Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  “You are. Without a doubt.” I smirked. “Anyone who thinks they can put up with me for three entire months has to be.”

  She breathed out a sigh. “I think I can handle you.”

  “We’ll see.” I took another bite. “Where is your head at?”

  “I…” she shook her head and reached for something in the seat next to her. “Here, it’s easier to simply show you.”

  I took the folder from her hand, my fingers brushing hers and lighting up like an electric current buzzed between us. Fuck, I might as well be a little girl in a fairytale. The chemistry was unlike any I’d experienced before, and I couldn’t fucking wait to see what would happen once I sank my dick inside her.

  After months of fantasizing about it, and last week’s delicious sample, I was having a hard time keeping it in my pants. Especially since she was the one who wanted it so bad. But that was why I had to lock it up. She was used to getting her way. Used to being in control. And I wanted to offer her something she didn’t have any experience in—being at the mercy of the man who wanted to worship her. That meant I called the shots on when I finally pushed her over the edge, and while I was beyond ready to take her there, it would be ten times better if I teased the hell out of her for a few weeks first.

  My dick would hate me for it, but it’d be worth it.

  I shifted the few pieces of paper inside, glancing over them. “I called it. You made a contract.”

  “No need to say I told you so,” she said, taking another drink of wine.

  “I know you better than you think I do.” I cocked an eyebrow at her, glancing from the contract to her barely touched food and near empty wine glass. “Eat, Red. Wouldn’t want you drunk for a business deal.”

  She grinned and picked up her fork, slowly taking a bite that drew attention to her perfect mouth. I’d never been more turned on watching a woman eat. I was so fucked.

  After a few moments, she cleared her throat. “If there is anything not to your liking we can discuss amending it.”

  “Seems straight-forward enough,” I said, closing the folder and setting it beside me on the table. “You have a list of items. I help you check them off. In return, you take me to charity events and parties and help me appear more wholesome to the public.”

  She nodded. “And…” she shifted in her seat, her clear nervousness over the discussion only making me want her more.

  “Am I forgetting something?” I asked.

  “You’ll be exclusive…to me for the duration of the agreement.”

  A sting sliced at my chest and I resisted the urge to flinch. What the fuck did you expect? She’s seen you operate. Of course she’d think you’d fuck other women while you fucked her.

  I pushed back from the table, setting my napkin over my cleaned plate. Her eyes widened as I tugged on the wooden arms of her chair, easily forcing her to face me as I leaned over her. “You think being exclusive will be difficult for me?”

  She swallowed roughly, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. My dick grew hard beneath my jeans, but I mentally told him to calm the fuck down. He wasn’t running this show.

  “Won’t it be?”

  I trailed my eyes up and down her body, tightening my grip on the armrests to keep my hands from slipping beneath her little black dress. “No, Red. Believe it or not, I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Finally getting to taste you? That’s worth the terms you’ve set.”

  She sucked in a breath. “And the fights? You can’t do anything that reckless while we’re together or it will ruin both of us.”

  I squinted at her, inhaling as I drew closer to her, taking in her sweet scent. “That will be harder.”

  “Impossible?”

  “No. It can’t be.” Any more incidents and I’d be off the Sharks. That was the only life I knew—the only life I wanted—and couldn’t lose it. I wouldn’t lose it.

  “Right,” she said, her voice breathless. “Not only for the Sharks but for me as well.”

  “I read that part. I understand you have an image to uphold.” I shook my head. How the hell had this brilliant flame of a woman allowed herself to be contained in the space of a candle? All she needed was a little oxygen, and she’d burn brighter than any fire if she just gave herself the freedom to breathe.

  “What?” She asked, her lips so close to mine it would only take a small tilt, and I could claim her mouth.

  “No wonder you need me.”

  “We need each other,” she corrected me, and the truth of the statement sucked the air out of my lungs. I froze above her, my eyes boring into hers. I didn’t need anyone. Never had. This was completely new territory, and no one had exactly handed me a map.

  “Whatever you say, Red.” I brushed her lips with mine, just a breath of a touch but it was enough to turn my semi into a full hard-on.

  “And,” she said, licking her lips as I pulled back an inch. “Once the three months are complete we go our separate ways.”

  “Awh, you don’t want to be friends?” I slowly slipped my knee between her legs, teasing her as I leaned closer, something in my chest rebelling at her imposed termination date.

  She closed her eyes as I allowed myself to trail one fingertip down her bare arm. “We just can’t fall in love.” Her words froze my motions, and I reclaimed the armrest, gripping it so hard the wood creaked under the pressure. She laughed softly, opening her eyes. “That’ll be the easiest part for you.”

  I pursed my lips, nodding. “Right.” I wasn’t a man who fell in love. I dropped panties. I changed women’s lives with body shaking orgasms. Lust was my domain. Lust was all I was capable of. And the girl of my fantasies knew it. That’s why she’d chosen me. So why did the notion make my chest ache—that I wasn’t someone she could possibly see a long-term relationship with when I knew that was exactly the kind of girl she was. But that wasn’t what she wanted from me, so maybe it was time to see exactly what she did. “Do I get to see this list?” I asked, suddenly needing to steer the conversation back to what I was good at—sex.

