Her skin tightened under my touch as I roamed my hands over her bare arms, her covered breasts, and her hips. She parted her lips, reaching for mine instead of answering.
I pulled back but pressed my hard dick against her center, the heat scorching even with clothes on. I couldn’t fucking wait to rip them off, but I held my ground. She tilted her head backward, sighing from the connection as she dug her fingers into my back.
“Rory,” she groaned.
“Tell me,” I demanded. She needed to say it. There would be no misunderstandings between us in this department. Period.
“Rory, fuck me.” The fierce need in her voice nearly had me coming in my pants it was so fucking hot.
“More,” I said, nipping at the skin of her neck.
She sighed, the breath full of frustration as she wiggled against me.
I smirked, loving that she wanted this as badly as me. Contract or not.
“Paige,” I said, a warning to my tone as I moved an inch away from her.
She grabbed my hips and jerked me back to her, never losing my eyes. “Rory. I want you to fuck me so well I won’t ever forget.”
I hissed, the fire in those green eyes blazing in my blood. I threaded my fingers through her hair, arching her head backward. “Is that on your list?”
“You know it is.”
Slanting my mouth over hers, I pulled her close, relishing every single soft curve she had. Slowly I pulled her silk shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before I unbuttoned her pants, easily slipping the wide legs over her black heels which she left on.
“Fucking perfect.” I stayed on my knees, taking in every inch of her smooth skin covered only by the black lace of her bra and panties. Grabbing a handful of her gorgeous ass, I pulled her close and pushed her panties to the side just enough to kiss her already wet pussy.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, fisting my hair as I dipped my tongue inside her.
“You taste fucking divine.” Sweet—even better than the last time—and hot and mine. I hooked one hand underneath her knee and rested it over my shoulder, loving the bite of pain from her high heel on my back. I supported her balance with nothing but my arms and the grip on her hips, and the angle it gave me was worth every fucking day I spent at the gym.
“Rory.” My name was a whisper on her lips, and with the taste of her on my tongue, I was ready to sink deep inside her until Rory was the only word she knew.
I hummed against her wetness, growling as I pulled away and slipped a finger inside her. She ground against it with a greedy hunger that only made me harder. Any more and I would bust through my pants. “You’re there already,” I said, sucking in a sharp breath when she clenched around my fingers as I added another. Her response was so open, so honest, so incredibly hot that it would have taken me to my knees if I wasn’t already there.
She only responded with a moan as I pushed deeper inside her. “How badly do you want this?”
“God, Rory. Please.”
Fuck, Paige. The ache in her voice, the wet tightness of her body, she was so much better than every fantasy of mine she’d starred in. When she begged me like that, fuck it only made me want to make her come every day for the rest of her life.
Wait, what?
She rolled against my hand, another moan ripping from her lips, successfully grounding me in the present. I pressed deeper and sucked her clit into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue with just enough pressure until I felt her legs tremble around me. I tightened my hold on her as she flew apart around my mouth because while I’d pushed her over the edge, I would never let her fall.
“Rory!” She screamed and damn near ripped my hair out as she continued to come, aftershocks rippling around me. I gently stroked her before lightly kissing her soft, hot skin until she had come down. Unhooking her leg from over my shoulder, I didn’t let her stand on her own for long. I swept an arm beneath her knees and gently sat her on the couch.
Her eyes were hooded, and lust filled as I slowly peeled off my clothes. She took in every inch of my body, and I resisted the urge to flex. I was proud of my body, of the lengths I went to striving for my best, but the look in her eyes made me feel like a God. “We’re just getting started, Red.”
She licked her lips as I dropped my black briefs and scooped her off the couch. I could’ve easily fucked her there, or hell, I could’ve taken a left and went to the bedroom. But this was Paige, and no ordinary place would do.
I opened the balcony door and carried her out into the crisp Seattle air.
“Rory, what if someone sees?” The excitement in her eyes didn’t match the concern in her tone.
I gently set her on her feet, sliding her panties down her legs and over her heels. “Do you trust me?” I asked, kissing my way back up her leg until I’d reached her mouth. I threaded my fingers through her hair, holding my breath as I waited for her answer—somehow, it seemed more important than anything else I’d ever needed before.
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for only a moment before she wrapped her arms around my neck and hopped, locking her ankles around my back. “Yes,” she said before pressing her lips against mine.
I held her underneath her perfect ass, slowly guiding us until her back pressed against the glass. She hissed from the cold on her hot skin, but the way she arched against my hard cock said she liked it.
“Say it again,” I demanded, breaking our kiss as I shifted her above me, the tip of my dick brushing her wet center.
She shuddered around me, her eyes taking more time to focus as if we were high. Fuck, maybe we were. Maybe she was a dream.
“I trust you.”
I hissed, her words hitting the center of my chest. I slid inside her and growled as her tight walls hugged every inch of my dick with slick, molten heat. She clawed at my back as she rocked her hips up and down, matching each thrust I gave her with vigor. This woman was a match for me in every way, giving more than she took, meeting every challenge with one of her own.
