The Hound: The Billionaire Brothers Book 2
Page 3
One of Jake’s hands went to my chin, tilting it up. My eyes flew open; his searching gaze pinned me to the spot. “Is that why you flipped out on me last week? You thought I was…”
“Maybe. Kind of. Could be.” I tried to look down, but his hand held my face up. The best I could do to escape was close my eyes again.
It seemed unlikely that I would ever mistake Jake for a stranger again. His body—hell, his mere presence was imprinting itself on me with every meeting. I’d never had this kind of reaction to a man before. It was like my frayed nerves were reaching out to him, twining and fusing together.
I hated feeling vulnerable like this. It reminded me of the times I’d longed to be comforted as a child. Now Jacob Stone was evoking all these feelings in me again—feelings that I’d spent a long time trampling down underneath me.
He rubbed my chin with his thumb. “And that’s why you’re wearing Evie’s pajamas? You stayed here last night?”
“It’s not a big deal.” I shrugged, looking at the floor. Not wanting to know how he knew they were Evie’s PJs.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
Was I supposed to? “It didn’t concern you.”
And it really didn’t. I’d been taking care of myself for a long time. It never occurred to me to tell him about my secret admirer. It was embarrassing enough to have one.
His hands dropped, making me suck in a quiet breath.
I felt the absence of his touch more keenly than when he first he laid his hands on me. My skin felt exposed, like I’d been too long on the beach without sunscreen.
“Didn’t. Concern me,” he echoed. His voice was as flat, dry and hard as the Arizona desert—without the heat.
“As fascinating as this all is,” Dominic said, “I’d like to get back to fucking my fiancée. You stay, you play.”
My eyes widened as Jake’s lips curved up. Oh god.
“No, I’m taking Annie for coffee.”
And he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the elevator.
Chapter Four
Jake
My fingers completely circled her wrist. How easy would it be for a psycho stalker to grab her? I wondered.
“Jake!”
I ignored her protests, until I heard her bare feet slap on the tile floor in the foyer. “Put your shoes on.”
Her voice echoed behind me. “Um, what about—”
“Shoes, Annie. Put. Them. On.”
I slapped the button to call the elevator harder than necessary then scrubbed my hand over my face. Like I didn’t have enough on my mind? Now I was imagining some asshole sniffing Annie’s hair while she slept.
Motherfucker.
“But—”
I sighed. “No buts. Unless you want to take your clothes off and join those two in the kitchen, we are leaving. I’ll get you your fucking coffee, and you can explain why having a stalker doesn’t concern me.”
It wasn’t until we were in the elevator and almost to the lobby when I really looked at her. Her expression was a mixture of irritation and anxiety, and her pajamas made her look like she was twelve.
Pajamas. Shit.
Well, I didn’t really care, to be totally honest. But I steered her to the closest coffee shop I knew of, which was just at the end of the block, so her walk of shame would be shorter.
“This is so embarrassing,” she muttered as I shoved her down onto a chair.
“Sit.”
She popped back up like a spring, glaring at me. “I’m not a dog, Jake.”
I shook my head as I went to the counter, knowing that saying one word—one syllable—about women being bitches would be a bad idea. Damn contrary woman.
“You didn’t even ask me what I like,” Annie grumbled when I got back to the table with drinks and a couple of muffins. At least she was sitting down now, and she hadn’t left. She turned the side of the cup to peer at the shorthand order written on it.
“I got you a mocha with an extra shot of espresso.”
She pouted. “What if I didn’t like chocolate?”
I blinked at her, speechless. Didn’t all girls like chocolate? Shit, even Stella loved hot cocoa when it was cold outside.
Annie said nothing more as she delicately sipped the drink. Satisfied that she seemed to be able to choke it down, I tore off a piece of muffin and shoved it in my mouth. She was playing me. Again.
Her slim fingers wrapped around the paper cup as she took bigger and longer sips. With each passing moment, she seemed more energized, yet calmer at the same time.
