by Naima Simone
Chapter Ten
For the second time in as many days, Ronin stepped out of the elevator onto Bishop Enterprises’ executive floor sweating. Unlike Wednesday, dark hadn’t fallen yet on this Friday afternoon, and he had even more of a clear view of how far he would plummet if a cable snapped and he plunged to his death. Yippee.
Blowing out a breath, he stuck his trembling hands in his coat pockets and strode through the still buzzing office as if one of those gold plates had his name engraved on it. Unlikely, since he wore baggy track pants and a thermal shirt under his coat instead of a three-piece custom suit. And since he’d just come from practice instead of a meeting, but hey. His mother had taught him a long time ago, “Act like you do belong, and dare a motherfucker to say you don’t.” Okay, so he might’ve added the motherfucker. But the gist of the message didn’t change.
“Ronin Palamo?” a voice whispered from his right.
He glanced over at an older woman, who blinked at him from behind a secretary’s desk. Grinning, he saluted her and walked over, taking a few minutes to shake her hand and shoot the shit about football. By the time he continued on his way to Kim’s office, he left Gladys—the executive assistant to the Vice President of Operations, who had three grandkids and was about to retire in six months—with an autograph and a promise of five tickets to the Warriors’ next home game for her, her husband, and the grandkids.
Another lesson his mother had taught him: kindness doesn’t cost a thing.
But as he continued on to Kim’s office, he shored up his resolve for the reason why he was showing up here unannounced in front of God and country—or her business colleagues. He would undoubtedly face her wrath. Still, he faced down three-hundred-plus defensive lines for a living. He could handle one beautiful, five-foot-nine woman swimming in pregnancy hormones.
Probably.
Maybe.
Yeah, he was fucked.
But after two days of radio silence, and with the vivid, 3D images of Wednesday night constantly scrolling through his head like an erotic ticker tape, he didn’t care. She’d shown up on his doorstep ten o’clock at night, gray eyes swimming with shadows, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. She’d fallen asleep on his lap, and afterward, he’d followed her home, making sure she arrived safely. Kim undoubtedly believed she’d exposed a weakness to him, and he knew what her MO would be: freeze him out. Regroup and retreat. Well, he wasn’t allowing it.
In the dark hours, somewhere between jacking off to the vision of her coming apart around his fingers and falling asleep, he’d thought of a compromise that could satisfy her “co-parents only” rule and still gift each of them with multiple, I-just-saw-Jesus orgasms.
A no-strings, we’re-consenting-adults, let’s-have-hot-monkey-sex-while-we-can affair.
Yeah, he got that she didn’t want to be associated with him other than her baby’s father, and one who would show up every so often, visit their child, then leave. She hadn’t said those words exactly, but it was what she expected. And only time would prove to her that he wasn’t either of their fathers.
But one thing they did agree on was no relationships. She didn’t want one—at least not with him—and he had too much on his shoulders: his mother’s health, caring for his sisters, football, and now impending fatherhood. An ill-fated relationship would only tip the precarious plates he was juggling. Not to mention, he wasn’t a masochist.
Still…he’d never intentionally lied to himself, and his desire for Kim hadn’t abated but grown. Every time he laid eyes on her, touched her hair, breathed in her sweet scent… Yeah, he wanted her. Badly. And the other night, kissing her, having her sweet body squeeze the ever lovin’ hell outta his fingers, feeling her drench him… It was worse.
And she might deny it, but Kim wanted him, too. When she lowered that damn guard, she became a passionate woman who truly seemed to enjoy sex. Who was as hungry for it as he was. He’d proven he could give her that pleasure, that safe place to let go in the way she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—in her everyday life. He could satisfy that craving for both of them.
Coming out of a divorce, she’d been clear about her feelings on a relationship. Especially one with a football player. And he definitely had zero interest in one. Plus, her time in Seattle was temporary. He shied away from that thought, not ready to dwell on it. Still, it emphasized that any…thing between them would be as brief as her residence here. If they went into this with their eyes wide open, agreeing that their only permanent relationship would be as co-parents, he didn’t see the problem.