  She shook her head, her eyes teasing.

  “Really? How can help you if I don’t know what needs to be done?”

  She reached up, running her hands over my chest and down my abs. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

  I clucked my tongue at her. “What did I tell you about the control in this…whatever it is we’re doing?”

  “Relationship,” she said. “Say it. Because that’s what this is, and that’s what everyone will believe. And where our relationship is going to be very open, the details of our arrangement have to be our secret.”

  I slid my tongue across her bottom lip. “Relationship.” The word might as well have been in a foreign language with how familiar I was with it.

  “Good,” she said and slipped her hand beneath the waistband of my jeans, her fingers reaching for what raged in my pants.

  I hissed and pushed off the chair, putting a few feet of space between us. Her green eyes blazed as she looked at me in shock, and I smirked. “Tell me, am I just someone you chose to complete this list with, or am I on it?”

  “Number seven,” she answered instantly. She stood up, stalking toward me with the click of her heels echoing in my head. Damn, the fiery redhead would burn me from the inside out. I backed up until I hit the wall. “And I’m ready for that. Now.”

  She reached for me again, and I clasped my hands around her wrists pulling her toward me and spinning her until I pressed her back against the wall. Raising her arms above her head, I held her pinned there. “And who else is on this list of yours?”

  “What?” Her eyes flew wide.

  “This epic, dirty-girl list you have. If I’m #7, who else is on it?” The thought of tracking them all down and burying their bodies before they could touch Paige flew through my mind. Way to go caveman.

  “No one. There’s only you. I only want you.”

  I claimed her mouth. She tasted like wine and something a tad sweet, and it made my dick thr
ob so hard I had to push against her.

  Only me. I wasn’t a nameless trophy fuck. I was the only one this insanely brilliant woman wanted, the only one she trusted with this list of hers, and I wanted her just as badly.

  Gasping between my lips, she hooked her leg around my hip, shamelessly grinding against my dick as she sucked my tongue back into her mouth. “Fuck,” I growled.

  I had the woman pinned against the wall, and still she was taking control like no one else ever had. It would be so easy to sink into her—a quick unzip and slide her panties to the side, and she’d be screaming my name.

  Holding her hands up with only one of mine, I trailed my free hand down her side until I felt the smooth skin of her bare leg, her dress hiking up to her hip. My fingers met black lace—and not fucking much of it—as I grabbed her ass and hefted her against me. Before she could hop to lock her ankles around my hips, I gently nudged her leg down. Stopping took the effort of a hundred two-a-day practices, but I kissed her one last time and backed away.

  The creaminess of her skin was flushed, and her perfect breasts moved up and down as she caught her breath.

  “Not tonight,” I said.

  She eyed the evidence of just how much I fucking wanted her. “Why?”

  Because this is what you think you want, but it’s not what you need.

  I stepped closer to her, just enough to touch her chin. “I told you. I’m in control. I’ll give you what you want, but only when you want it most.”

  “I want it—”

  “No,” I cut her off, smirking. “You think you do. Just wait.” I winked at her and gave her a light kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for dinner,” I whispered before returning to the table to grab the contract. “I’ll sign this and bring it back.” I tapped the folder as I opened her front door.

  “When?” She asked, her hands popped onto her hips.

  “Soon.” She shut the door behind me as I stepped down her porch and walked slowly to her driveway.

  As I waited the ten minutes for my driver to pick me up, I battled the urge to say, “fuck it,” bust back through her door and carry Paige to her bed and sink deep inside her like my body begged.

  She wasn’t a woman you fucked quickly to get out of your system. She was the kind you savored. The slow burn that only made the flames brighter the longer you stoked it. Paige was a living, breathing flame. I just hoped I was strong enough to withstand her fire.

  Chapter 6

  Paige

  Monday morning and I was a tension-riddled mess behind my desk. It’d only been two days since dinner with Rory and his more than successful tease. I craved him like a glass of ice water on a hot day. His skin, his scent, his touch, were all I could think about. Which definitely didn’t help me focus as I finalized the details on an employee appreciation event for a thousand staff members from different departments in the company.

  The event was a bi-annual occasion we held in order to keep up morale as well as give employees the chance to voice any concerns or ideas they had for the future of the company. It was a tradition, and one I looked forward to each time. Still, if I wasn’t careful, I’d be scheduling the event at the Shark’s home rink with no more entertainment than to watch Rory shred the ice during practice.

  A buzz rang from the intercom on my desk. I clicked the button. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Turner is here to see you.”

  “Send him in.” I clicked off the com and smoothed my hair down while slipping my bare feet into my black pumps. I didn’t have any meetings today and had gotten comfortable while approving the event coordinator’s band choice for the appreciation party this weekend. Comfortable wasn’t a word my father understood.

  The wooden doors to my office swung open—my father was never one to make a subtle entrance. He wore one of his traditional gray, pinstriped suits that brought out the silver in his hair.

  “Paige.” He opened his arms as I came around my desk.

