Devil in a Suit (Cocky Suits Book 1)

by Alex Wolf

  I watch her heartbeat speed up on her neck. She’s aroused. I can practically smell her wet pussy under that skirt.

  “You have to earn my respect.”

  “It goes both ways. So if you want to talk shop, sit down and we can discuss this without you jumping to conclusions and acting like an asshole in here.”

  She doesn’t admit to doing any of that, but slowly takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk. She waves me forward with a flippant hand and crosses her legs. “Proceed, counselor.”

  I tell her about Pike’s plan. I shouldn’t, but I’m at the point where I don’t even give a fuck if I do something to get me disbarred. I have enough money to last ten lifetimes and I’m sick of all this shit.

  “You remember Maxwell? He’s got a PI investigating Carol. If we somehow prove she cheated first, then the clause about kids won’t matter. Right now, the best thing for Misty to do is lay low. Pike will make sure she is cared for.” I lock eyes with her. “Is this why you ghosted on me?”

  She looks away as I lower the blinds to my office. “Yes.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think you’re too close to this and you need to take a deep breath. Misty and Pike are adults. They can figure their own shit out. They made their bed and now they need to lie in it. And I have to do what my client wants. So do you. Remember?”

  “He’s a piece of shit. How do you work for a man like that?”

  “It’s business. My job. I feel bad for the kid. I really do. But you can grow up worse ways than having a billionaire for a parent.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? Rationalize this huge office building and a penthouse? It’s my job too, but I don’t represent assholes like that. We’re allowed to turn down cases. You learned that at—” She stares off at my wall, and then down at the ground and mumbles, “umm, Princeton. Right?”

  “Yeah, you don’t own a firm. I have other people to consider besides myself. And it doesn’t change the fact that you’re emotional. Misty is your friend. You’re mad at the situation. Not at me. Be mad at Pike. He could throw everything away and run off with your friend if he wanted. They’re grownups.”

  “He made his choice.”

  “Yeah, I had no say in it. You think I want your friend to hurt?”

  She shakes her head, staring off at the wall.

  “Still not a believer of fate?” I crouch in front of her and run my fingers up her thigh.

  She tenses under my tender touch.

  “I believe in choices and consequences. You know that.”

  “Then why does the world keep shoving us together every chance it gets?” I kiss her hand. “I think we could have something if you’d give us a chance.”

  “I should go.” She tries to push me away, but I don’t budge.

  She’s too worked up. I need to help her out with that. Show her what a true humanitarian I really am. I need to remind her how good we can be together.

  Pressing my lips to hers, I lick the seam of her mouth, begging for entrance.

  “We both know what you want right now.” I press my cock up against her.

  Finally, she kisses me back. Her tongue sweeps across mine. She tastes like—home. I could kiss her forever and never want to let her go.

  I back her up to the window, not giving her a chance to break away from me, and I lower the blinds. One by one, I walk her around the room, until it’s just us and the door is locked.

  My hands move to her blouse. It’s in the way and it shouldn’t be. I grab her firm tits, growling when her bra is in the way. I yank it down to her stomach, and take both nipples between my fingers and squeeze, hard.

  “Holy shit.” She pants like she just ran a marathon. “Weston.” She breathes out my name. “We’re in your office.”

  “No one can see us.” I flip her around and bend her over my desk. “You know better than to come into my work.” I pull my tie off with a swipe of my hand and tie her hands up behind her back with it. “Disrespect me.” I yank her skirt up over her ass.

  My cock grows harder, thinking about how sweet my handprints will look on it.

  “Turning me on. Teasing me. Being a naughty little bitch, backtalking me.”

  “Oh my God.” Her cheek rests flat on my desk, and I walk around to her side.

  My cock juts out in my pants, and she licks her lips at the sight of it inches from her face.

  “You want to suck that dick right now, don’t you?”

  She shakes her head in defiance.

  “I know what you want, Brooke. I know you. And you’re going to sit there, while I turn this ass pink.”

  “Jesus.” Her breaths are still labored while she stares right at my dick.

  “If you behave. Maybe I’ll put it in your mouth.”

  “You’re such an arrogant prick. You think everyone wants you.”

  Fuck, I want to give her a gold medal for turning me on. So fucking sassy.

  I lean down to her ear and snake my hand up the back of her thigh, all the way to her ass. “Now, tell me the truth. You want me to fuck you right now, don’t you?”

  She shakes her head, but with a hint of a smile on her face. “No.”

  I shift over behind her and go to my knees, then exhale all the way up the back of her legs. When I reach her pussy, I grip her thighs in my palms and spread her out with my thumbs. Then I sniff the air right next to her hot little cunt. “The court determines that’s a lie.”

  “Holy shit.”

  I shift her panties to the side and stand up straight. Fuck getting my cock sucked, this needy cunt is like a magnet, pulling me toward it. I unzip and don’t even bother pulling my pants down.

  I smack one of my palms down on her bare ass and the sound echoes through my office.

  Brooke jolts for a second, her whole body stiff, then relaxes into it and lets out a sigh of approval.

