Inked Playboy (Cocky Suits Chicago Book 5)

by Alex Wolf

  Like we both haven’t drunk enough already. I don’t know what it is about him. He’s so damn cocky and confident, hardened, and he has amazing tattoos. Still, it has to be something more. I’ve been through my share of men, and women while I was in college, but there’s just a spark there. A spark I’ve never felt before.

  Sparks are dangerous.

  Sparks derail your life and I’m only twenty-six. I feel like I know who I am already, which is fortunate, but I’m trying to build my firm from the ground up. Relationships and business start-ups don’t mix.

  If it was just sex, I’d be totally fine with it. Sex is a biological need. There’s something beneath this, though, and I shouldn’t be going exploring, but I am.

  I put the electronic key card in the slot and a bolt retracts, then we both half-walk, half-stumble into the room.

  “It’s pretty nice,” I say.

  As soon as I turn around, Cole Miller is kissing me, and goddamn he’s kissing me good.

  I bite his lip, because he looks like he’s enjoying himself too much and then shove him down on the bed. “Think you can talk to me the way you talked to me at the reception, asshole?”

  He smirks and nods. “I think I did. So clearly…”

  I’m on top of him before he can say another word, but he does some kind of roll maneuver and has me pinned down beneath him. Shit, I keep forgetting he’s one of the best MMA fighters of all time.

  He smirks at me again, and my blood boils even hotter. I strain against him, but it’s really no use.

  “Calm down, Collins.”

  My blood pressure hits infinity the second he says it. “Calm down, you mother—”

  His mouth crashes down on mine, cutting off my sentence, and my nails dig into his back.

  When our lips part, all I can gasp out is, “Take your fucking shirt off.”

  He wastes no time peeling it up his torso, and holy mother of God, he’s ripped. Solid muscle. And his tattoos…

  They’re works of art, especially on his body, which makes me hate him even more right now. He gives me an opening, letting up for just a second, and I crash up into him and have him on his back. Hands and limbs are everywhere, clothes flying in all directions.

  Truth be told, this is hot. Like super, super out-of-this-world hot. Angry, frustrated sex is the best kind.

  The room spins a little from all the rolling around and the whiskey at the reception, but fuck, Cole Miller does things to me, which is strange because I’ve never looked at him like this until tonight. Seeing him in a tuxedo, it was like he was a totally different man. He looked stately, refined, but then his tattoos peeked out at the bottom, and I just wanted to grab his face and shove it between my legs.

  Cole yanks me from my thoughts when two of his fingers slide deep inside me, rough as hell. A gasp parts my lips before I can hold it in.

  “You can act as mad as you want.” His mouth lands next to my ear. “Look how fucking wet you are.”

  I start to say something else and he takes his fingers even deeper, then circles my clit with his thumb.

  My whole body constricts, and I squeeze around him.

  How the hell is he about to get me off already? No man has ever come close to putting me on the edge this quick. He’s the perfect balance of delicate and rough, a damn sex artist. Cole Miller is a sex artist.

  I reach up and grip as much of his hair in my hand as I can, and yank on it so his face is turned toward mine. “What are you gonna do about it?”

  His smirk tells the whole story. He is by far the cockiest asshole I’ve ever met in my life, and it looks like it’s for good reason. He could breathe on my clit right now and I’d come apart from the inside.

  “Whatever the fuck I want.” His mouth crashes onto mine again, his fingers pumping in and out of me.

  I reach for his cock, and shit, it’s big, and the perfect shape. I’ve handled a few weirdly misshapen dicks in my day, and Cole Miller’s is perfect in size and symmetry.

  I stroke him a few times, then squeeze my hand around it as hard as I can. His eyes bulge from his head the second I do it, and he stares right at me like what the fuck?

  I stare right back at him with a hard glare. “You have permission to fuck me, but you wear a condom. Understand?” I squeeze him a little harder.

  He nods, very quickly.

  I go back to stroking him in a way I’m sure feels much more pleasant.

