by Lola Finn
But then Briggs grunts and drags my hand around his elbows, leaning in so his lips graze my ear. “No one here is going to give two shits about you being all over me, baby. Trust me.”
Then he kisses my cheek, and I smile as he tugs me toward the grand double doors.
We walk into a ballroom where it looks like a dinner event is being held, but the meal is already over.
“Okay,” I say, glancing around at all the faces, recognizing several as very highly known philanthropists. “Where the hell are we?”
“I told you, I needed to show my face.”
Briggs moves his hand to the small of my back, guiding me around a group. He smiles at someone and they shake his free hand on his way past.
“Brent and Sidney are leaving for New York in the morning to check over a property he has opening up soon. He asked me to pop in and put on a smile for the Cabot name.”
I nod, realizing Millie wasn’t kidding about Briggs being one of Mr. Cabot’s favorites.
“And how does one get in such good graces with Brent Cabot that he sends them to be the face of his empire?” I ask
Briggs swipes two glasses of champagne off a server’s tray as they pass, handing me one before his palm slides over my waist again.
“You get busted breaking into his hotel so you don’t have to sleep on the street,” he says.
My feet stop moving, and Briggs stops, turning back to me.
“Oliver…” My cheeks heat, but he shakes his head.
“Long fucking time ago, Palmer. Best thing to ever happen to me if I’m completely honest.”
I nod, knowing he doesn’t want me to press further. Then he kisses me, slow and hot, and I’m lost in him, forgetting we’re surrounded by people.
“Now let’s talk to some rich assholes, so I can make you come on our way back in the limo.”
He nips at my nose and then drags me along with him, and just like that, the conversation and deep dive into his past is over.
The next hour is a blur as he whisks me from group to group on his arm.
The charity event is raising money for at risk youths, and my heart hurts again, thinking of how that was Briggs. He passes off a check to a woman in one group, tucking me closer to his side as we walk away.
By the time the crowd starts to thin, I’m barely paying attention to all the names he prattles off for me during introductions, the faces all blended together.
That is, until one name seeps into my ears, diving into my brain, and sending my eyes flying to the woman in front of us.
“Palmer Evans,” Briggs purrs. “I’d like you to meet Jessica Niel.” He pauses to smirk down at me. “I believe you’re familiar with her work.”
Oh. My. God.
I blink a few times before Briggs squeezes my hip and jolts me out of my fan-girl stare. “Yes,” I finally manage. “I love you. I mean, your work. Your company. Everything.”
So freaking smooth.
But the beautiful redhead just grins right back at me. “Well, just don’t tell my husband. He might get jealous.”
She winks, and I could faint. My grip tightens on Briggs’s arm, truly needing him to hold me up right now.
“Palmer’s interested in fashion journalism,” he says, slipping my death grip off of him as he glances at someone across the room. “Excuse me just for a second.”
My eyes go wide as I realize he’s leaving me alone with the Jessica Niel of Verse, and he smiles before kissing my forehead.
It only takes a minute talking to her before my brain starts firing, and I’m suddenly talking about anything and everything I’ve absorbed about her brand over the years.
She seems genuinely surprised at how much I know, and even voice memos herself one of my ideas for an article.
By the time Briggs saunters back over to us, she’s tucking her phone back into her clutch.
“You really should apply for the internship this fall, Palmer.”
“Oh, I already have,” I say fast.
“Perfect.”
Jessica smiles at a man, pausing off to the side of us, and I recognize him from her blog as her husband. She reaches back into her clutch and hands me a card. “That’s my assistant’s number. Call on Monday, and she’ll hunt me down so we can discuss it.”
My head swims, my heart pounding. “Absolutely. Thank you so much.”
She wrinkles her nose at me and squeezes my arm on her way by. “Talk soon.”
I nod and glance at the card, still not entirely convinced the last fifteen minutes even happened.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I let out a quiet squeal and bounce a little in my heels.
“Oh my God,” I say, looking up at Briggs. “Oh my fucking God.”
Briggs smirks, pulling me into his arms and against his strong chest. “You must be warming up.” Then he grazes his lip over my ear, pulling me in the direction of the bar. “Because you’ll be screaming that later on tonight.”
***
We’ve only pulled out of the parking lot when Briggs slips his hand up my dress, his lips latching onto my neck. I moan, not even pretending to care when his other hand moves around to the zipper low on my back.
“Is it later?” I tease.
He growls, jerking down my zipper. “Been later in my head for the last half hour. Do you know how many ways I’ve fucked you already?”
I kiss him fiercely while he strips me out of my dress and tosses it onto the floor of the limo. He pulls me into his lap, and I straddle him in just my lace panties and heels, having gone braless because the dress required it, not that he had any complaints about that.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says, kissing down my neck and shoulder as I undo his belt. “I’ve wanted you so bad, all fucking night, Palmer.”
“Just all night,” I ask, breathy and needy.
I barely even know what I said until his lips stop. He pushes his hand into my hair and brings my face to his, so his breath heats my lips.
