He’s ginormous—that’s all I’m going to say. I avert my eyes, focusing on the door now. He walks behind his desk and removes his sports coat from the back of his chair and slips it on. Then we both gaze at the monitor; Dave is waiting.
“Get the door, darlin’.”
I swallow, knowing full well I look like a guilty puppy. I tentatively reach for the knob.
“Let me.” Joshua gently moves me aside and opens the door.
Dave stares at me first, then at Joshua. “Forty-five minutes.” He taps the face of his watch, clearly irritated at Joshua, then gazes at me. “Wesley is here, Macey.”
“What?” I’m in shock.
“You heard me.” He exhales exaggeratedly. “He’s waiting by the pool tables.”
My gaze zigzags around the office. I’m not ready to see my ex, don’t know if I ever will be. Especially after what just happened with Ivy League.
“What’s up?” Dave takes my hand, looking deeply concerned.
“Nothing,” I say on a huff, slipping by him. “Best get this over with.”
—
I can’t help watching as she approaches a guy wearing an expensive cowboy hat and boots. “Who is he?” I growl at Dave.
“Her ex, Wesley,” he answers. “Something going on here?”
I’m hesitant to say, but I know he cares about her. “Maybe.”
He hums in satisfaction, then stares at Macey. “The dickwad cheated on her while she was vacationing in Paris.”
I wet my lips, eyeing the son of a bitch with something a little more powerful than disapproval. “He looks intoxicated.” If I can find a reason to kick him out, I’ll be happy to.
“Buzzed.” Dave shrugs. “Is she cleared for stage?”
“Sure.” The little vixen hasn’t signed off on the handbook yet. Although I do need a reason to keep inviting her to my office. “Pencil her in low on the list.”
“No problem.” He takes off.
Now they have my full attention. I shut the door, leaning against it, straining to hear what Macey is saying. Her hands are moving a mile a minute.
“No,” she says. “You don’t get to come crawling back to me like you’re the one who was victimized.”
“I made a mistake.”
“Really?” Her tone is toxic. “Bet Monica doesn’t think so.”
“Leave her out of it.”
“You can’t tell me what to do anymore, cowboy.” She flicks the edge of his hat. “Go ride something that gives a shit.” She turns to leave, but he grabs her arm, snapping her back to attention. “Let go.” He shakes her.
I’m across the room before he can say anything. “Hands off,” I snarl.
I’m a head taller, so he gapes up at me, all glassy-eyed. “Fuck off.” He reeks of cheap beer.
I immediately clamp on to his free hand, digging my thumb into the soft flesh of his wrist. “Last chance.”
“Joshua…” Macey says, stepping back, finally released from the asshole’s clutch.
I take a quick look at her. “Go to the DJ booth.”
That’s when her ex takes a swing. I duck and his fist connects with air. I take advantage while he’s off balance and coldcock him in the side of the face. He staggers, smacking his head on the wall. It’s not worth the effort, he’s beyond buzzed, so I signal for the bouncer who’s already on his way to the back. My wish came true—he’s outta here.
“Couldn’t leave well enough alone…” Macey’s hands are balled at her sides while she chastises him. He’s clinging to the wall, his hat on the floor. “Coming here is one thing, but showing up drunk?”
She’s ready to burst, so I gather her in my arms; her whole body is shaking. “Come on.” I carry her to the office. She kicks her feet in protest. “He’ll regret it in the morning, trust me.” I open the door and stash her inside.
“Don’t keep me locked in here,” she says as soon as I let her go. “I want to watch Martin escort his drunk ass outside.”
She tries to maneuver around me, but I hold my ground. “Eight years of wrestling experience,” I warn, crouching. “I’m always happy to find a new sparring partner.”
That makes her smile. “Not football?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Why? Do you like the Cowboys?”
She frowns, throwing me a questionable look. “Live, eat, and breathe the game.”
Hmmm. For some reason that excites me. “Ever watch wrestling?” Say yes.