  Cole kisses down my neck and whispers, “Fucking psycho.”

  I smile the second he says it, where he can’t see. “Don’t fucking forget it, either.” My eyes roll back when his lips meet my neck, then come back and land on his. “I think that’s what you like about me.”

  He doesn’t need to respond because he works down between my legs, and holy God when his mouth lands on my pussy. If he’s halfway as skilled with his tongue as he is with his fingers, this is going to happen fast. Very fast.

  And he is.

  Within seconds I’m bucking my hips against his face, and he pins both of my legs down so hard I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

  I squirm against his grip because it’s so damn intense. He’s using fingers, tongue, everything. “Don’t stop. I’m so close.” I know it’s a mistake the second I say it.

  He stops and smiles at me.

  I give him the death glare.

  His eyes lock on mine and he barely dips his tongue out and grazes my clit with it. My whole body shudders, but I can’t get my release and it’s agony and bliss all wrapped up in one package. I glare back at him.

  He grins, clearly enjoying teasing me.

  “Don’t be a fucking prick.”

  “Why? I think that’s what you like about me.”

  I shouldn’t grin at him, but I do. I can’t help myself.

  Right as he smiles back, I reach down and grab the back of his head, then force his mouth onto me. Okay, I’m pretty sure he let me do it, but something in that moment where he let me feel like I was in control…

  I think there may have been feelings involved.

  Non-biological feelings, and this might be the best mistake I ever make in my life.

  It’s like we have our own rhythm together, which is rare in the bedroom. I like to fuck men. It’s not a big deal and I don’t hide it, well, except from my family because they really are psychos when it comes to me. As long as I’m being safe, I can do whatever the hell I please, though.

  And I’ve banged some duds that seemed promising. But Cole Miller is pitching a perfect game so far and he hasn’t even been inside me yet.

  His big hands wrap around my thighs and he yanks me against his mouth, then takes two fingers deep and focuses on my clit with his tongue.

  The second he makes contact, my back arches off the bed.

  Finally.

  The orgasm rolls through me in giant undulating waves, and I have no idea what I’m even saying out loud right now, but there’s no doubt it’s probably embarrassing as hell. This man just went down on me better than any man or woman ever has; better than I can get myself off with a vibrator.

  My chest rises and falls as I suck in huge breaths, like I can’t get air fast enough. It’s pure heaven. If euphoria were a drug, I just mainlined it straight into an artery.

  His mouth stays locked on my clit the entire time I get off all over his face.

  Eventually, he leans back and man, I realize I’m way drunker than I thought I was. The room is spinning a little. Cole fumbles with a condom and puts it on.

  How the hell is the sex this good when we’re both clearly inebriated? Usually, drunk sex sounds like an awesome idea but lacks in execution. This is phenomenal drunk sex, so far. Anyway, I don’t care because he leans up over me and the head of his dick presses up against my entrance.

  His eyebrows rise. “You sure?”

  Holy hell, it’s so hot. Him wanting a double confirmation of consent. A lot of guys get the condom on and you can’t get a word out before they’re trying to push their way in.
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  I nod, and fuck, fuck, fuck.

  He slides in slowly but fills me like I’ve never been filled. Right when he pushes deep, he hits the spot deep inside me.

  “Fuck, you feel so good.” He half mumbles the words.

  He looks like he’s enjoying this way too much, so I reach up and give him a little love tap on the cheek.

  His eyes widen the second I do it, like he’s never had a woman give him a little slap to make things interesting. What kind of women has he been sleeping with?

  My eyes widen. “Gonna fuck me now?”

  There’s a spark in his eye, and he pulls out of me and two big, strong hands dig into my hips and flip me over on my stomach. “It’s like that, Harlow?”

  I nod, but the second I start to respond, he has a fist full of my hair and he rams into me from behind.

  I might die the happiest death of all time. Nobody has ever fucked me this good before. I back into him as his hips crash into me and the smacking sounds of wet skin on skin echo through the hotel room. His rough fingers slide around and he strokes my clit as he pounds into me from behind.

