Claiming Atlas (Completely Rocked Book 1)

by Jessalyn Jameson

  When her moans get louder, and she starts to clench around my fingers, her thighs twitching around my head, I release her and lean back.

  The heat between us could warm this champagne to near boiling.

  Kayla pushes up and looks down at me, her eyes wide, and her legs still twitching on the almost-orgasm I just stole from her. “What the hell, Atlas?” Her voice is breathy and brimming with irritation.

  I turn on the shower and unplug the drain. “Like I would leave you with blue balls,” I say as I grab each leg and pull her down into the tub with me.

  She gasps as she plunges into the cool water, but I silence her with a kiss, and move us so she’s under the warm stream of water from the shower. It doesn’t take long for her to wrap herself around me. She sucks her flavor from my tongue, and I press harder between her legs. She scoots closer, wrapping her legs tighter around my waist until her pussy is warm against my cock.

  Kayla slides up and down, pressing her tits into my chest while she presses her clit against my cock, moaning into my mouth as she climbs higher and higher, back to the edge of her orgasm. The tub warms up around us as hot water mixes with cold champagne, and water splashes out with each bump and grind of her pussy against my cock.

  She slides so far up that my dick gets caught and nearly finds his way inside like a happy little camper, and we both freeze, eyes wide as we look at each other. The tip rests at the door to her pussy, waiting for permission to enter, and I know I shouldn’t. Can’t. But if she gives me half the chance, I’m driving myself inside her like it’s the only home I’ve ever known.

  She’s thinking about how many chicks I’ve fucked.

  So many, Kayla, so many I’ve lost count.

  I nip at her bottom lip, then kiss her again, more gently this time.

  She has no idea, no way of knowing that I always wear a raincoat and I’m clean.

  Her tongue moves slowly against mine as she wages this inner war inside her head. I could just get out of the tub, go get a condom, do the right thing.

  She’s hesitant.

  I should be too.

  I kiss her softly for a few more seconds, then start to pull away—

  Her lips part and she moans into my mouth as she claims it again, then slides down onto my shaft, claiming that too. I hold as still as I can, afraid to move and ruin this moment, ruin the way her body is so warm inside, contradicting the coolness of the water/champagne combo, a mixture of sensations I don’t want to ruin and will never forget.

  She adjusts herself and her body stretches around me, and when she starts to move, riding me, the smooth friction of actual skin on skin contact is so much better than I remember. She kisses me with such fucking need... like she can’t get enough of me.

  I grip her waist and take over, pumping harder and harder. She pulls back, her lips swollen from kissing me so hard, and as she leans her head back, I watch her tits bounce with each thrust, watch her lips form small o’s when she gasps. She reaches down to finger her clit as I thrust into her tight, wet, perfect pussy.

  She’s made me break all my rules tonight, and as I shoot my load into her, filling her with me, with Atlas fucking Reynolds, and she arches her back so hard I think it may break, and her lips part on a scream of pleasure that shakes the glass shower door, I know I’d break every fucking rule with this woman over and over again.

  I hold her tightly to me as I finish, letting her tight pussy milk me for every single drop, then lean forward and pull her tits into my mouth, first one and then the other.

  Goodbye, perfect titties.

  I can never see Kayla again after this. There’s no fucking way.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kayla

  When the first shiver sends goosebumps over my skin, Atlas finally moves. We’ve been wrapped around one another for minutes now, neither of us wanting to move and ruin the way our bodies fit so perfectly together. But as the heat of passion has slowly faded away, leaving us sated and relaxed and half asleep, there’s no ignoring the fact that we’re sitting in a tub of lukewarm water.

  He reaches behind me and grabs the bottle of champagne, bringing it to his lips as he leans back to look at me. He takes a long drink, one dark eye holding mine, then sets the bottle down and leans forward to kiss me.

  As he parts my lips with his, I shiver again, and he pulls back, his lips twitching, then he slowly spins us around and scoots forward until I’m beneath the stream of hot water. I lean back and put my head under it, letting the hot water coat my hair and warm me up, then his mouth finds my breast and its warm too, and between his mouth and the hot shower, my goosebumps slowly fade away.

  His dick twitches, reminding me that he’s still inside me—like I could ignore that thick pressure—and I bring my head back level. He sucks hard on my nipple, then raises his head. He moves his hips slowly, tentatively, and as he moves, his dick grows, hardening inside of me, ready to go again.

  I laugh, then lean forward, clenching around his cock so he knows I’m ready again too. “Who even are you?” I whisper against his lips.

  Atlas nudges my nose with his. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

  I’VE BEEN AWAKE FOR a while now, but I don’t want to open my eyes. If I face the day, then I have to face that woman I became last night, and I’m not ready to see her. I’m not ready to be her.

  I’m definitely not ready to acknowledge the mistakes she made.

  I made.

  Atlas trails his hand up and down my side, following the curve of my hip and sending goosebumps out across my skin.

  Does he know I’m awake?

  The blackout curtains do a fantastic job of keeping the light out, but I have no way of knowing what time it is. How long did we sleep?