She was so intent on her coffee that she didn’t even notice a couple of women staring at her, probably wondering why she was wearing pajamas. I stared them down until they lowered their gazes and moved on to a table on the other side.
We sat in silence until we were half done our coffees, and the frown lines on her forehead had vanished.
I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “Okay, tell me everything I don’t know.”
Her eyebrow lifted. So did the corners of her mouth. “We could be here a while.”
What? Oh. “Smartass.”
The grin she flashed at me was completely disarming. I suspected that Annie Asato had a wicked sense of humor when not being targeted by some lovesick psycho. That information just made me feel… wicked.
Her cheeks turned red as she haltingly told me about the notes—which she brushed off—and the gifts. When she admitted that he’d left sexy lingerie right outside her front door, I sat up straight with two competing thoughts: How the hell did he get into the building? And how hot would she look like in the lingerie?
“Jake?”
I shook my head. “What color was it?”
Frown. “The box?”
“The panties.”
She reached for her coffee. “Seriously?”
Now it was my turn for a disarming grin. “Just kidding!” Sort of.
“Sure, and I’m the smartass.” She snorted and rolled her eyes as she tilted her head back to finish her drink.
Annie had a very long neck, I noticed. Other than a faint crease, probably from looking down at her phone, it was unblemished and very, very…biteable. Her shoulders probably were, too. It wouldn’t take much work to undo a few buttons of the oversized pajamas and slip the shirt off to expose. As my gaze wandered over her, I realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
I was attracted to her, sure. But the way this woman turned me around was beginning to irritate me. It wasn’t that I disrespected women—it was just that they were either goodhearted but naïve—like Evie—or a bunch of lying whores. Maybe that was harsh, but Stella’s mom sure hadn’t endeared me to the gender as a whole.
Annie didn’t seem to fit either of those descriptions. She was tiny but tough, wary but reckless. It was pretty dumb of her to jump me when she thought I was her stalker—even dumber and more dangerous if I actually had been the dude.
“I can put you up.” The words came out of my mouth before I registered what I was saying.
“Uh, escoof me?” There was still muffin in her mouth when her lips parted.
“Let’s face it. You can’t take care of yourself.”
Her face turned a kind of purple color, and her eyes were bugging out. “Can’t…”
Shit. “Are you choking?” I asked her, enunciating carefully and mentally reminding myself how to do the Heimlich. “Put your hands to your throat if you’re choking.”
“Can’t take care of myself?” she spluttered.
Oh. “No offense, honey. But we already know how shitty your ninja moves are. I’d feel better if you stayed at my place—which I know is safe—while we figure out who this asshole is and how to get rid of him.”
She blinked. “There are so many things wrong with that statement, that I don’t even know where to start.”
“Can you fight off a man who’s got a hundred pounds on you?”
Silence.
“Can this guy get into your building?”
>
More silence. There was a mulish set to Annie’s chin, reminding me of Stella when she didn’t want to get out of the bathtub.
I sat back, sighing. “Are you looking for trouble?” My muscles tensed as she kicked the leg of my chair.
“Mumble mumble coffee with you mumble mumble.”
“What’s it gonna be, Annie?” I waited.
The woman could do silence better than anyone I’d ever met, even guys in Special Forces. Maybe it was just her silence that rubbed me the wrong way. Most women I’d known only stopped yammering if my cock was in their mouths.
She stood up, pushing her chair back. “I’ll take my chances with Evie.”
I had to practically chase her back to Dom’s. For a slight woman, she had a powerful motor. She didn’t even hold the elevator for me, after charming the doorman. My frustration was rising as quickly as I did, all the way up to the penthouse.
When the doors opened, she was standing right there—easy to catch up to. Easy to catch. I opened my mouth to ask her why she wasn’t going in, until the sound effects echoed down the travertine hallway.
“You want me to lick that sweet pussy, don’t you?”