  “That’s for calling me a heartless asshole.”

  “I didn’t—”

  Crack!

  “That’s for backtalking me just now.” I smile at my handprint on her ass, and then groan at how bad it makes my cock ache.

  “Is that all you’ve got, Mr. Hunter?”

  I shake my head and trace the outline of her pussy with the head of my dick.

  She squirms a little, then tries to push her ass back onto it.

  Crack!

  “What was that one for, sir?”

  “Because I wanted to.” I slam into her from behind, and I have to imagine it’s what shooting up heroin or morphine feels like.

  Instantaneous euphoria rushing through my veins.

  When she squeezes around me I forget where I’m at and what I’m doing for a moment. All I can do is stand there and grunt.

  “Fuck me hard.”

  I ball her hair into my fist, and her back arches, giving me deeper access. “You want it rough? Want me to take my day out on you?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  I start a steady pace, pumping into her from behind while light moans roll off her tongue.

  “That can be arranged.”

  “Arrange it then, pussy.”

  I smack her ass again, and ignore her little attempt at insulting me. “Fuck, I missed this sweet cunt.”

  “Is that all you missed?”

  My hand slides from her hair to her shoulder, and I grip her around her collar bone. “No.”

  She bucks her hips back into me, taking it just as hard as I give it.

  I need to come inside her. I need to mark her. Own her. Show her she’s mine, and nothing will ever change that.

  I’ve met my match.

  She’s my one.

  Before long, I’m hammering into her so fast and hard I’m sure the entire office has heard what’s going on. I don’t give one fuck. I’m in love with her, and I don’t give a shit. She clamps down on me with her second orgasm in as much as ten minutes, and I blow my hot load all inside her pussy, like I
always do. I have every time I’ve been with her, and I don’t plan to stop.

  I want it all. I don’t want anything between us.

  She’s real. The most real thing in my world, and I’m not giving that up for anyone or anything.

  After I collapse into her back and push some sweaty strands of hair from her face, she turns to me.

  “We’re out of control.”

  I smile. “Yeah, we definitely are. But that’s how I like us.”

  She glances away and blushes. “What are we going to do about Misty and Pike? I can’t have her on my couch forever.”

  “Let her have your bed. You can sleep in mine.” I smirk.

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit fast?”

  “We practically live together at the hotel anyway. Now, we’ll be in my bed where we belong. I don’t know what we’re doing. I’m not making any promises. I just know this thing with us—it feels right.”

  “I don’t want any promises. But okay. If you’re willing to try, so am I.”

  “That’s all I want.”

  I kiss her forehead and untie her, then pull her into a hug.

  When we walk out of my office the whole damn floor erupts in applause. My brother is the damn ring leader.

  I grin and shake my head at him.

  Motherfucker.

  Brooke blushes but I tilt her chin up and kiss her again in front of everyone. They all need to get used to it, because she’s not going anywhere.

  Five months later

  Weston

  You sure everything’s okay?”

  Brooke’s on the other end of the phone. “We’re fine. Misty doesn’t want you to tell Pike. It’s a false alarm.”

  “You sure? It’s his baby.”

  “Stop looking for excuses to bail on the bachelor party. Go have fun. I trust you. It’s him I worry about.”

  “Yeah, I’ll keep his ass in line.”

  “You better or I’ll fuck you up.”

  “Sounds kinky. Tell me more about how you want to fuck me.” I chuckle into the phone.

  “I’ll see you when you get in. Have fun.”

  “I love you, fiancée.”

  “Stop saying that. You sound like a dork.”

  “I don’t give a fuck how I sound, to anyone.” I can practically feel her smiling on the other end of the call.

  “I know you don’t. And it’s why I love you too.”

  I end the call and get back to the party. Misty was having false labor pains.

  When I first met Brooke, if someone told me that I was going to propose to her within three months, I would have laughed in their face. I may have actually died from laughter. Straight up dead.

  Now, though—fucking fate.

  I glare over at Pike’s ridiculous ass. He’s keeping his hands to himself. I don’t know if it’s because he’s being good, or if he knows I’ll break his face if he brings more trouble into my house.

  I’d do anything in the world to make Brooke happy. Anything. Including sharing a bachelor party with fucking Pike.

  Carol gave him the divorce and settled for a percentage of his holdings, the shares that originally belonged to her father. I’d say it was a fair trade. He gets to be with Misty and they’ll raise their son together. I’d call that a win.

  Now, if only I could get my brother in line. When I return to the living room of the penthouse suite, I see Brodie with a stripper on each arm, heading upstairs for the bedroom.

  Fuck. This has trouble written all over it.

  ~

  Thank you for taking the time to read Devil in a Suit, book 1 in the Cocky Suits Series. Continue reading for sneak peeks into some of my other works, Shagged and Professor’s Pet.

  Also grab the freebie I have for you, Banging The Intern.

  At the very end is a sneak peek into Playboy in a Suit, book 2 in the Cocky Suits Series due to release on May 11th!