“Longer,” he purrs, low and deep. “I’ve wanted you every fucking second since I first saw you. Even when I was swearing to myself I couldn’t, I fucking wanted you.”
My eyes search his, something electric passing between us, and I realize I’ve fallen so hard and far for him, there is no coming back anymore.
Our lips collide, our tongues tangling as I kiss him with everything I have. It’s more than an I want you kiss, we both know it.
Briggs groans, his hands running back to grip my ass, and I unbutton his dress pants, drawing down his zipper. My hand slips in the front, and I grip his big, thick cock through his boxers.
“Fuck, Palmer.” He lifts me up, turning us so he can lay me down on the seat, and he shoves his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free and slaps his abs as he kicks them away.
Then he slips my panties down and knocks off my heels as he pushes my knees up to my chest, his eyes taking in every inch of me. They zero in on my dripping wet pussy and blaze before he dives down.
I cry out as Briggs parts my lips with his tongue and thrusts it deep inside me.
“Oh, fuck.” I thread my fingers in his dark hair, my back arching as he slides in and out, and I grind my clit against his face.
I moan his name as he trails his hot mouth up to wrap his lips around my hard little nub, and he slips his fingers inside my tiny pussy, pushing inside deep and fast. One at first, and then two
It takes no time at all for the pressure to build, my body burning up with every lick of his tongue and thrust of his thick fingers.
I moan, and he growls into my pussy, devouring me in every way possible.
I’m his.
Briggs flicks at my clit faster, sucking harder as he crooks his fingers just right, dragging in and out over and over until the world loses depth.
I fucking shatter for him. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me, and my body trembles with every one. It feels like it might last forev
er, too much and not enough.
Briggs keeps licking and sucking, not letting me come down until I’m a breathless mess on the leather seat. He drags his tongue down my slit before he pulls me to him, sitting up so I’m straddling him.
His hands grip my hips, keeping me hovering over the throbbing head of his cock, teasing at my wet, slick entrance.
“Briggs,” I whimper out his name, desperate to have him inside me, stretching me so tight around him.
“You want my cock, beautiful?”
I nod furiously, not being able to think of anything I want more in that moment.
He lets me slowly sink down on his cock, and I moan, feeling every inch of him stretching and spreading me until my ass rests on his big balls.
Briggs thrusts once underneath me, making my eyes roll back as he grinds his thick base against my clit and bottoms out in my pussy.
“Ride, baby,” he rasps. He slides me all the way up his shaft, so just his pulsing head remains inside, and then he drops me all the way down, groaning as I cry out.
“Ride my fat cock until you scream.”
My lips sear to his as I start to move. His big hands grip the globes of my ass and drag me up and down his length.
I bounce on his long, thick cock, faster and faster, screaming out in pleasure every time he thrusts up hard from underneath.
Briggs groans beneath me. “Fuck, you look so hot with that perfect pussy spread for my cock.”
He grabs my phone off the seat and pulls my hand to the screen to unlock it. Then he snaps a few pictures of me riding him and then of our bodies where they connect, and he turns the screen around for me.
“This is what I fucking dream about,” he growls, still pounding into me. “Seeing those little lips stretched so tight around my big, fat cock while it drives into you.”
I moan and crash my mouth onto his again, my phone tumbling out of his hand and onto the seat. He grabs my hips, just slamming me down on his cock, and I see stars.
“Fuck! Oh God, Briggs.” I whimper into his mouth, my body coiled so tight and hurtling toward the release.
“Come for me, beautiful. Come on my cock until your pussy squeezes every last drop of cum from it. Take it, baby.”
He slides his hand between us and presses his thumb to my clit, and it sets me off. I grind into him, my toes curling as I lose myself in the pleasure unfurling from my core, moaning and screaming his name.
“Fuck, baby.” Briggs groans, his arm wrapping around me as he pumps into me from underneath. Harder and deeper as my pussy clamps down, milking his cock until he grunts. Hot cum pulses out of his cock, deep inside of me, and I shudder, feeling it fill me.
I collapse against him, both of us panting and kissing every inch of skin we can reach on each other, coming down from the high.
“So fucking perfect,” he growls in my ear. “You. Are. So. Fucking. Incredible.”
I fall even deeper into him, reaching over for my phone. He smirks when I bring it up, and this time it’s me taking the pictures. Of him. Of us.
“You could start your own gallery with the amount of pictures you have of my cock,” he teases.
I shake my head, pressing my lips to his and taking another shot as he sucks on my tongue.
“For my personal use only,” I say quietly.
“Nah, baby.” He kisses me passionately, slipping the phone from my hand. “For our use.”
I smile against his lips and nod because every word out of his mouth sounds perfect to me.
Chapter Fourteen
Briggs
The day after the charity event, I wake up with Palmer in my arms. The dress that had my cock twitching all night is on my bedroom floor having been stripped off her for a second time.
Everything has been perfect the last few weeks with her. Almost as if the second I stopped fighting it, her, us, the rest fell seamlessly into place.
It all fits.
I’ve never really had that before in my life. One of the pieces of the puzzle was always shoved in where it didn’t belong or all-out missing.