It was a safe option. For both of them. Because uncomplicated, hot sex was safe as long as they acknowledged what they wanted from each other. With a clear understanding and lines drawn. No expectations beyond what they set out.
Now if he could just get her to put aside her disdain for football players long enough to agree.
“Hey, Chelsea,” Ronin greeted the woman seated at the desk outside Kim’s closed office doors with a grin. He recognized her from the wedding expo.
And since her pretty face broke into a wide smile, apparently she’d identified him, too.
“Mr. Palamo,” she said, standing and extending her hand. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You, too.” He shook her hand, discreetly pulling his away when she clasped it a little too long. “I’m here to see Kim. Is she free?”
“Let me check.” Blatant curiosity gleaming in her blue eyes, she tapped on her keyboard, then frowned. “I don’t see an appointment here for you. And she didn’t mention one to me.”
Ronin shook his head, tsking in mock disappointment. “I have a four thirty appointment with her,” he lied. “She forgot to tell you, didn’t she? And here I am to discuss reserving her hotel for my sister’s wedding reception.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh.
“Oh, of course. Yes, it must’ve skipped her mind, but she definitely wouldn’t want to miss the meeting. She’s free, though, so maybe she just didn’t relay it to me.” Smiling, she started to round the desk. “I’ll just go let her know—”
“Don’t bother, Chelsea. I got this.” He waved her back to her seat. “Like you said, she’s expecting me.” Giving her another wide grin, he strode forward, briefly knocked on the door, and then entered, shutting it behind him with a firm click.
Kim, seated behind her ruthlessly clean desk, glanced up, surprise in her wide eyes and parted lips. But as quick as a blink, the astonishment disappeared, replaced by…nothing.
“Ronin,” she stated in her cold-as-a-witch’s-tit voice. If she only knew how that particular tone only made him want to heat her up. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, standing.
“I…” He narrowed his gaze, soaking her in like a sponge left out in the heat of an Arizona summer for weeks.
Fuck.
Whatever he was about to say evaporated off his tongue. All he could do was stare at her. At the classy knot of hair on top of her head that showcased the elegant column of her neck. At the dark blue, sleeveless dress that should’ve been simple, but her badass body turned the clothing sexier than the skimpiest lingerie.
Images and impressions of two nights ago trampled through his mind. Her arms wrapped around his head, keeping his mouth pressed to her gorgeous breasts—breasts that were a little fuller than he remembered. The tiny whimpers and gasps she made as he sucked and lightly grazed her flesh with his teeth. The tight, smooth-as-glass, and strong as fucking Hercules clasp of her pussy around his fingers. The sultry, tangy taste of her that had become an instant addiction with one hit.
He wanted more of it all. Now.
Every thought—the proposal of an affair, facing her irritation—fled his brain. Every thought but one.
Sex on that desk.
Barely pausing to turn the lock on the doorknob, he strode forward, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall to the floor without stopping. Next, he reached behind him, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and tugged it off. It, too, dropped to the floor.
“What—” She gasped, gaping at him, all of that icy reserve gone. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t…” Her protest trailed off, and her eyes widened as he rounded the desk. “Ronin…”
“What am I doing?” he growled, stalking closer. She slowly pivoted to face him, shock darkening her gaze. But he caught flickers of heat, of the same desire that surged and bubbled within him like a seething volcano. Satisfaction rumbled in his chest, rolling out of him. He didn’t stop moving forward until his chest brushed hers, his thighs caged hers in, and his dick found a soft place to land against her body. Planting his fists on either side her hips, he lowered his head until their mouths were only a breath apart. Each puff of air escaping her lips broke on his. “I’m going to put you on this neat desk of yours and get it—and you—messy. Then, I’m going to push this dress up, spread you wide, and eat you until you come long and hard. And after I have you soft and shivering, then I’m going to slowly work myself up in this tight, beautiful body and fuck you until you’re screaming my name. But don’t worry, hala,” he murmured. “I locked the door, and I’ll cover your mouth so no one outside this office will know you’re getting down and dirty with me.”