  Preview Shagged

  SHAGGED

  I don’t like people.

  I avoid them whenever possible.

  They always want something from me whether it’s money or attention.

  My ten-figure net worth isn’t the product of being what people would consider a “nice guy.”

  When I see something I want—I take it.

  I’ve been called an asshole more times than I can count, and I don’t care.

  Caring about things makes you vulnerable, and vulnerable is the last thing I’ll ever be.

  Until Christina walks in and threatens the foundation of my life with her tight little body, sassy mouth, and soft curves.

  She doesn’t put up with my sh*t.

  She makes me human.

  I fight the attraction.

  But, there’s one problem…

  I have to have her.

  And I will have her.

  Chapter 1

  Matthew Spencer was a man who had it all.

  He woke up to the sound of fake birds chirping and artificial sunrise creeping up his wall. It was a program on his phone, designed specifically for that purpose.

  He ran a rough, calloused hand through his hair and sighed contentedly. His eyes blinked open, focusing on the golden sun that slowly climbed to his left.

  Another beautiful day of being me.

  The rich aroma of his morning coffee wafted into his nose and he sniffed, then rolled over in bed, feeling quite rested and rejuvenated. Matty knew his morning routine by heart. He would get up at his own leisure, have a cup of coffee, eat a healthy breakfast prepared by his personal chef and nutritionist, and then maybe he’d consider starting work. Maybe.

  His phone switched on using the same system that handled his alarm routine. It buzzed with an influx of text messages and missed calls.

  Matty Spencer was a popular man. He was a loved man. But he was also a busy man, and he was not about to leap out of bed for anyone.

  They knew his phone was off all night. If it was important, they could come to him. They didn't need his attention. They just wanted it.

  Although being loved was a rewarding feeling, to Matty, it was also very tiring. He was not a machine, made to constantly please others. He was aware of how desperately they clung to him for his wealth and connections.

  The phone lit up again and rattled against the nightstand. He sighed and tensed up. It was as if he were under attack.

  He glanced at the phone and decided to scroll through. His mother and a couple of friends had tried to call him. The jingling-coins ringtone told him that he’d received a message from one of the countless gold-digging sluts on his booty-call list. He snickered at that.

  They all thought he was unaware of their intentions. He laughed at how foolish they were, knowing that he could play people the way they tried to play him. For all the people he despised and had to be polite to, there were hundreds more willing to grovel at his feet. He knew it was wrong to enjoy this, but he didn't care. Why should he put up with all the responsibilities of being wealthy and popular if he couldn't enjoy the perks?

  As his body acclimated to the day, he rose and scrolled through more of his messages. Thank God he kept separate phones, one personal and one business. He couldn't imagine digging through the pile of shit trying to find an important memo from a client or partner.

  Good morning texts from countless numbers who didn't even have names attached to them came through like clockwork. Sexts from three different girls—two with pictures. He didn’t ignore those.

  A message from his mother consisted of three hundred emojis and a cat picture. A few were friends begging for handouts. And, of course, one girl throwing a hissy fit because he’d rejected her the previous night.

  It wasn't his fault he wasn't always in the mood for her. Sometimes he wanted someone else.

  If there was one thing that Matty Spencer knew, it was the fact that he was an asshole. He wasn’t so deluded as to believe that everyone liked him, or that he couldn't try harder—that he shouldn't be better, but at the end of the day, he knew he didn�
��t have to be. It was good enough to be a billionaire, have every girl he reached for, and to be respected and admired.

  When he was younger, he’d often cared what others thought of him. He’d done everything he could to please them. It’d only taken being ripped off twice to realize that you couldn’t be a pushover in this world. From then on, he’d lived only for himself. At thirty-one, that philosophy had yet to fail him.

  He dropped his phone on the floor and walked to the window, pressing a button and watching the screen roll up. A beautiful view of the London skyline appeared in front of him. He nodded and smiled, pleased with the day, before wandering over to the other side of the room where his coffee would be ready.

  He sipped it. Perfect aroma, perfect taste, and perfect temperature. Modern technology was a wonderful thing, coordinating his mornings for him. He streamlined everything in his life to suit his needs. And to think that he’d funded and co-developed all the programs which made his house run so seamlessly. No doubt his shower would be ready to begin, his chef would’ve just received the message to prepare his breakfast, and his maids received an alarm telling them his bed would need to be made. Most mornings he didn't even have to think actual thoughts until eleven or twelve. It was beautiful.

  His business phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. A loud tone, immediately associated with one person. His secretary at his office. She knew not to contact him unless strictly necessary. Sighing, he called out to his robotic assistant on his phone. “Mia, answer call.”

  Emilia Hernandez's voice came through crystal clear as though she were standing next to him in the room. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Spencer. I’m sure it’s some misunderstanding, but—”

  “It's fine. What is it?” He took another sip of his coffee.

  “The partners from Watanabe Corp are here. The agenda does say you have a meeting with them.”

  “When? It's not on my planner.” He scrolled through his daily tasks.