I heard Evie moan in response.
“Beg me, baby. Beg for my cock. If you’re a good girl I’ll let you have it—any way you want.”
“Jesus, Dom. Have some dignity,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. There was pussy-whipped, and then there was pussy-flayed. Thank god I had more self-control than that. Well, mostly.
Annie let out a shaky breath beside me. Her pink lips were parted, her eyes closed. And her warm body was frozen to the spot.
When I inched closer, she didn’t move—but she bit her lower lip. Hmmm.
“You still want to stay here?” I asked in a low voice. “Are you a voyeur, Annie? Tell me, does it turn you on to listen to them?”
She gasped so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. Almost.
“Yeah, I think you do. I think you wish someone’s tongue was in your pussy. I bet you’re getting wet just thinking about it.” Fuck, I was getting hard thinking about her thinking about it.
I moved closer to her side, my chest rubbing up against her shoulder. Her eyes flew open, but she stared straight ahead. “I-I-uh…”
“If I reached into your pants right now, what would I feel? I’m betting you don’t have any panties on.”
At the thought, more than just my chest rubbed against her. My cock felt like it was forged from steel. The tiny shake of her head made me grin.
“Bad girl, Annie.”
I cupped her breast through her loose cotton top, the swollen tip of her nipple pressing against my palm. It was a rash, reckless thing to do—but she didn’t stop me. It wasn’t the first time I’d copped a feel, but this was the first time my hand tingled, all the way up my arm.
“Fuck, yes!” Evie cried out. Apparently Dom’s tongue was hard at work. My mouth felt dry, and I swallowed hard.
Annie had leaned closer to me without realizing, turning her body toward me until only a couple of inches separated us. My dick surged in my jeans, instinctively seeking her—her heat, the flat plane of her belly, the warm, damp path down to her entrance. I thumbed her taut nipple, my hand curving around the underside of her tit.
“Jake, I—” she breathed, sucking in a breath when my fingers slid down to the waistband of her borrowed PJs.
I paused, waiting to see what she’d do. What she’d say.
When no reproach was forthcoming, I was emboldened to discover how she’d feel. How she’d taste and smell.
A whimper drifted over her lower lip as I slipped my hand under the hem of her soft shirt and brushed against her even softer skin.
Slowly, my fingertips skated over the quivering purgatory of flesh between her navel and the top of her mound.
The sounds of Dom and Evie making love assaulted our breathy silence. It was as if we mutually understood that speaking would shatter the moment. The heated path of my touch scalded my fingers, until only the dampness of her arousal could bring relief—or so I thought.
“Yes…” she hissed quietly as my index finger parted her lips below a delicate patch of hair. Her head lolled back, her pulse visibly jumping in her long neck. “Jake—”
Was it a warning? A demand to stop? I hesitated, painfully aware of her turgid, slippery clit under my finger. Oh fuck. She was throbbing, but our only point of physical connection was my hand in her goddamn pants and our breath on each other’s faces.
Until she grabbed my wrist.
My stomach flipped. With a sigh, I began to pull away—but she panted and urged me closer.
“No. More.”
Yeah, I did a mental fist pump. What kind of red-blooded man wouldn’t?”
“You are so wet.” I could smell her desire like a cloud between us as I dipped my finger into her.
In the other room, Evie’s guttural cries signaled that she was close to coming. Judging by the curses Dom was snarling, he was trying to get her there before he shot into her.
Her head lolled to the side, her slightly almond-shaped eyes dark and wide as she my gaze directly.
My stoicism—hell, my motherfucking patience—was at an end.
Chapter Five
Annie
I had never been so turned on in my entire life—and I was wearing pajamas covered in puppies.
“What is it, Annie?” Jake whispered in my ear. “You want more? More fingers? You want me to fuck you with my hand, until even the spaces between my fingers are slippery with your come?”
Yes, please!
