“That’s just the first round, beautiful Becca. Rest up sweetheart, because I plan to wear you out.”
Jackson
“Christ woman, are you trying to kill me?”
Whatever I’d expected from the fiery woman with smoky gray eyes, it’d hadn’t been for her to rock my world like no one before her.
She laughed, deep and husky. It made her tits bounce and jiggle. My mouth watered as she turned on her side to face me. “I’m not trying to, but if your life stands in the way of that kind of pleasure, I have to consider my thoughts on the topic.” Her gaze was stone cold sober. For about ten seconds and then she burst out laughing again, resting her head on my chest. “Your face was priceless.”
I tickled her side and the sounds of her laughter had my cock ready to play again. “Very funny Becca.”
“I thought so,” she said on a deep sigh of contentment as she turned on her back, still struggling to catch her breath. “So Jackson Steele, tell me something about yourself.”
I flopped back on the bed. This was the point in the evening where the woman wanted to know if I knew the latest “It” celebrity to grace all the magazine covers, or if I was headed to some exotic location for a shoot that they could finagle an invitation to. It was part of the game, I fucking knew it was, but for some reason I thought Becca was different. “What would you like to know?” I braced myself for her question.
“I don’t know, do you have any siblings? How does your mom feel about seeing you ten feet tall in nothing but your birthday suit?”
What? “Seriously, that’s what you want to know?” She had to be fucking with me, I just knew it.
“Yeah. Is it too personal for a one night stand?”
A small turn of my neck and I could see her, skin flushed either from embarrassment or the way I’d just fucked her, I couldn’t tell. But she turned to face me and her gaze was sincere. “I am a one of a kind model, beautiful Becca.”
“Oh, jeez,” she groaned and laughed.
I clutched my chest. “You wound my ego, woman!”
She laughed again and I swear, that sound, it was the kind of sound a man would act a damn fool to hear again and again. “Oh, please! We both know you have the ego of ten men. No, make that ten presidents!”
She was right, but she was also too damn smug about it, so I leaned forward and pulled a nipple in my mouth and sucked until she moaned, and gripped me tightly. “I didn’t say it wasn’t warranted,” she said when I pulled back. “But that ego is just a fact, Mr. Steele.”
Was it wrong that my cock stood up at attention at the way she called me Mr. Steele? If it was, I didn’t give a damn. It was hot. “My mom was proud, but suggested that next time I might want to wear a bit more clothing.”
“Oh my god, that is incredible! Your mom sounds pretty cool.”
“She is, and she’s glad I’m done modeling. Said it wasn’t right for a man to have the whole world fawning over him, not that I ever had to worry about that. Mom made it her personal mission to keep me grounded.”
Becca snorted adorably. “Sorry Mrs. Steele, but you failed.”
“What about you?” Now that she’d asked, I was curious about her life outside of being Eric’s assistant and cousin.
“No siblings, and if I ever showed up naked on a billboard in Times Square, my mother would probably find a way to make it all about her. Maybe use it to reel in another loser.” She bit her lip like she hadn’t meant to say all that. “Forget I said that.”
“Impossible, but I won’t ask a follow up, how’s that?”
She turned and laid me out with the biggest, sexiest smile I’d seen her wear yet. “Well now you’re just trying to charm me into being naughty again.” Her words were punctuated, intensified by her slow cat-like movements. She straddled my hips, letting her already wet cunt drag along my swollen cock.
“Is it working?” The sight of her, writhing on top of me with her perky tits moving hypnotically, had my blood on fire and aching to slide into her again. When she didn’t answer, I slid a hand between her thighs and rubbed her clit.
“Maybe. Keep doing that and I’ll let you know.”
My fingers moved faster and her hips joined the dance, hot little gasps and moans escaped from her mouth. I stopped and the scowl she sent me yanked a laugh right from my belly.