“Fuck, Red. You feel amazing.” The words came out more like a growl, but I couldn’t help it. Something primal inside of me wanted to claim this woman for my own in a way I’d never felt before. With each of her moans, I felt like fucking Superman, the gratification of her clenching around me, over and over again, was better than winning ten championships. Better than the feel of a good fight, better than the ice beneath my skates and a stick in my gloved hands. My blood was on fire, my skin electric, all because of her.
I pulled my head back, just enough to catch her eyes. They locked onto mine as I slowed our pace and I knew she could see through me, see where my head was at. The moment was charged, a current connecting us on more levels than physical.
Fuck, I’m a goner.
I shifted, holding her weight with only one arm, taking my free hand to cup her cheek as I slowly pumped inside her, never losing those gorgeous green eyes of hers. Her breath quickened, another wave crashing over my dick as she tightened around me. The look in her eyes before she gently set her mouth against mine had me crashing right alongside her—coming in the instant she did—and it was so hard I nearly lost all balance I had.
Shit! I flinched as the blood rushed back to my brain and I realized how fucking perfect I felt—bare—inside her.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
“I didn’t grab a condom,” I said, glancing down like I could magically turn back the moment. Panic rippled through my blood as all the heat from my body drained. I cursed myself for getting so lost in the moment with her, something that had never happened before. I always remembered to wrap it up.
She chuckled, the motion making me hard again, and a mental battle instantly warred as I slowly moved inside her because it felt so fucking good. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,” she said and the heat came rushing back in such a huge relief I almost high fived her.
“Me too. The clean part at least.”
“Well, now that we’ve got that settled.”
I grinned, steadying myself, and held her close. With the city I loved at my back, and still being inside the woman of my dreams, I realized just how absolutely fucked I was.
There would never be another woman who saw the heart of me, past the uniform and the trophies. Paige didn’t need my money, my name, my position—hell, she wanted me in spite of those things. She rocked me to my core, more than physically—though I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to have sex again without seeing her face, calling out her name. She knew my demons and held me anyway. She trusted me, believed in me. I hadn’t just crossed off an item on her list—I’d let her in. All the way in. And now I didn’t want to let her go. Ever.
And I had less than three months to get her to feel the same way.
I kissed her again before leaning my forehead against hers, allowing my eyes to close as we caught our breath.
Chapter 10
Paige
Don’t think about Rory. Don’t think about Rory.
I chanted the mantra over and over to myself, trying to drown out the still hot and fresh memories from my mind. Rory’s Greek-God-like body, cut in all the right ways, moving in all the right ways against me, inside me…on the balcony, in his bed, in his kitchen. I was still sore, and it had been two days. The best sex of my life by far, but I couldn’t deny something more had happened than just world-bending orgasms that night. Something had shifted inside me, and it wasn’t just his perfect cock. The last piece of me that had been holding back, keeping Rory locked in a file with nothing but a contract, fell. I fell. And it had left me terrified.
Sweat popped on the back on my neck as my skin flushed from the memory and again I forced myself to concentrate. If I didn’t, I’d end up blurting out how perfect Rory’s body was at the press conference.
Focus!
I gripped my iPhone; the prepared speech pulled up on the screen as I stepped out of the company car. This—right here, this was where I would make a difference. Where I would leave my mark. Tears bit the backs of my eyes as I took in the perfect location for my shelter, but I kept them on lockdown right alongside thoughts of Rory.
A warm shiver danced across my skin just thinking his name.
My black pumps crunched against the gravel as I made my way to the massive brick building that had once been a company that made phonebooks. The place had long been on the market, and it needed work, but I could see the potential where other buyers hadn’t. I’d signed the papers last week.
A slew of reporters waited outside the front of the building ready to take my statements on what exactly I was doing with the place. The site was also crowded with workers, already implementing the plans I’d discussed with the contractor, electrician, and code manager I’d hired. The hustle of steps and sounds of power tools thrilled me to the point of being giddy. My dream finally bursting with life. It wouldn’t be long before it would serve this community in ways no shelter ever had before.
“Ms. Turner!” Reporters started shouting the minute I stepped up the concrete stairs to address them.
“Yes?” I pointed to the first journalist I’d heard.
The crowd hushed and waited. “Are the rumors about you and Mr. Jackson true?”
My mouth went dry, but I straightened my spine, offering them a soft smile. “This is a press conference to discuss the objectives of the newest undertaking at CranBaby Organics, not a tell all on my personal life.” Not that I was trying to hide Rory—we’d been caught on camera holding hands and even kissing—but I wasn’t prepared to be vetted about him here. This was about my shelter, not my “relationship.”
The fact that I still couldn’t think of it as a real relationship had my stomach sinking in ways it had no right to. Rory and I had made a deal. A business deal, and just because something had changed inside me that night, didn’t mean Rory’s feelings had. He was still the notorious bad boy of the Shark’s and would return to his playboy status once our three months were up. I’d simply have to guard my heart more carefully and enjoy the time I had.
Keep telling yourself that.
