by Stacy Gail
He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling under his breath when she shot the window one last leery look before she did so, holding onto his shoulder for balance. He stooped to swipe the last of her clothing aside, pausing just long enough to pocket the pretty wisp of lace.
“Hey—”
“I want something of you with me later when Payne makes all of us jump through his hoops for the media.” He pulled off his own shirt and got out his wallet to raid his restocked supply of condoms. “The power of your panties will be the only thing that’ll keep me sane.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.” Her laughter hit him like a velvet punch to the chest, and he sucked in a careful breath as the sweet ache rolled through him. “The power of my panties? Really?”
“Every time I’m asked a stupid question or I can feel myself getting bored, I’m going to reach into my pocket and touch them, and remember you just like this.” He took her in from head to toe, and gritted his teeth when the throbbing in his dick reached excruciating levels. “I just hope I’ll be sitting down with a table covering me, since I know I’m going to have the worst hard-on around. But at least I won’t be bored.”
“You’re such a guy. And such a man.” With a smile that was both dazzled and dazzling, she reached for a belt loop of his jeans. “A man who’s overdressed.”
“I can fix that.” In seconds he kicked free of his confining clothes, rolled the protection in place and straddled the bench. “All I want to wear is you. Come here.”
A shiver rippled visibly through her, something that excited him so much he almost groaned out loud. Without another word, she did as he asked, letting him position her so that she straddled him, the backs of her thighs on the tops of his, her toes just managing to touch the floor.
He wrestled the urge to enter her swiftly, forcing himself into stillness as he looked up at her face an inch or so above his. “Do have any idea how beautiful you are?” He slid his hands up her thighs before one hand cupped her ass while the other went right to her sex. He felt the heat of her before he slipped his fingers into her folds and found her slick with wet and ready for him. “Jesus, beyond beautiful. The way you get wet for me knocks me right the fuck out, Angel. Did you know that?”
“You’re making…” Her sharp gasp when he hit the money spot interrupted her, and the way her whole body jerked made him so hard he couldn’t even breathe for fear of setting himself off. “You’re making it worse.”
“I’m making it better.” He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her. The word glorious kept echoing in his head, a word he almost never used, but it was fitting when it came to her. Her eyes half-closed as he stroked her, his rhythm achingly slow. She bit her lip and another hitching breath convulsed from her throat as her body tensed.
He’d never heard anything hotter.
“Twist.” Her eyes were dark, drunk with pleasure, and they had trouble focusing on his. “Faster.”
“No.” Forgetting all about time and the world outside that room, his one priority became what he could wring out of her. “You go faster. Ride me. Show me what gets you off, because baby, your pleasure is what gets me off.”
She responded without words by holding onto his shoulders and rocking her hips against his hand. His breath shallowed out as he watched her, her head falling back while her pelvis undulated so fluidly he was halfway convinced her bones had liquefied.
If only he could keep her like this indefinitely, he would a happy, happy man.
And she’d be one hell of a happy woman.
Sweet, agonizing tension curled in his lower abdomen when her eyes drifted closed on a low moan. Her body pumped faster, her movements more urgent and less coordinated so that she brushed her belly against the dark head of his cock. He gripped her ass harder, pulling her closer to him so that her every move rubbed against him. For a suspended moment he simply reveled in the sensation, but the need to be inside her ballooned until it consumed his every thought.
Grabbing her hips he lifted her, then shifted one hand to his cock to guide himself to her threshold. But before he could ease her down, she took matters into her own hands. She plunged herself down on his shaft, impaling herself, and a wave of pure pleasure bit into him so hard he barely heard the strangled growl that escaped him.
So good. So fucking good.
Harsh breaths pushed through the barrier of his teeth as their bodies surged together. She was so tight, gripping him with a slick heat that burned him in the best possible way. Burying his face in her neck, he thrust deeper, timing his movements with the downward roll of her hips. He wanted to be so deep inside her that she would always feel him there. Always feel him fucking her. Always need him to fill her the way he was now.
Oh God, now…
Her cries of shattered completion merged with the mind-blowing convulsions of the depths that gloved his cock, squeezing him until he thought he could actually die of the pleasure. Furiously he pumped into her, his mouth finding a rosy nipple, and as he sucked the addictive taste of her into his mouth, he felt himself slipping into the madness as well. She was so hot, milking him until he thought he’d burst…
Then he did, and it was greater than pleasure, deeper than madness.
It was as he’d said she was.
Perfect.
Chapter Fourteen
“For the first time in a week, I’m actually a kind of curious about what’s happening at the House.”
“Really? It’s taken you this long?” Joey’s pale brows went up as he came out of the sliding patio door carrying a bag of charcoal. With an unexpected afternoon off from work, he was dressed casually in a blue checked button down shirt, dark gray chino shorts, white web belt and pristine white canvas Vans. Novak, in ripped jeans, wash-faded Harley Davidson T-shirt and barefoot, was at the shiny new grill he’d just assembled, while Angel kept him company and tried to help by reading aloud from the manual. But Novak had largely ignored her, telling her in no uncertain terms that no man worth his salt listened to an instruction book, especially when it came to something like putting together a grill. “Maybe you really are done with that place.”
