he was right.

  “So why do you think I called?” I managed to choke out.

  Another warm chuckle blew across my ear. “Tell me what you intend to do with me when you come to my bed.” His words lapped at me like a caress. “Tell me what you want.”

  My breath caught and I lay down, my hand pressed between my legs. A moan left my lips as pleasure spread out from my belly, a slow tingling burn which swept over my limbs, weighing them down.

  Marcus’s breath hissed out. “Are you touching yourself?”

  I shifted my hand and allowed my fingers to cup my mound. My nipples tightened and rubbed against my clothing. Caution was torn away. To hell with what came later, I needed the here and now. If I kept playing Marcus’s game his way, I was going to lose. I was already losing. The only thing left was to change the game plan.

  “I want you to touch yourself.” I countered the question with my own demand, a hard spike of desire catching in my throat. “I want you to fist your cock in your hand and stroke it. Nice and slow.”

  “Fuck. Abby.”

  “Shut up and do it.” I gritted my teeth, holding the phone between my cheek and my shoulder as I quickly unbuttoned my top. I plucked at my nipples, conjuring up images of Marcus with his hand gripping his cock. His back would be arched, hips shoved forward, a moan on his lips. Waiting for my next command.

  A low groan filled my ear, followed by short, heavy breaths that told me he was doing everything I asked. Unable to resist any longer, my fingers crept down my belly, under the elastic of my panties, slipping along the crease of my pussy to glide in the wetness. I rubbed at my clit, biting back the cry of pleasure that built in my throat. The first blush of sweat rolled over my body.

  “Do you want to hear me? Do you want to hear what I’m doing to my cock?” Marcus’s voice was ragged and another spear of lust had me widening my legs, driving two fingers deep inside.

  For a moment, I could hear nothing except the rasp of my own breath. Switching the phone’s position, I pressed it against my ear. There it was. The scrape of sound as his fist pumped at his shaft, the soft slap of his balls as they hit his thighs. A rush of creamy moisture coated my fingers and I stifled my moan. Even as I listened, his tempo increased and I could hear the small grunts of pleasure as he did everything I’d asked of him.

  “Can you hear me?” His voice was suddenly loud in my ear.

  “Yeessss.” My answer hissed out.

  “Do you want me to come?” he demanded.

  I screwed my eyes tight, my fingers frantically working my clit as pressure continued to build. “I want you to come,” I gasped out. “I want you to pump your cock. Hard.” The first rise of pleasure took hold like a rabid dog and shook me. My fingers stuttered and I cried out. “Harder!”

  “Ah. Abby. I’m coming!”

  The raw edge to Marcus’s cry took me with him and I let go, shattering into pleasure so exquisite I couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t hear the words now pouring down the phone from Marcus into my ear.

  Shit. Marcus. I swallowed down a hysterical laugh as I disconnected the call and stuffed the phone under my pillow.

  Surprisingly, I slept very well.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Abby

  I tried sneaking past Marcus’s office door unnoticed the next morning, but his head came up, gaze locking on mine.

  “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to see Ms. Harkness for a moment.” He addressed whoever was in the room with him as he got up.

  I snuck a quick look in and stifled a groan. Cole was there, plus the IT guru, his office manager and the accountant. I couldn’t exactly deny Marcus, not in front of his staff. Last night had been hot and sexy and wicked as hell—it’d also been a mistake.

  Of course, Cole noticed there was something going on and his expression changed to one of concern.

  “Can’t it wait until later? We’re nearly done.” He stepped in to rescue me.

  His interference seemed to make Marcus more determined. “No.” He made a show of looking at his watch. “We’re due for a break. You can take ten.”

  Humiliation stung at my cheeks but I smiled stiffly, trying my best to ignore Cole’s sympathetic glance. Marcus caught our exchange and scowled. vibrating with tension as he followed me into the corridor. He shut the door behind us and looked around to make sure no one was watching. With no one in sight, he grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hall.

  “Is there something going on with Cole that I should know about?” He barely waited to get me into the shadows before wheeling on me.

  Cole? I balked. Where the hell had that come from?

  His fingers dug into my arms and I recognized this Marcus as the one who’d barked down the phone when I’d goaded him about attending to personal matters. He was je
alous. The thought brought with it a kick of perverse pleasure.

  It was hot. Damn hot.

  “Nothing that involves you or your business.” I yanked free and crossed my arms.