Maybe that’s why I’m uneasy as I leave work that afternoon, part of me is waiting for a piece to fall on the floor.
I kiss Palmer on the forehead at the resort’s front desk on my way through. “See you later?”
She nods, a glint in her eye that makes me very fucking ready for later.
I’m leaving early. Not something that happens often, if ever, but I have a best friend to track down. Cole has a bartending shift at the poolside bar this afternoon. He’s missed the last two weeks at Mo’s, and drinking by myself really makes me feel like a townie. So, since he can’t seem to find time to leave the Cove, my ass will sit at his bar instead.
“Oliver,” Isabelle calls after me as I cross the lobby.
I slow, taking a deep breath before turning around. “I’m actually on my way out for the day. And it’s Briggs.”
She has a tight smile today, an air of irritation surrounding her. “Fine. Briggs. Do you ever plan on finishing our earnings meeting? It’s almost the end of the month, and I haven’t been able to go over my report with you so I can send it down to Brent.”
Shit. As much as I don’t want to, Brent will have my ass if he doesn’t get those reports before next month’s are due.
“Yeah, I have some time tomorrow. Let’s say nine?”
“Perfect.” She starts to turn, but then she rotates back. “Did I see you here last night? In a tux?”
I nod. “I went to a charity event for Brent in Capetown.”
“Oh, well, I hope you guys enjoyed your night then.” Isabelle smiles, backing away. “See you in the morning, Oliver.”
“It’s…” I sigh, not finishing.
Clearly there’s no point.
When I get to the poolside bar, Cole shakes his head, seeing me coming.
“Damn it,” he says. “I told them specifically not to tell the creeps what shift I’m working anymore.”
“Ha.” I slide onto a stool. “This is what happens when you disappear, I’m forced to find you.”
He pours me a beer without even asking and sets the glass on the coaster in front of me. “You and the secretary good?”
“Palmer.” I give him a pointed look, checking around before I answer. “She’s fucking perfect. Best moral dilemma I’ve ever had.”
I smirk, and he laughs before sliding his phone out and checking it. His jaw tightens then, his eyes darting up and then back down.
“Your sister?” I ask.
He shakes his head, slipping the phone back in his pocket. His eyes go over to the pool deck again, so I look over, immediately noticing the petite brunette sprawled out on a lounger.
“Is that…”
“Yep,” he answers, furiously wiping down the bar beside me.
“And she’s—”
“Uh-huh.”
He grabs my beer and takes a drink of it, his eyes still locked on the brunette.
I chuckle dryly, shaking my head. If she’s here, I understand why he’s been standing me up the past two weeks. He’s dealing with a dilemma himself.
“Well,” I tell him. “It looks like you’ll have your hands full the rest of summer.”
My best friend groans. “You have no idea.”
But I do. Because I have my hands full with a sexy, fiery, insatiable little blonde who I’m pretty sure I’m in love with. Nah, fuck the pretty sure. I’m completely in love with Palmer.
Which is why I can’t stop thinking about the puzzle pieces, waiting to see which one it will be that fall.
Chapter Fifteen
Palmer
After Briggs leaves, I have very little to occupy my last hour at the front desk. I lean against the counter, scrolling through the photos in the hidden folder on my phone where I keep everything for Exposed—which now doubles as a Briggs folder as well. With my free time suddenly filled, I haven’t had much of a chance to stage photos
, and my stockpile is really running low.
I get through all the old ones and stop on one of the pictures Briggs took of his fingers slipped under the back of my thong. Sexy, a little forbidden. Very Exposed. But I haven’t posted anything other than shots of me and inanimate objects.
Not that anyone would be able to identify him by a hand. He’s the only one who will recognize it, and he clearly already knows. I sigh, deciding to crop out the hand just in case someone is a super sleuth.
I finish with the picture, and I’m trying to think of the perfect caption when the bell dings at the front desk, facing the hotel side.
“Hello,” the woman calls right after, and I cringe, recognizing her voice.
We’ve been around a few times already today with scratchy towels—which I took out of the room and brought the same ones back in. The second set was much better—and then she couldn’t get the volume on her TV down.
I slide my phone under the counter and start over there just as she dings for a second time.
***
It took half an hour to get the settings right on 407’s air conditioner. She wanted me to stay and double check it actually shut off at seventy-two degrees, but I told her it was against policy to stay in a guest’s room for more than ten minutes at a time.
The second five hits, I gather my things, ready to shower and wash a meh day away. As I grab my bag from the cupboard underneath, I glance around for my phone. Usually I put it in the drawer under the cabinet, but with 407 dinging my damn bell, I remember setting it on the counter.
Fuck, where is it?
While I shuffle around papers, Traci, the night receptionist arrives, smiling at me on her way behind the desk.
“Tell me all our guests are angels and none will make me want to take back up smoking,” she says, opening the cupboard to put her purse underneath.
I glance down at her where she’s crouched. “Want me to stay while you run to the convenience store for a pack? Because room 407 is a delight.”
She groans, straightening up, and then tips her head. “Need help with something?”
“I can’t find my—”