“WWE?” she asks. “Do I look like the kind of girl who’d waste brain cells on that crap?” She rolls her eyes. “I appreciate Olympic wrestling.”
That answer changes everything. Now I want to rip her clothes off and show her a few moves. “If you’re ever in the mood,” I offer. “Can’t promise I won’t cheat—there’s no way I’ll be able to keep my hands above your waist.” I can’t help the big smile that breaks across my face.
I’m rewarded with one in response, but her grin fades suddenly. And I know why.
“I need to see him,” she half pleads.
“No.” I lean down and brush my lips across her cheek. “Let’s get out of here.” She shouldn’t work tonight and there’s no way I’m leaving her alone. “Burgers and beer?”
She scrutinizes me with those wide blue eyes that seem to have a direct link to my cock. “Buffalo burgers?”
“Whatever you want,” I say. “Fuddruckers?” They have the best selection of exotic burgers in town.
“No,” she answers. “I’m not in the mood to go to a restaurant, but I have some buffalo meat at home.”
Not while her ex is on the prowl. And if I run into him again, I won’t be able to control my temper. “Compromise,” I counter. “We’ll stop by H-E-B on the way to my place.”
“Your place,” she repeats. “Can I rely on you to take care of me, Mr. Camden?”
I rub my chin, eyeing her, loving the way she looks in her costume—desperate to taste her again. “I’d say that depends on you, Ms. Taylor.”
She nods, understanding exactly what I mean. Then I pick up the phone and instruct Martin to bring her clothes to my office.
Chapter 7
By ten o’clock she’s curled up on my couch, wearing a pair of my warm-ups, and watching footage of me wrestling in high school tournaments. I’m on the balcony flipping inch-thick meat patties on the grill—laughing every time she covers her face or makes a smart-ass comment.
“I can’t believe you just did that!” she yells at the flat screen. “My God, half the positions you guys get into should be banned—it’s vulgar.”
I have a perfect view of her and the TV from outside. “Medium?”
“Yes,” she answers. “No!” She looks my way. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were into dudes.”
I grin; on the screen, my head is trapped between my opponent’s knees and I’m struggling to break free. “Can’t win them all.” The burgers are done and I head inside. “Ready to eat?”
She doesn’t look up. “Hold on—this is the best round.”
My stomach growls and I slink to the coffee table, grabbing the remote. I press pause. “Eat now, watch wrestling later.”
She lets out a heavy sigh, then scrambles off the couch. The dining room table is set, complete with lit tapered candles in expensive crystal holders my mom gave me when I bought the place. I pull out her chair.
“Thank you,” she says. “Tomatoes, pickles, romaine, jalapeños, olives, sweet relish, mayonnaise, mustard, ketchup, and pineapple slices?” Her eyebrows jump in surprise. “Impressive, Martha Stewart.”
“Hey,” I play along. “I’m a serious burger connoisseur. Wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
She reaches for the lettuce and tomatoes. “Try asking next time.”
“Didn’t want to disturb my newest wrestling fan.”
“Well.” She smooths a stray curl. “I admit there’s something titillating about seeing you in that black mini, the way it hugs your ass.” She takes a generous bite of her bur
ger. “Oh. My. God.”
“What?”
“This is sooo good.”
She’s adorable when she’s happy. “By the way, wrestlers don’t wear minis.”
“No?” She tries to sound innocent.
“It’s called a singlet.”
“Have one lying around anywhere?”
I nearly spit out my food. “Why?”
“We can play fashion show after dinner.”
I take another bite; it’s safer to keep my mouth shut at this point.
She finishes her food, then heads to the fridge for another beer. “Want one?”
“Sure.”
When she offers it, my fingers skim over the top of her hand. She freezes, her gaze locked on mine. “Did you feel that?” she asks, her demeanor instantly changing.
If she’s talking about the electrical discharge between us whenever we touch—fuck yeah, that’s the problem. She looks so broken up about it, I give her a sympathetic look and pull out the chair closest to me. She sits.
“Can you believe he showed up at the club?” She rests her elbows on the table, her cheek pressed against her palm. “And I’m supposed to just forget about everything and open up my arms and legs and welcome him home.”