As his words grew dirtier, his caresses lightened. His forefinger circled my entrance, nudging just enough for my muscles to spasm in an effort to lure him inside.
“I can’t really blame a guy for wanting you,” he said. “You’re kind of addictive—you know that? You’re like… I don’t know… eating fresh pineapple.”
“Pine-a-apple?” I stuttered.
He nodded. “It’s so fresh and juicy and sweet. It’s like eating sunshine, and you feel like you just can’t get enough—until you eat so much that your mouth burns afterward.”
“I-I-“ I licked her lips. “I’m burning you?”
“Honey, I’m damn close to going off like a firecracker,” he admitted.
I shivered as he bent over and ran his tongue from the base of my throat up to my jaw. His finger dragged over my clit at the same time.
My hips jerked and rolled. “Oh god, I’m going to—no, I can’t!” Sweat broke out at my temples as I struggled against my desires.
“Let it happen, Annie.”
I shook my head, frightened by the idea of losing control—even in pleasure. Of course, I’d already lost that battle—we still stood in the foyer.
Jake’s hand moved between my legs, his breath was hot in my ear, and my pants were halfway down my thighs.
His thick wrist flexed as I clutched at him.
“You wanna help?” he asked, his own breath shaky. I looked down at the prominent bulge nudging my hip. My hand brushed against him, and I was shocked by the heat and heft hidden by his clothes.
His groan took me by surprise. Maybe I thought that I was the only one affected here—that this was some kind of one-sided seduction.
“I can’t take that kind of help.” He tilted his hips away from me. “I don’t want to embarrass myself.”
Of course, it was perfectly fine for me to be embarrassed. My face felt as hot as the rest of my body. His lips on my cheekbone and the corner of my open mouth didn’t cool me down.
“I’m going to make you come so hard,” he promised. “You’ll feel so damn good. Just stop fighting it.”
My gaze shifted to his hand undulating against me, in me. The fleshy mound below his thumb was shiny with my juices.
His jaw was tight with the strain of holding his own pleasure back, his lips pressed together in concentration, and his gaze penetrated me just as mercilessly as his fingers.
I
knew—somehow—that if I told him to stop he’d step back and… well, that part I didn’t know. Lick his fingers, maybe? That realization was enough for me to stop pushing down the intense pleasure trying to travel through my body.
So I stopped fighting my shocking, primal need for him. Hell, I embraced it like it was coming home for the holidays. Sagging against him, I nodded.
“Please, Jake. I-I really want—oh oh oh!” I lost my ability to form real words as he drove me over the edge.
He held me together as I shattered, mending my broken pieces with his own harsh exhalation and soft cursing. Probably, I wasn’t the only one with damp pants at that moment. That helped me feel less… exposed and vulnerable—knowing that his self-control had also wavered.
Was I embarrassed? Yes, yes I definitely was.
It didn’t help that the sound of someone clearing their throat snapped my attention over to Evie and Dominic, now dressed, leaning against the hallway wall. Watching us. Evie’s eyes shone, but Dom’s expression was inscrutable.
Oh my god. I tipped over the edge from embarrassment to utter mortification, faster than I’d climaxed.
Jake chuckled in my ear. “You still want to take your chances here?” The tip of his tongue touched my earlobe, like he couldn’t resist tasting me. He withdrew his hand and tugged my pants back up.
With his hands around my waist, he turned us so that I couldn’t see my best friend and her fiancé. “Looks like you’re between a rock and a hard place,” he said. “Stay here, or stay with me.”
“I could go ho—”
My alternative proposal was shot down by his lips on mine.
Finally.
He kissed me hard—hot and demanding—and it took me a split second to remember that this was the first time.
Our first kiss.
In some ways, it was a step backwards from his… well, his finger fucking me. In other ways it was a mile ahead in terms of intimacy. Now this was the control I feared losing.
His head lifted slightly. “Here or with me,” he repeated. Those were apparently the only options.
Hoo boy. Should I take the rock or the hard place?