“I don’t know if I am or not,” Angel said honestly, then tried mightily not to grin at how Novak was scowling at two extra nuts, bolts and washers left over from his “fully assembled” grill. “All I know is that it’s been great being away from all that tension. It was almost worth getting a concussion just to get out of there and enjoy life for a bit.”
“Been there, done that, and trust me, the brain cell die-off isn’t worth a repeat performance.” With an air of a man choosing to not worry about pesky little things like details, Novak shrugged at his extra grill pieces and tossed them into the large box they came in. “What’s cool is that you’re getting the itch to go back. That’s a sure sign of healing, Ange.”
“I don’t know if I’ve got the itch to go back, but I sure wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall at House Of Payne this afternoon.”
“Why?” With a patient sigh Joey fished the hardware back out of the box and pocketed them, no doubt readying himself for a future redo of barbecue assembly. “What’s going on this afternoon?”
“Payne’s called a basic, run-of-the-mill press conference to shine a spotlight on the new concierge service that’s starting up on Monday. Only nothing is ever basic or run-of-the-mill when Twist has been summoned to be put on display. He usually sits there like a smoldering volcano, waiting to tell some reporter how stupid their question is.”
“Nice.” Joey snorted, but Novak lifted a shoulder.
“I feel for the guy, because we’re pretty much in the same boat. The press is a necessary evil in my line of work. They get the word out that something’s going on with the team—a big game or whatever—then they do human interest stories to make the players more approachable to the public. All that publicity puts asses in stadium seats, which in turn gets me a paycheck. But I fucking hate those dog-and-pony shows, because you’ve always got some j
umped-up jack-off wanting to be the next ESPN superstar. Inevitably these amateur-hour dickheads ask dumbass questions that have nothing to do with the subject, and everything to do with putting themselves in the spotlight.”
Angel made a soft sound of sympathy. “Wow, that does kind of suck.”
“I like to help Novak out whenever I know he’s going to be involved in some kind of presser.” Joey smiled as he joined her at the patio table, then looked to his partner. “Remember that press conference at the end of the season last year? You had me call you with a ‘family emergency’ that needed your immediate attention.”
“Yeah, well, considering you’d booked a suite at the Omni to celebrate the end of the season and you were waiting for me with a steak dinner, champagne and the hottest list of pay-per-view pornos I’d ever seen, that was a situation that definitely needed my immediate attention.”
She laughed and snagged her phone out of her pocket, then hesitated. “I wonder if Twist needs an excuse to get out of there. He’d owe me big time, of course.”
Novak opened the barbecue’s lid, then backed up half a step when it wobbled alarmingly. “Text him and find out. Hey Joey, you got those screws, right?”
As Joey went over to check out the wobbly grill, Angel propped her heels on the edge of the chair on which she sat, rested the back of her phone on her knees and quickly thumb-typed.
“Hey. Press thing going on still, or is it over?”
For a few minutes she listened to Novak explaining in great detail that there must be something defective in the grill’s manufacturing, and not how it was put together. When Twist didn’t answer after a couple minutes, she grinned to herself and typed some more.
“Guess ur having a fab time answering all those questions like, what made you become a tattooist? Do you tattoo yourself? Boxers or briefs?”
All too well she remembered he liked boxer-briefs, and as she pictured how easily they peeled off, she remembered a pair of her panties was keeping him company. Had he reached in his pocket to touch them yet? Did he have them balled up in his hand right now? Was he getting hard remembering how they’d come into his possession in the first place?
Slick warmth heated her cleft as she thought about him getting hot because of her. With a quick glance at Joey and Novak—who now had the grill on its side—she lowered her head and typed.
“I know what question I would ask you if I was there. I’d ask if you can feel my lacy panties in your pocket.”
She hit send before she thought better of it and didn’t wait for a response. Now that she’d gotten the ball rolling, she was grateful he wasn’t answering. She didn’t want the interruption.
“I have a couple pairs of panties like that. They’re expensive, but I like them. They come perfumed. Have you smelled them yet? You should. I think you’d like it.”
Her grin got wider as a little devil pushed her onward.
“Don’t know if it makes the skin it’s against smell like perfume, tho. You can tell me later. Once you’re down there.”
God, he was going to kill her.
Then again, considering all the hell he’d made her endure just because he’d had the hots for her, this was the least he deserved.
“Never really thought about you down there before. Thinking about it now, tho. And it’s making me wet. Srsly hot. Srsly wet. Damn.”
She wasn’t lying. Maybe she should back off a little.
“What do you like to do? Lick? Circle? Suck? I like all three, FYI. But the sucking makes me scream like I’m being murdered.”
She had to stop, damn it. Need burned through her until it clenched in her lower regions, persistent and achy, and she was biting her lip to keep herself from moaning out loud. She was really getting herself—
STOP.