“You lived together?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “But we spent a lot of time together.”
“You’re not alone, darlin’,” I confess, hoping she’ll sense how sympathetic I am. “My ex-fiancée decided to have an affair a couple months ago. It didn’t end well between us.”
After what feels like an eternity of silence, she speaks up. “What happened?”
“We lived together in upstate New York while I completed my grad degree. She knew from the beginning I intended to come home after I graduated. But when she found out I accepted the job at the Den, she freaked. End of story.”
“Where is she now?”
“At the moment…” I look at my watch. “Less than a mile away.”
“What?”
“She called a few nights ago and told me she’s in town. Asked if we could start over.” I laugh bitterly. “Seems like we’re both stuck between the same rock and hard place.”
Her eyes soften. “Screw them.”
“She wants to be ‘friends,’ ” I add for effect.
She clicks her tongue, then moves into a more comfortable position, stretching her perfect legs out. “And here we are.” She flicks me a cryptic look.
I flex my hand behind my back. Waiting for her to give me the green light. One word. That’s all it will take and I’ll attack her.
“What’d you major in?”
My cock withers a little. “Biology for my undergrad, MBA from Cornell.”
“I’m sure you know about my educational failure.”
I do. That’s something she can easily remedy. “Honestly, I’ve had other things on my mind.” She’s blunt; time for me to be the same.
“In a hurry?”
“Desperate,” I admit, facing her straight on. I am.
She bites her bottom lip. “Would you take me home to meet your family?”
“Darlin’…” I slide my chair closer. “I’d take you anywhere.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m nervous.” I can tell; her legs are restless.
Of course that makes me want her more. I’ll purge all fear from that tiny body once she gives me permission to touch her. My body is in overdrive, my mind stuck on what almost happened in my office earlier. She needs assurances. “I don’t want to do anything stupid, Macey.”
She gives me a dead-serious look. “Neither do I.”
“Whatever we’re feeling deserves a chance to grow.”
“B-but…”
“You can trust me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Realistically, she hasn’t known me long enough. Nevertheless, she needs to or I’m going to explode. I lift her hand to my lips. “I want you.” God, she’s beautiful.
Then her gaze darts to a picture on one of my bookshelves. She frowns. “Who’s that?”
I let her hand drop, mentally beating myself for leaving a photograph of my ex out. “Julia,” I say.
She sighs, rubbing her arms. “There’s not even a speck of dust on the frame.” She stands, then walks to the shelf. “Perfect.”
My heart sinks to my stomach. Yes, Julia is picture-perfect, but she’s hideous on the inside. “There’s no comparing the two of you.”
“I don’t expect there to be,” she says with complete confidence. “I’m comfortable with who I am, Joshua.”
It’s beyond gratifying to hear that insolence in her voice again. “That’s one of the things I admire most about you.”
She swings around. “You’ve only known me for a week.”
“I don’t care if it’s been one day,” I say, sliding my chair back. “Remember what I said about nature always winning?” I take a cautious step toward her. “This isn’t my choice.”
Her shifting body alerts me to the fact that I haven’t won her over yet. I hold my hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She closes her eyes and I hear her moan. “That’s what he said.”
“I’m not Wesley,” I growl. By the time she opens her eyes again I’m in front of her. “Choose, Macey.” I can’t take the tension anymore. If she’s not ready, I need to put some distance between us until she changes her mind. I’m nearly powerless to control what’s building up inside me. “Do you want me?”
She nods her head slightly, speechless.
I lower my mouth to hers, skimming her bottom lip with my tongue. She tastes like vanilla and it drives me nuts. Our tongues meet and her mouth is hot and inviting. I back her against the wall and grind my hips against her. She digs her fingernails into the sides of my head, pressing harder against me. Fuck. I pull back for a second, searching her eyes. She’s vulnerable and nearly heartbroken. Don’t do this.
“Joshua—”
“I’ll wait,” I pronounce without thinking. “Anything that promises to feel this good is worth it.”