  “Father.” I hugged him, genuinely happy to see him. I always missed him when he went out of town on business, which often kept him away for weeks at a time, even when I was a child. I’d gotten used to seeing him around the office, where we would have daily lunches if meetings and schedules allowed it, and once he retired…well, I guess I’d have to grow up after all.

  “You look lovely,” he said, pushing me out and glancing at my three-piece black pant-suit and blazer combo.

  “Thank you.” I didn’t miss the emphasis in his compliment or the silent this is what the CEO of our company should present herself as part of the sentence. It didn’t bother me, as long as he was done lecturing me about the damn red dress. It had gotten me into more trouble than I knew how to handle—though it was also responsible, at least in part, for snagging me Rory for the next three months, too.

  “Everything set for this weekend?” He took a seat in one of the leather chairs I kept in front of my desk.

  “Yes.” I sat back down in my chair, clicking a tab on my computer. “Jeannine says she has something special planned for the self-serve stations.” I chuckled at my father’s panicked look. Our designated go-to caterer, and my best friend since sixth grade was one of the best chefs in the country—it was her wild lifestyle that had always concerned him. Started with the night she’d snuck me my first shot of Jack Daniels freshman year in high school. Father had flipped, forbidding our friendship, but my mother had talked him down.

  “You know she’ll take care of everyone.” I shifted my full focus on him. “And this year I’ve made a few changes.”

  “Oh yes?”

  I nodded. “We always stock enough food and drink to feed two times the number of guests, and since we always offer a casual yet classy atmosphere, one where patrons can pick and choose from the courses, I’d like to invite the frequenters of one of the local shelters to dine after our guests have served themselves.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “We threw out so much food last time. It’s a waste of our resources.”

  “And this has nothing to do with your pet project?” He smiled and tilted his head.

  He knew all about my ambitions and how I’d use them to not only keep our company profitable but expand into other areas as well. “Seattle has a need. We can fill it. At least for one day, we can make a dent in those who go hungry on a daily basis.”

  “Have you considered the consequences if the new names on the guest list don’t mingle well with the employees and stockholders the event is for? Or perhaps if the stockholders don’t take kindly to their presence?”

  A sour taste filled my mouth. Of course, I’d thought about the scenario, but I had enough faith in humanity to push forward. Didn’t mean I hadn’t done my due diligence, though. “I’ve doubled security in case there are any confrontations. But there won’t be. Our name, our brand is about providing the highest quality products and best service to the people who need them. These people need to eat. We’ll have an influx of food that day. It makes sense.”

  He rubbed the five o’clock shadow surfacing on his chin. “Your heart never ceases to surprise me. Nor does the tenacity in getting what you want.” He stood and came around the desk to kiss me on the forehead. “Make all the arrangements. I’ll sign off on whatever you need.”

  My heart lifted at the idea of all the people who would get to experience a five-star meal and eat their fill. “Thank you.”

  He glanced around my desk as if a company check would pop up that needed his signature.

  “I already approved it. The three most overcrowded shelters were contacted this morning.”

  He chuckled. “Of course. What need of me do you have anymore?”

  “Father…”

  He shook his head, reigning in his laugh. “You’re my perfect successor. I have no doubt.”

  He kissed my head again before leaving, and I slumped back into my chair. Usually, the pride I garnered from making my father proud was something I relished. Today, I couldn’t help but feel it was unmer
ited.

  After all, I’d already crossed off several numbers on my dirty-girl bucket list—#9: Purchase my first sexual paraphernalia (a scary looking red vibrator that, in fact, Jeannine had bought on my behalf so there would be no paper trail) and #3: Watch a M/M porn film (another endeavor Jeannine had been all too happy to join me in. Bailey had been there too, with popcorn and wine and many, many heated breaths)—and I couldn’t stop seeing the circle drawn around #7. It would be completed soon, along with the rest of the list unless Rory changed his mind and didn’t sign the contract.

  Number seven teased me with urgency, and yet it was easily the most damning on the list.

  How could I be the face of the corporation I loved when all I wanted to be was Rory’s?

  “A week and a half and you don’t call or respond to any of my texts—what makes you think you can waltz in here and demand a drink?” Jeannine’s snark didn’t match her smile as I took a seat at the large, wooden bar.

  “Drink and a meal, let’s not forget that.”

  She shook her head, her normally wild blonde curls tucked into a ponytail. She ran her hands down her immaculate white chef’s jacket. “Depends. Are you willing to sing for your supper?”

  “Absolutely,”—I leaned over the bar, lowering my voice so only we could hear—“and boy do I have a song to sing. After a scotch and soda.”

  “Tease.” She laughed but immediately poured my favorite drink and slid it in front of me. I unbuttoned my blazer and stretched my arms over my head, rolling my neck in an attempt to ease the tension there. It didn’t work—hadn’t worked the past few days. I’d come to the conclusion I’d never fully relax again until Rory picked up where he left off at my place. The image of him pinning me against the wall in my dining room flashed red hot in my mind, as it had so many times since he’d left me there to take an extremely cold shower. Had to give the man credit, though. He knew how to make me ache in places I never had before.

  I glanced around Jeannine’s restaurant—one of three she owned—my eyes hunting for anyone who might take an interest in my anticipated gossip session with my best friend.