  He leans forward and brushes a kiss on my shoulder, then climbs out of bed. I do my best impression of someone who’s sound asleep until he closes the bathroom door and turns on the shower.

  I sit up quickly as shame floods my chest, suffocating my heart with a thickening ache. I didn’t make him wear a condom. How could I have been so stupid? My stomach twists and I don’t know if it’s from all the champagne I drank or from admitting to the fact that I made a really, really stupid decision.

  Twice.

  What was I thinking?

  I wasn’t.

  But I am now. I have to get tested. Immediately. Not that a test will do anything if I already caught something from Atlas, but it still must be done.

  “Holy shit.” I run my hands over my face—

  The water turns off and I freeze. I have less than a minute or two to get out of here before he comes out of the bathroom and we’re forced to have some weird, uncomfortable goodbye.

  I quickly get up from the bed and search for my clothes. Tucking my panties into my purse, I pull on my jeans and sweater, then search for my shoes. One of them is under the bed, and the other is by the door of the bathroom. I don’t even know how that happened.

  I pick them up and tiptoe to the door of the suite.

  “I hope you at least left the money on the nightstand.”

  My eyes close and I freeze, then I take a deep breath, straighten, and slowly turn around. “Hey, good morning, sorry, I—”

  He’s naked and still dripping wet.

  I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath through my nose to compose myself before looking at him again. “Do you have an aversion to clothing?”

  “Do you have an aversion to goodbye?”

  My heart pinches a little, and I’m not sure why. This was a one-night stand, nothing more. Right? I mean, does he want this to be something more? Of course not. That’s silly. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  His eyes narrow, but he nods. “All right, well, I guess I’ll see you around?”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “I guess so. Thanks for...” My eyes have a mind of their own, and as my gaze travels down his lean frame, I struggle with what to thank him for. A good time?

  “Thanks for teaching me new
ways to appreciate champagne.”

  I look back up at his eyes and he grins.

  He’s too damn sexy for his own good.

  “You’re welcome,” I say, unable to keep a straight face. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at champagne the same way again.” I do this sort of pathetic half-wave, then turn to go—

  “I’m clean, you know.”

  My hand freezes at the doorknob. I frown. “What?”

  “I know you’re worried about that. But I’m clean.”

  I turn back around.

  He steps toward me, and I think I better run, because he looks too damn good in nothing butter water droplets from the shower, and I’m trying to leave so this one-night stand doesn’t morph into two.

  I think I’ve made enough bad decisions to last me a lifetime.

  He stops a foot away from me. “What are you doing tonight?”

  His closeness makes memories of last night flood my brain, and I can’t answer because I can’t think.

  “Kayla.”

  Goddammit, the way he says my name. So calm and firm, like he’s ready to take command of my body all over again. I look up and meet his gaze.

  There’s that frustratingly sexy smirk again. “What are you doing tonight? I have this thing to go to, and I thought... well...” He runs his hand through his hair, pulling his bangs back. “I don’t know, maybe you want to come with me?”

  Yes. Of course I do. I’d go anywhere with him, especially naked and dripping wet like that, then I blink and give my head a quick shake because I have a prior commitment. “I can’t. I have a... thing.”

  With you.

  “Oh.” His shoulders slump and I can’t believe I just turned Atlas Reynolds down for a second night of mind-blowing sex.

  Except, did I? He thinks I did, but I know something he doesn’t know. We’ll be back here in this suite tonight, but only after he’s seen my final performance as Kincaid Summers. I take two small steps and close the space between us, then bring my lips to his in a quick kiss. I’m going to rock your world tonight, Atlas. “Thanks for an amazing night, Atlas.”

  He nods, holding my gaze until I turn away from him. Part of me waits for him to argue, to chase me, but I know that he won’t. That guy doesn’t chase women.

  I mean, except for me. I smile as I step into the elevator, then slowly turn around and meet his gaze as the door closes.

  But wait. He pursued me last night and got what he wanted.

  Which means... tonight could go either way. He’s already had me, so will he even want to do this again? Dammit. I ride the elevator down to the lobby, gripped with doubt. It weighs heavily on my chest, pushing the euphoria of last night aside and settling in around my heart like thick fog.

  I should have just told him we have the same destination tonight.

  I blew it, didn’t I?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Atlas

  By the time my driver calls up to tell us he’s here, I’m about ready to blow off this event tonight and head over to the titty bar in hopes of a glimpse of her. It wouldn’t be difficult to find her, seeing as how she’s the fucking headliner at Top Tier.

  I think.

  Technically, I still haven’t confirmed that she’s Kincaid Summers, and really, I don’t even care, except that might be my only way of tracking her down.

  If she’s not Kincaid, then all I know about her is that her name is Kayla, and I’m pretty confident there’s more than one in Nevada.

  But I’m not chasing after any ass, no matter how delectable it is, so I get ready for my evening of debauchery as planned.

  As Red and I exit the elevator, I punch Chris’ number into my phone.

  He answers quickly. “What’s up, Atlas? How’s Vegas treating you? I heard Little Johnny blasted your name all over the strip last night.” Chris laughs, loving every minute of my torture.

  “Bad news travels fast.”