  “So, that’s what’s going on here? You want Cole?” The heat leeched from Marcus’s eyes, leaving them cold and hard.

  I stared straight back into his flinty gaze. “Is that why you dragged me out here?” I mocked. “To ask about Cole?”

  “After last night, don’t you think I have the right to know?” His words had the desired effect. I could feel my cheeks growing hot as I remembered every detail of our dirty phone call. “So, do you want him?” he asked again. Soft. Dangerous.

  Yes. It should be the easiest word to say. One word and Marcus would stop looking at me like he wanted to drag me to the floor and fuck me within an inch of my life. My heart thudded loudly as I opened my mouth, but that one little word stuck in my throat.

  “No,” I croaked.

  Marcus pushed out a breath. “Thank fuck for that.”

  He gripped my hand and pulled me up the stairs. At the first door he came to, he hustled me in. It was a small formal lounge, filled with richly brocaded couches and a large rosewood coffee table. I stumbled after Marcus, desperately trying to pull my professional mask back in place and wrap myself in the hard shell that’d served me so well. But I couldn’t. My stomach muscles clenched in hot, lustful spasms, my breasts aching, nipples taut with expectation. I had wanted this from the first moment I’d stepped into his trap and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. Or wanted to do.

  Numbly, I stared up at Marcus as he crowded me back against the door. It closed with a click. He kept moving until the only thing between us was a shiver of anticipation. He rested his forehead against mine, his breath an intoxicating promise.

  “I’ll tell you what I think.” Dampness seeped into my panties as his voice folded around me in a lover’s embrace. “I think you want me to touch you, but you don’t want to be touched. In here.”

  Marcus placed his hand over my chest and his fingers dipped down to rest against the swell of my breast. My nipples were impossibly tight, begging to be touched. As if he read my mind, he flicked his thumbs across them. Exquisite. I groaned, my knees going weak. Marcus steadied me as I regained my balance.

  “So, here’s what I propose,” he continued, his eyes bright and fiery.

  I strained forward, impatient for him to touch me again, aching for him to wrap himself around me—over me—in me. I caught at my bottom lip with my teeth.

  “I still want you. All of you.” His words kicked off a flurry of warmth, followed by spikes of panic. There was a real possibility I’d agree to anything right now, just to have him.

  I started struggling, but he nipped at my earlobe. I moaned, the pleasurable pain bringing my attention swiftly back to him.

  “It’s okay, I’m not asking for that now,” he soothed, laying a trail of kisses along my jaw and down the column of my throat. He splayed his fingers wide until his thumb lay just underneath the curve of my breast. I flexed my hands against his shirt. “But until you’re ready to give me what I want, I’m not going to give you what you want either.”

  My gaze flew upward. I had no idea what he meant but it didn’t sound like anything good. I licked dry lips. “So?”

  “So, despite the fact I want to fuck you so bad I can hardly see straight, I’m not going to.”

  That I did hear clearly. “Wh-what?” I tried to pull away, but again, Marcus refused to release me.

  “I’ll do everything else you ask.” He continued to feather his lips across my cheek, nibbling at the corner of my mouth. “Anything you ask. But, until you’re ready to admit that you want me like I want you, that’s all I have to offer.”

  He couldn’t be saying what I thought he was. My head was foggy with desire and nothing made sense. I struggled again and this time he allowed me a whisper of space.

  “You’re saying you want me to love you?” I asked. My heart tripped into double time just saying the word. I shuddered. Not even the promise of sex with Marcus would convince me to do that.

  “No.” Marcus’s tone lightened and his eyes hinted at amusement. I sipped in a breath and tried to relax. Until his next words. “But I’m saying that I could if you give me the chance.”

  I shook my head and pulled out of his embrace. Suffocating. My hand touched my throat, encouraging it to open and let me breathe. This was where I should laugh in his face and walk away. Except I couldn’t.

  He stepped into me again, giving me no time to collect my thoughts. He flicked open the buttons of my shirt and my breasts came into view, arching forward, begging to be petted. He pinched at my nipples. It was all too brief. His hands dropped to glide up the outside of my thighs, lifting my skirt to my hips. My head fell back as Marcus skimmed over my crotch.

  He groaned. “So wet.”

  Two fingers slid under the elastic of my panties and rubbed across my clit. His teeth grazed my nipple. I gave up fighting against the pleasure and reached inside his waistband to curl my fingers around his cock.