  I’m almost done for already, again.

  Right when I’m about to come all over his huge dick, whack! His hand collides with my ass.

  “Shit.” My word comes out on a gasp. It takes me completely by surprise, but the delicious pain rips up my spine, and I throw my hips back even harder, needing him even more.

  “Like getting spanked? Like it rough, Harlow?” His hand tightens in my hair, so hard his knuckles dig into my scalp, and he smacks my ass again.

  God, it stings so damn good. My body is on fire, every cell in my body singing Cole Miller’s praises. There’s no way I can tell him that, though. He’s cocky enough as it is.

  “Shut up and get me off again, Miller. You talk too much.”

  Just as I say it, his hand shoves my head down into the pillow and he lifts one leg out to the side, hitting me from an entire new angle. I can’t move my head because he’s got all his weight pressed down on it. The way my cheek is sideways against the mattress, I can look up at his face, and he looks utterly amused.

  “Keep talking that shit.” He grins.

  I smirk back, even though he has me pinned down. It’s so damn good and I’m so damn close again. The one positive to him drinking all night is he’ll last longer. I could let him fuck me like this for hours. I don’t want it to ever end.

  There is something about being a little submissive too. It’s a lot of fun, but you have to make them work for it. You can’t just hand that type of control over. It has to be earned, and Cole Miller is earning the fuck out of it. Not to mention, submission with no pushback takes all the fun out of it. You have to goad them on to really get them to give it to you how you want it.

  Men look at me like I’m intimidating all day long, because I am. It’s how my cousins and my dad raised me. They knew the world is tough for a woman. I was taught to never take shit from anyone. Make people fear you. It really has served me well, even if I would like to be a little more girly about certain things. People mistake acting girly for weakness, though. They’ll take advantage of it. I like the respect that comes with being a hardass.

  Cole looks like he’s getting close, and just as I’m about to get off on his dick, he pulls out. I don’t need a second opportunity. I fly up and shove him down on the bed, then straddle him. To hell with it. It’s not like we can’t go for round two if he finishes right now. He’s pretty young. I’m sure I can get his dick hard again.

  And I want to ride him. I want to pin a former MMA champion under me and be in control. He’s had the steering wheel long enough. It’s my turn.

  I shove him down, straddle him, and sink onto his perfect dick.

  “Holy fuck.” That’s all he says as I roll my hips up and down on him, then grind against him.

  Both of his hands go straight to my tits, the usual guy move, but I like it even more when Cole does it. My nipples harden when he rolls them between his thumb and forefingers.

  “Gonna come on my dick?”

  I bend down and press my forehead to his, my tits against his chest. “Maybe I am, bitch.”

  He grins, and one of his palms smacks me on the ass, hard. Hard enough to leave a handprint I’m sure. My eyes flutter closed for a split-second.

  “You definitely are.” He tilts his head up and runs his tongue along my neck. “And you’ll say my name when you do it.”

  I shove his head back down, put both my hands around his neck, choking him a little, and work my hips in a circle. “You wish, asshole.”

  I think most men would freak out, but Cole just smiles right through it, like it doesn’t faze him at all. Like he loves it. He smacks my ass again, then one of his fingers works between my cheeks and presses up against my asshole. “I might take that too, if I want.”

  God, this man drives me insane, and in the best possible way. I have to outdo him now, so I start bouncing up and down on him, and his finger presses harder up against my asshole. I grab his other wrist and put his fingers up against my clit.

  “Make yourself useful and get me off.”

  “Fuck, Harlow.” He drags out the syllable as he works my clit. “You’re killing me.”

  And, I’m done.

  Fireworks go off in front of my eyelids and I clamp down around his cock. “Oh my God, Cole.” I groan, my entire body trembling on top of him. “Fuck.”

  Just as I’m halfway through the best orgasm of my life, sitting on top of Cole, his fingers dig into my hips and he shoves me down as he thrusts up and I don’t know if any man has ever been this deep before.