His cock thumped, in total agreement with this plan.
With an effort that had his fists tightening further, he straightened. “If you don’t want any of that, say so now. Because once I start…” He shook his head. “Walking away from you the other night damn near killed me. Doing it again would elect me for sainthood. And halos don’t go with this outfit.”
Only the heavy rasps of their breath echoed in the room. Lust glittered in those quicksilver eyes, but her body remained tensed, rigid, as if her head warred with her body. He didn’t have that problem. Both his brain and his cock were in full accord on this: they wanted her.
“Ronin,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” Say yes, damn it. Say yes and put me out of my crazy-ass misery.
“I want all of that.”
Thank. Fuck.
With a groan, he took her mouth, immediately losing himself in her taste, the carnal dance of their tongues. Damn, this woman knew how to kiss. How to give as good as she got. The mating of their mouths wasn’t sloppy; it was raw, wild, hungry as hell. Her fingers dove into his hair, clenching it, holding tight, and the tiny pricks on his scalp sent sizzling electrical pulses straight for his cock.
Slanting his head, he dove deeper, harder, needing for her to let even looser and get a little rougher with him. He uncurled his fists and gripped the hem of her dress, dragging the material up her legs. He lifted his head. The only reason he would break off that mind-screw of a kiss would be to catch the reveal of her pretty thighs and the prettier flesh between them.
“Goddamn, hala,” he rumbled.
Black, see-through lace “covered” her. He slipped a finger under the band and rubbed the thin material between his thumb and forefinger. Soft. Just like the sex it sheltered. And all he wanted to do was rip it from her. But even though lust pumped through him, and a floor full of employees worked on the other side of those office doors, he forced himself to slow down, savor this.
Showing a restraint he hadn’t believed himself capable of, he hooked the sides of the panties and drew them down her legs, lightly kicking them aside once they hit the floor. Fuck, her nearly bare folds already glistened with moisture, tempting him to forget his vow to ease the pace and bury his face between her thighs right now. He still remembered her taste on his fingers. And more than his next catch and touchdown, he wanted his mouth on her.
He reached around her, shoving her phone, papers, and a couple of binders to the side. Then, just as he’d promised, he hiked her up onto the desk. Spread her wide.
“So pretty,” he murmured, sliding a finger through her slit.
Her breath hitched, a shiver rippling through her, and he circled the entrance to her pussy. Unable to resist the lure of any part of him being clasped in that tight, hot yet wet embrace, he pushed a finger inside of her. Immediately, her smooth walls clenched and sucked at him, and he groaned. Burrowing his free hand beneath his pants, he gripped his cock, silently ordering himself not to fucking blow right then. Between the sight of his finger disappearing inside her body and the slick, silken feel of her hungry flesh, and his months of celibacy… Oh, hell yeah, he teetered right on the edge of embarrassing himself by coming all over his fist.
Inhaling and reining in the urge to climb on top of that desk, cover her, and pound away in the body that had been tormenting him since he’d walked out of that hotel room door, he withdrew from her, studying the gleaming evidence of her arousal coating his skin. Deliberately, he painted a circle on the inside of her thigh with his damp fingertip. Cupping her knee, he pressed it, opening her more to him. With a groan of pleasure, he went to his knees and put his mouth on that spot he’d decorated with her own cream. The combination of her desire and the flavor of her skin slid over his tongue, and he growled.
Long, feminine fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, and, when he gently bit her toned flesh, sucking it between his teeth, jerking. Hard. And fuck, he loved it.
Without his urging, she spread her legs wider, silently inviting him to take more, have more. He glanced up, and the sensual, erotic picture she made would’ve had him on his knees if he weren’t already there. There was no sign of the reserved, aloof woman who reigned over this office. She’d fallen back on the desk, propped up on one elbow. Her thick, dark lashes shadowed her skin, and slashes of dull red flagged her elegant cheekbones. With her full bottom lip captured by her teeth and her neat little dress shoved up around her waist, she was the epitome of sin and sex.