She stared at the text that appeared, wide-eyed. Oops. Apparently he wasn’t a fan of dirty texting.
Oh, dear.
Maybe she’d offended him. The man had a few quirks when it came to her. Maybe he thought there was something wrong with—
Baby.
The single word appeared, and she stared at it, frozen. What could that one word mean? Was it an endearment? It seemed like it. But he could also be saying he didn’t appreciate receiving non-businesslike texts while he was forced to be in a businesslike setting. Maybe he even thought she was being immature. That was usually how it went with him.
Baby? You’re killing me. You know that, right?
Oh.
Hurting so bad, little girl. Wanna be inside you RIGHT NOW.
“Aww.” She looked up quickly to the guys to see if they had heard her, but they were too engrossed in their battle with the grill. Dropping her head back down, she let her thumbs fly. “Press conference still going on?”
Yeah. Fuck. Then I’m on until midnight.
A wail of denial soared through her, so fierce she was surprised no one else heard it. “Damn.”
Why do you think I wanted you to stop? I’m so hard right now I think I’m gonna die.
“Then I owe you.” She stared at the words before she took the plunge. “You need to tell me what you like so I can pay my debt.”
She saw he was typing for a while. What I like?
She sighed. Apparently she had to draw him a word picture. “Do you like the licking, the circling, the sucking, or a combo plate? I think it’s better when it’s really wet, but you might not. So, to lube or not to lube? That is the question.”
GODDAMN IT ANGEL.
She couldn’t hold back the giggle, then looked up guiltily as Joey glanced her way.
“Everything okay?”
“Mm-hm.” With any luck, her face wasn’t as hot as the rest of her.
Novak also looked over at her, stared hard at her for a minute, then grinned at his partner. “Dirty texting. She’s totally doin’ it, babe.”
“She does look like a naughty girl who just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.” With the beginnings of a grin, Joey advanced on the table. “What are you writing?”
“Nothing. Go away.” When he made a quick grab for the phone she dodged by screeching her chair back on the concrete patio. “Damn it, lube was mentioned, okay?” Then she clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized she’d yelled it out at the top of her lungs.
Novak exploded into gales of laughter so strong he doubled over while Joey pulled back, hands up. “Uh, Angel, tone it down, okay? I think the whole complex heard you.”
“Oh, my God.” With one last glance at the screen, only to find a bunch of gibberish—she’d have to ask Twist what he meant when he texted grdmwla—she closed the texting screen and tucked the phone back into her pocket. “Let’s pretend that didn’t happen.”
“You didn’t text him shit about lube during the press conference, did you?” Novak finally managed in between fits of laughter.
“Yeah. So?”
“Oh, man. That’s cruel.” He pointed at Joey. “Don’t you ever do that. Getting a hard-on while the cameras are rolling is not one of the things I have on my bucket list.”
“Got it.” But Joey still grinned as if the thought had some merit before he looked at Angel. “Is this going on right now? What channel?”
“Actually, it’s supposed to be on all the local news channels later tonight.” Then, when she thought of how many people in the Chicago area would be tuning in, she cast a leery look at the guys. “Oh, no. Just think—Twist’s boner could possibly be seen on every channel in the city. No wonder he was all-caps yelling at me.”
This time, both Novak and Joey busted out laughing.
The absolute silence brought Angel up from the depths of dreamless sleep, and she stirred against the pillows with a sigh. It had been a fun night with Joey and Novak as they finally managed to prop up their new barbecue long enough to grill some steaks that had been swimming in a Worcestershire-garlic marinade for hours. Then they invited her to watch a movie with them but she politely declined, wanting to text Twist in private to explain she was s
orry for her bad timing and lack of foresight. He didn’t respond, which didn’t surprise her, but it did worry her. Grimly she told herself not to borrow trouble until she knew for a fact that she had something to worry about.
Then she saw the news broadcast, and she was certain she did.
As she waited through the other big headlines of the day—a murdered teenage girl in Garfield Park, a potential explosive device at the Wrigley building and a possible trade for a wide receiver for the Chicago Bears—her tension ratcheted up with each passing second. By the time the familiar House Of Payne logo flashed onscreen, she was ready to climb the walls.
Luckily, Payne was the focus of the camera’s attention. She kept her eyes on Twist in the background, and she cringed a little when he fished his phone out to clearly silence the text chime. But he didn’t put it away after doing so, and all things considered, that was probably a mistake on his part. By the time the news piece was over, Twist had turned his back completely on the media, and there was a tension in his shoulders that didn’t bode well at all.
When she’d gone to bed soon after, she hadn’t expected to fall asleep straight away, especially with Twist weighing so heavily on her mind. But she’d been exhausted after such a full day, and now with the silence wrapping cozily around her senses, she was ready to drift off again when several things hit her at once.
It was silent in the room. The familiar ticking of her bedside clock had vanished.
The soft weight of the comforter and sheet had been carefully peeled back, and gentle hands were sliding up her thighs.