  “Yeah, man, nothing draws a crowd better than a hot piece of ass like Atlas Reynolds.”

  “Whatever.” I climb into the backseat and Red hands the driver my invitation as he settles into the front.

  Time to be titillated. Or something.

  “So, who’d you take home last night?” Chris asks. “That chick from the plane again?”

  I roll my eyes. She’s history. “Nah, man. I met this gorgeous brunette with legs for days.” I settle into the seat and close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose.

  “You sound tormented. She leave you with blue balls or something?”

  I shake my head. “Not even close.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I broke my own rule, man.”

  “You tasted the pussy?” I can almost hear his eyes popping out of his head.

  “Yep.” I shake my head, even though he can’t see my frustration over the phone.

  “And?” Chris asks.

  “And nothing will ever taste good again.”

  “That bad, eh?”

  My eyes widen. “No, man, what? No, that fucking good. Nothing will ever taste good again because I’ve had the best thing there is and I want to eat it morning, noon, and night.”

  “Oh,” Chris says, laughing into the phone. “My bad. You should definitely leave songwriting to me, bro.”

  “Fuck off, dick.” I press end and slide the phone into the inside pocket of my sport coat. A text comes through, but I ignore it. Probably Chris calling me out for hanging up on him.

  My driver parks the car right out front, so I look up at the building. For something so invite only, I expected more. There’s not even a velvet rope and a line of people outside. What the fuck is this place? Had I been driving myself, I probably would have passed by a few times, then said fuck it and headed over to Top Tier. Two double doors are opened and a dark entryway expands beyond. On the wall above the second set of double doors hangs a neon sign that reads Midnight in purple.

  This must be the place.

  “You comin’?” I ask Red.

  He looks up at the building. “Fuck no, boss. You got me on a plane this week, but I draw the line at not being able to see.”

  I laugh. “Probably smart.” I step out of the car and close the door, then nod at Red. “But come in and check it out with me, bro.”

  Red’s shoulders fall. “Fine, but if something jumps out at me, I’m fucking gone, man.” He climbs out of the car, then looks back at the driver. “Five minutes. Tops.”

  I shake my head. “You’re a fucking pussy, Red.”

  He shrugs as he stands beside me. We both look up at the building.

  “Doesn’t look like much.”

  I shake my head. “No shit.”

  The invitation mentioned stripping me of my sight, but I’m relieved as we enter and it’s not pitch black inside. Weird shit can happen in the dark. The room glows with pale lavender lighting that shines up from the floor. The walls are white, draped with sheer white fabric. Large, perfectly round, mattress-like chairs dot the room. They’re tufted white leather and look almost cloudlike. People sprawl out on them, or sit on the edges as they chat over their pre-dinner cocktails. I look down at my empty hands and a server appears out of nowhere.

  I like this place already.

  He picks up a short glass of amber liquid and extends it toward me. “Fizzy Old Fashioned, sir?”

  I reach for it, then pause, my outstretched hand open midair. “What?” Did he say fizzy?

  He forces a smile that looks painful. Then raises the glass. One perfectly square ice cube sits in the center of the glass, surrounded by amber liquid, a thick curl of shaved orange peel sitting on top of the cube. “Fizzy Old Fashioned. The mistress has chosen to add bubbles to tonight’s cocktails.”

  I raise an eyebrow and glance over at Red. The mistress? Intrigued, I take the drink and bring it to my nose as I look around the room. Mistress means whips and chains, yeah? Is that what I’m here for tonight? To dominate someone? I’m down.

  “Never knew you were in
to bondage, boss.”

  I laugh, then glance at Red. “I’ll try everything once.”

  He grunts a laugh, then shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather coat.

  “You can go, bro. I don’t think anyone’s out to get me here.” I look around the room. “And not a Banger in sight, so I probably won’t get mauled.”

  Red laughs. “What will you do with yourself while unsupervised?”

  A blonde playmate from the last Hometown Hotties issue strolls past, giving me an invitation with the way she drags her gaze up and down my body. “I’m sure I’ll entertain myself somehow.” I look at Red. “But, seriously, man, see what you can find out for me, all right? If that chick was Kincaid Summers, track her down.”

  Red’s eyebrows fly up into his red hair. “Going back for sec—?”

  “Don’t even finish that thought.”

  He shrugs, then starts to head back to the entrance.

  “And go feed your fat ass, will ya? You’re wasting away.”

  Red flips me the bird as he disappears into the night.

  I take a sip of the custom cocktail, and the bubbles tickle my throat on their way down. I tilt my head. Huh. Not bad. Like... more refreshing than whiskey, but still a damn good burn.

  “Delightful, isn’t it?”

  My ears perk up at the sound of her voice. My dick perks up as well. The woman from the plane.

  I turn slowly, wetting my lips with my tongue. At least I know who to thank for the invitation to this shindig. I should have known.

  When our eyes meet, she smiles, and my dick nods his hello. She rakes her gaze down my body, her eyebrows rising just slightly when she reaches my pants, like she’s remembering my dick in her mouth, then she reaches out to run her fingers over the lapel of my coat. “Fioravanti,” she practically purrs, meeting my gaze once more.