“Thank you,” she says sweetly.
“For what?” My mind and body are at war.
“For showing me what a gentleman you truly are.” She stares between my legs, then meets my eyes again. “I’m through waiting.”
I need her lips on mine—now. I crash into her, ramming my tongue inside her mouth again. This time I don’t hold back. The kiss turns into a frantic assault as my hands slide underneath her shirt, finding the tips of her breasts, already pebble hard with excitement. I tweak her nipples, my tongue overpowering hers, my hips slamming against her. She slides her hands up my arms, stopping on my biceps. She has perfect breasts—overflowing in my palms.
Then my hands sink lower, grasping her firm thighs. I need to strip her down. “Turn around, Macey.” I let go so she can move.
With her facing away from me now, I practically rip her T-shirt off, flinging it across the room. Next, I slowly ease my sweats down her long legs. I love her mocha skin. She’s wearing a G-string—a kind I’ve never seen before. Instead of a strip of thin fabric running up the crack of her tight little ass, all I see is a string of sequins no wider than my pinkie. Hardly legal to wear at the club. I inhale through clenched teeth, while my gaze wanders up her backside. There’s a tattoo on the small of her back. Not the typical tramp-stamp design but an intricate weave of black Celtic knots and thorns surrounding the words LOYALTY IS THICKER THAN BLOOD.
She gazes over her shoulder. “Found my tat?”
“Among other things,” I say, my eyes locked on her perfect ass. “Is that how you really feel?” I need to know.
“Nothing matters more.”
I lose it. Already crouched, I kick my boots off, then strip down to my boxers. She hasn’t moved and I don’t want her to. My intention is to take her from behind, with her standing where she is. “You drive me crazy, Ms. Taylor.”
Our bodies collide. My hands are everywhere, exploring
her curves, finding the secret spots that make her moan and squeal. I lick my way up her back, following the curvature of her spine, ending at the base of her neck. I bury my hands in her long dark hair, breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo. Everything about this feels right.
After I sweep her hair aside, I finally get a full look at her neck. She’s flawless. And I don’t waste any more time; I bite her left shoulder, hugging her from behind. She arches her neck, resting her head against my chest. Desire surges through me and I grind my cock against her and whisper in her ear. “Only you.” Then I release her momentarily and ensnare her wrists, spreading her arms wide, so her palms are resting on the upper shelves. “Don’t move.” I twist out of my underwear.
Leaning into her again, I gently bend her over, silently encouraging her to thrust her ass in the air. Her hands never drop from where I placed them. “Good girl,” I say.
I tickle my way up the center of her hot pussy and impale her with my thumb, my fingers finding her clit. She’s fucking drenched. Her body jolts with pleasure as I slide in and out. I lean over and she turns her head just enough so I can capture her mouth. Our tongues swirl together and my cock aches to be inside her. I tease her some more, pinching her clit, easing in and out. After minutes of relentless torture, I’m unwilling to wait any longer. I extract my hand and reluctantly break our kiss.
“Why—”
“Don’t talk.” She faces forward, her ass bobbing as I position myself. I hear her take a deep breath and can feel her heart pounding. “Ready, darlin’?” She nods. Heat is fucking rolling off me as I plunge inside her, deliberately smooth and controlled. I don’t want to hurt her.
She screams and I stop; my jaw clenches. I’m only halfway in. “Shit, Macey.” I retreat slightly, giving her a second to recover. “Ready?”
Her head falls forward and I grip her hips, pounding into her with everything I have. Fuck. She’s so wet. I can’t stop. I pull out, then fill her again, enjoying the view of my cock disappearing inside her. I do it again, stretching and filling her to capacity. She moans, her hips moving with mine—her tiny body struggling to keep up with my thrusts. She cries out in pleasure.
I withdraw completely, then spin her around. She’s heaving for breath, her curls a damp beautiful mess. “Bedroom,” I growl, scooping her into my arms. I stalk down the hallway; I’m glad there’s a nightlight on in my room.
Sin Page 5