“I could eat you up,” he murmured against her skin, giving her thigh another long lick. Her muscles contracted under his lips, and her grip tightened on his hair. “Do you want me to, hala?”
“Yes,” she panted.
“Tell me,” he demanded, grazing her with the edge of his teeth. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
“Put your mouth on me,” she said, a hint of command in her voice. “Do what you said. Eat me up.”
And here was the woman from the hotel room. Uninhibited. Sexual. A woman who took and demanded but gave and pleaded just as sweetly. Lust flared brighter, hotter inside him, leaping like the flames of an out-of-control bonfire. His dick throbbed, insisting—goddamn begging—to be inside her. He was on board with that, but first…
First, he had a promise to keep.
One hand on her lower stomach, and the other pinning her thigh down, he dragged his tongue through her folds. The taste of her—oh fuck the taste of her—seemed to snap loose the leash on his already shaky control, and he gorged on her.
He didn’t leave one part of her untouched by him. Her soft cries spurred him on as he released his hold on her leg and spread her sex open. He licked and sucked, losing himself in worshipping each part of her. Over and over, he stroked his tongue over her, pausing at the top to flick and curl around her clit. She writhed against his mouth, both hands clutching his head. For several moments, he let her ride his tongue, her frantic movements jerking and rubbing her flesh against him.
God, she was so damn sexy.
On a hoarse curse, he plunged two fingers deep inside her. A keening wail escaped her, and he surged to his feet, covering her mouth with his palm.
“Shh, hala,” he soothed, continuing to drive in and out of her core. Leaning down, he nipped her jaw and whispered in her ear, “Think you can be quieter for me? We wouldn’t want Chelsea knocking on the door. At least, not before you come a couple of times.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You good?” he asked, peering down into her eyes, so dark and hazy with the pleasure he was giving her.
Her hot, rapid pants bathed his palm, but she nodded. Almost frantically. As if she would agree to anything, do anything as long as he didn’t stop. Only a natural disaster could prevent him from touching her. And even then, he might consider watching her beautiful gaze blank
with orgasm enough reason to be counted a casualty.
Taking her at her word, he eased his hand away, pausing to mold and squeeze her breast. Even through the dress, her nipple beaded, and he rubbed it, pinched it.
“Again,” she rasped. Her hands dropped to her left side and tugged on a zipper. In short order, she had it lowered and the top of her dress shoved down. A bra that matched her underwear decorated her breasts, but he only had seconds to admire the contrast of the dark, sheer material against her caramel skin. With a pop of the front clasp, she freed her flesh. “Now,” she breathed, that same hint of command infiltrating her voice. She cupped herself, both hands supporting and offering herself to him.
Lust beat at him, hard and merciless. It raged in his cock, and he thrust a hand beneath his pants, fisting his cock so hard it bordered on pain. The bite pushed back the thick haze of arousal that had clouded his mind. Gave him back a measure of control. Only then did he release his dick and slide his palm up her torso, not stopping until her flesh filled his hand. Bending over her, he closed his lips around a dark brown nipple, sucking it hard, even as he teased the other tip. His tongue swirled and stroked, getting her good, wet, and hard. Just as her pussy got his fingers good and wet.
He switched to the other breast, keeping up a steady, driving pace in her sex. She bucked and arched, pressing her breast into his mouth and grinding against his fingers. True to her word, though, she muted her cries and whimpers. They remained low and hushed, and he loved those sounds as much as her screams. He’d intended to go slow, to draw this out, but her twisting undulations wouldn’t allow it.
Giving her nipple one last suck, he again dropped to his knees. Damn, she was soaked. Moisture gleamed all over her swollen sex, glistened on her inner thighs. With a growl, he licked it up, off her folds, her clit, her legs, his fingers. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Increasing the pace of his thrusts, he swept his tongue back and forth over her clit, teasing her, building the fire in her that burned like a furnace inside him. Her sex spasmed around his fingers, and he rubbed the smooth patch of skin high inside her, while tugging and suckling the pulsing bit of flesh in his mouth.