  “You want to fuck me?” I ground down on his hand, my words nothing more than panted breaths.

  “Yes.” His hiss of assent was filled with something close to pain.

  I tried to smile but my teeth gritted together as I fought against the pounding fury of lust beating at me. “Then take me,” I goaded, fumbling with his button, pulling down his zipper to release him.

  His cock sprang free, but Marcus froze as a dark shadow flitted over his face and snuffed out the spark of hard desire.

  “If I do, then neither of us will win,” he said carefully. “Because I promise you this, it will be the last thing we do together.” Marcus stared me straight in the eye and I knew he meant every word. “Is that what you want?”

  My hand stilled and an icy sweat prickled across my skin. From our previous time together, I knew one more time would never be enough.

  “Is that what you want?” Marcus rasped out again, beads of moisture gathering on his forehead.

  “Yes. No. I…I can’t think.” My mind was reeling. I slid my hand free of his trousers and took a step back.

  Marcus closed his eyes. Then he opened them again, his gaze even more determined. “Answer me this then. Do you want me?”

  That was an easy yes. There was no point denying it. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Marcus swore roughly, the curse half pain, half satisfaction. He reached for me before I could retreat any further.

  “At least let me finish you,” he almost groaned. “I need to finish you.”

  “No.” I dug my nails into my palms. My clit throbbed so hard it was a drumbeat, but the power of control surged through my body as he stared back at me. Waiting for my answer. This type of game I knew. “If you can’t give me what I want, then I want this. To know you’ll be thinking about me all day.” I leaned forward, getting as close as I could without touching. “To know how much you want to push inside me. Take me. Fill me.”

  Marcus sucked in a breath, following my every movement as I smoothed my skirt and re-buttoned my jacket. I bent over to straighten the straps on my shoes and he moved behind me, the hard ridge of his cock resting against my ass. I wanted nothing more than to shove back my hips and relieve the pressure in my swollen pussy. He rocked into me and I squeezed my eyes shut, every breath sending sharp slivers of need to every erogenous zone. I fought hard to find the strength to move away.

  “Let’s go then,” Marcus said. The lines around his mouth were tight, his eyes gleaming. “But just so you know. We will be finishing this later.”

  I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face.

  “Oh. Yes. This game isn’t nearly over yet.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Marcus

  I couldn’t leave Abby alone for long. It’d been thirty minutes since our meeting upstairs, thirty minutes where at any time she could flip back into robotron mode. I sent a me
eting request and counted down the twenty seconds it took her to reply. Confirmed.

  I watched in amusement as Abby half rose from her desk when I sauntered through the door. She sank back onto the edge of her chair, tensed like a wire spring. I smiled, eager to have some fun. To play.

  And I could do anything shy of fucking her.

  I loved the way her mouth fell open when all I did was utter a polite greeting and stroll across to the bookshelves.

  “Don’t you want to…” Abby started. Then stopped, pressing her lips together to halt the flow of words.

  “Want to what?” I turned and regarded her. “Touch you? Tease you?”

  Her hands disappeared behind her back but not before I saw them curl into fists. She wanted me to do all that and more. And I wanted to, very much so. But, I didn’t make a move toward her. The silence struck louder than words.

  Why was it so important to hear her say it? My insides vibrated with an emotion I couldn’t even begin to understand, this need to have her capitulate to my demands. I clawed back a little of my hard-earned restraint. That wasn’t the way to win Abby. That way lay failure. I fought to keep the teasing quality in my voice and hide the fierce need I had for her to surrender.

  “Yes.” I answered my own question. “But I have work to do first. I’m only here to look for…something.”

  I crouched to get to the lower shelves of the bookcase, knowing my pants would be molded to my ass. Something she liked digging her nails into, if I remembered correctly. After her reaction to me earlier, I’d thought she’d cave in first. But of course, Abby never did what I expected of her.

  That was what made playing so much fun.

  “Perhaps this is what you’re looking for?” She stepped in close and the heat level between us sky rocketed.

  I stretched to my feet, intending to intimidate her. I was so close I could see each individual hair in the escaped curl resting against her chin. She smiled and bent over in front of me. My balls tightened, my cock growing thick and hard at the sight she presented, the lush curve of her peach-shaped ass. Abby took her own sweet time looking over the selection of books on the bottom shelf. I inched closer, my breathing sounding harsh in my ears as I waited for her to edge back and rub against me.