And here I was thinking about Rory when I should be announcing my dream project. I shifted on my pumps, maintaining my smile.
“Apologies, Ms. Turner,” the reporter said. “Can’t help the curiosity.”
I nodded. Rory needed the good press, too, and who was I to not answer one little question that could help his image in the media? “Quite all right,” I said, smoothing down my fitted gray T which laid over my nicest blue jeans. I may be in heels, but I came here to get my hands dirty. “Mr. Jackson and I are together. Now they aren’t rumors, and we can discuss the matter at hand.” I motioned to the gorgeous building behind me.
The reporter grinned, and I took the silence to explain the intricacies of the project. By the time I was done, I had nearly cried twice. God, my emotions were all over the place. “As you can tell,” I dabbed at the corner of one eye that had traitorously given up one tear. “You can see how important this is to me, and to CranBaby Organics. This will be no ordinary shelter. It won’t simply feed and house Seattle’s homeless. It will give them resources, outreach programs, and training to get back the lives they once had. Our city deserves it, but more so, they do.”
A round of applause drowned out the sounds of the workers and volunteers inside the building, and I flashed the reporters my media worthy smile—not too much teeth, just enough lip. And after a quick round of questions, I thanked them all for coming and turned to step inside the building.
It was one thing to have a dream, and quite another to see it come to life.
The main level was perfect—a wide open floorplan that would be constructed into a warm, welcoming, not at all clinical lobby for those in need. I’d told my contractor I wanted them to feel as if they were checking into a hotel, not a poorly funded charity.
People hustled back and forth, carrying two by fours and tools and charts and wires. The buzz was intoxicating enough to steal my breath. Or maybe it was the face I easily recognized carting two massive pieces of wood over his shoulders that stopped my heart.
“Rory?” My voice squeaked from the shock of seeing him here.
He followed my voice until he spotted me standing there gaping at him. “Just a sec!” He called, hurrying across the massive room to drop the boards in a fastly growing pile. He strolled back toward me, his jeans dirtied with sawdust and grime. The white T-shirt he wore clung to his rock hard abs from the sweat dripping slowly down his arms.
The closer he got to me the harder it was to breathe, as if my heart filled up my entire chest so there was no room for air. Kissing my cheek once he reached me, I stood frozen.
He glanced down at my pumps before returning those crystal blue eyes to mine. “You know how fond I am of those,” he pointed to them. “But they aren’t really what I’d have you working in here.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so you’re the boss now?”
He smirked. “You like it when I’m in control.” He shifted closer to me. He smelled like fresh cut wood and one hundred percent man. “Admit it.”
I bit my bottom lip, the pain sharpening the wits I always lost around him. “What are you doing here?” I smiled as I gestured to the building around us.
“No practice today.”
“So on all non-practice days, you roam the city looking for charities in need?” I teased.
“Only ones who are headed up by gorgeous redheads.” A flush danced across my cheeks, and he grinned. “This is important to you. That makes it important to me.”
I swallowed hard, squinting at him as if that would make the truth easier to see. Was he saying that because it’s what a man in a relationship would say? Was he only behaving this way because it had been in our contract that we must act like a real couple? The lines were now so blurry I didn’t know how to draw new ones, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Suddenly, the last thing I wanted to do was work. The only thing I wanted making me sweat was Rory.
“Later,” he whispered as if he could read my mind.
“Excuse me?” I asked, breathless.
He flashed me a knowing look and lightly trailed his fingers over the skin of my collarbone. “Later,” he repeated. “Now, we have work to do.” He winked and turned around, walking back across the room to where he’d dropped off the boards.
For a few moments, I stood rooted to the spot as I watched him ask my head contractor what needed to be done. The air grew thin again, and my heart took off like it had just joined a race. The feeling—the consuming, electric, pulsing, aching, need—filled every inch of available space inside my soul and it only awoke in the presence of one man. Rory.
Oh holy hell. I’m in love with him.
Somehow the crush I’d had for years had grown into something deeper, more meaningful as my eyes were opened to not just the guy I saw at Bailey and Gage’s, but the man he really was. The truth of the thought only added to the butterflies in my stomach followed quickly by a generous splash of ice cold fear. I was in love with a man I’d contracted to be with me for three months, and three months only.
A bad boy shark and a proper corporation princess had no real business being together. Nothing real enough to last. Did we?
“You coming, Red?” Rory’s voice drew me out of myself, and I tossed him a fake smile. The crease between his brow flashed. “You all right?”
“Yes, of course. Let’s get to work.” I hurried past him, seeking out my electrician and silently thanking him for using big words I could barely understand. It was enough to silence the excitement and fear blaring in my head, screaming the only thing that mattered at the moment.
I was in love, and it had an expiration date.
After working half the day away, I hadn’t successfully buried my worries, but I had successfully gotten good and dirty. Sweat soaked my jeans and shirt, the back of my neck, and my hands were covered in grime, but it felt good. The grit was a testament to how much we accomplished today and watching the crew rally and put into motion plans I’d dreamt of for years was a pile of icing on one hell of a cake.
Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2) Page 11