  He grunts, a primal, manly grunt. Like a thousand years of evolution and the survival of our species depends on him; that kind of grunt.

  I look down at him, halfway coming out of my orgasm, and it’s so damn hot. Just natural and perfect. He really is perfect, a beautiful man. Maybe the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. If he didn’t have a condom on, I think I would get pregnant instantly.

  Once we’re both finished, I sit there on top of him. He’s still inside me, still hard like he could fuck me again right now.

  Both of our eyes lock, and we just burst into laughter. I’m not sure why we both laugh, but the moment is intimate and real, and holy fuck I just had sex with Dexter’s best friend who’s like eight years older than me.

  Finally, I slide off him and land on my back at his side, both of us breathing hard and staring up at the ceiling.

  Shit.

  Ever so slowly, the fog of sex clears, and reality starts to seep in.

  What the hell did we just do?

  Chapter Three

  Cole Miller

  Sunlight burns into my retinas.

  There’s no way. No way that happened. It had to just be the best dream of my life, that’s all.

  Oh. Fuck.

  I lift up the covers next to me and I’m completely naked, but it seems I have the bed to myself. Shit, maybe it really was just a dream. It seemed more real than a dream. The second I move it feels like a lumberjack splits my head like a piece of wood on a chopping block.

  I’m never drinking again.

  I try to think back about everything that happened last night, but once I saw Harlow by the ice sculpture, everything gets blurry. I remember bits and pieces of some ridiculously amazing sex with her. Staring around the room, I realize it’s not mine. I’m definitely in a hotel.

  The toilet flushes in the bathroom. Shit.

  The night comes crashing back into me as I see the light illuminated along the bottom of the bathroom door. The handle turns, like it’s all happening in slow motion.

  Harlow Collins steps out of the bathroom, hair disheveled, in her wrinkled black cocktail dress from the wedding. The look on her face is priceless. It looks like she wants to murder me. It scares me and excites me all at the same time.

  She sees me awake and glares lasers right at me. I have a terrible hangover and yet somehow, I love every second of
this. She’s about to freak out, which means I can have a lot of fun with the moment.

  I roll over, facing away from her, like it’s no big deal, and rest my head on the pillow. “It’s early. Come back to bed.” I pat the bed behind me a couple times with my hand.

  I smile, where she can’t see, knowing she’s thinking about grabbing the sharpest object she can find and stabbing me in the back with it.

  “Come back to bed?” She talks through her teeth. “That’s your go-to line right now?”

  I turn back over, pretending to look annoyed, secretly wondering if I could get some morning sex. My dick’s stiff as a board under the covers. “What? It’s no big deal.”

  She rushes at me, then stops herself at the last second. She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “No big deal.” She says it at the ceiling, rolling her eyes, then clutches her head.

  Seems she drank as much as I did. That’s tough to do.

  I shrug. “So we had a little fun. I was good, wasn’t I?”

  Harlow is in her own little world, processing last night’s actions. I don’t even know if she heard me or not. She starts pacing, as fast as her hangover will allow, talking to herself. “It’s just sex. It was just a transaction between Cole Miller and me, totally biological…”

  “I’m literally lying right here and can hear you.”

  She wheels around on me, glaring.

  I hold up both hands in surrender. “You can fuck me if you wear a condom.” I smile right at her, then point. “That’s a direct quote.”

  She rushes at me, eyes full of hate. “I’ll gouge your goddamn eyes out.”

  I grip her forearms and roll over, pinning her to the bed. “You gonna calm…” I stop myself.

  Energy radiates through her body. She’s aroused right now. I can feel it in my bones. There’s no way she’ll give in while she’s sober. There’s too much at stake. But I can feel it there, in her DNA, like we’re quantum entangled with one another. It’s so weird. I just feel like I know her, everything she’s thinking.

  Her eyes bulge a little, and her jaw sets. “Let. Me. Go.”