“You think that’s funny?” I nodded and her gray eyes narrowed, but she was up to something. “Fine,” she slid off my body and lay flat on her back, one hand already between her legs.
I was stunned, shocked and so fucking hard I thought my cock would break as she played with her pussy. Pleasured herself. I couldn’t look away from her slender fingers rubbing furious circles against her clit. Those same fingers occasionally sliding down to enter herself. “Fuck me, Becca.” I began to stroke my cock, watching and listening to her moans, the slick sound of her arousal as she moved closer and closer to orgasm.
“I tried that, didn’t work,” she panted.
Fuck she was right. And she was a tease. “You’re not the only one who can tease, Becca.” I rolled over and held her thighs wide, watching as her fingers never faltered in her hunt for the ultimate pleasure.
“You gonna watch, or join?”
Oh, I had every intention of joining, but not how she thought. While she worked her clit, I slid my tongue deep inside her pussy, fucking her with my tongue. Over and over, I slid deep and licked around her walls, smiling at the way she squeezed my tongue. I lapped up her juices as her body wound tighter and tighter, coming closer to orgasm.
“Jackson! Oh…,” she trailed off and groaned when I stopped licking her. “What the hell, man?”
I laughed and got on my knees, stroking my cock. Her gaze trailed down my chest and abs, to where my hand slid up and down my shaft. Her gray eyes turned damn near black and she licked her lips. “Sucks to be left hanging, doesn’t it?”
Becca’s eyes rolled heavily and she dug her heels into my ass. “Depends. What are you planning to do with that, ah, thing,” she moaned as my head breached her opening. “Yeah, do that. I approve.”
I chuckled and took her, hard and fast, both of us so turned on it took just a few minutes for her name to fall from my lips and her nails to scrape down my back. “Yep, definitely trying to kill me.”
“Maybe I’m trying to kill us both. I always hoped I would die with a smile on my face.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. She was, without a doubt, unlike any other woman I knew. Usually by now they would be posed across the bed to present themselves in the best light, but not Becca. Her hair was a mess, her makeup had been washed off in the shower earlier, and her skin was still slick from exertion. But she looked gorgeous to me. “Morbid post-sex talk, Becca.”
“Well,” she began with a hint of mischief, “I could ask more questions about your mother, but I figured that would be worse.”
I groaned. “Definitely not that.”
She laughed again, gasping when I slid a finger deep inside her. I had a feeling I was becoming addicted to her and that just couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it. “Okay then, I have another question.”
“Shoot.” Maybe she would ask something easy, like my net worth, or if I could introduce her to Clooney.
“Is it weird to watch yourself in a movie?”
Damn, another good question. She was full of them. Thoughtful and insightful questions that interviewers rarely asked. That combined with the sex and I knew this girl could be trouble.
“Yep,” I told her quickly, leaning over to lick the sensitive flesh under her tits. And with one little moan, I was able to remind myself that this was sex. Just another one night stand.
Just how it was meant to be.
Becca
I woke up early the next morning, as Jackson had promised, completely and utterly worn out. My body ached in places that didn’t normally ache after sex and I couldn’t find any remorse in me, just pride mixed with a hint of discomfort. The most wickedly delicious
kind of discomfort, but still I would need a hot bath in my future. But as I slid on last night’s dress and stilettos all I felt was the discomfort of trying to contort into last night’s clothes—without panties thanks to Jackson—without waking my lover for a night. I took one last look at his sleeping form, gorgeous and ripped and damn near sweet, before I crept from the room and made my way across the lavish lobby to the parking lot where my little Prius waited.
Doing the walk of shame didn’t feel so shameful when you had on a designer dress, freshly fucked up hair and a smile that not even early morning traffic could diminish. And the smile wasn’t just about the sex, dammit. Between rounds of sex—four of them, maybe five, thank you very much—we actually talked. He’d told me all about his career goals, surprised when I’d asked, he’d told me that he wanted to write an Academy Award winning film. He wanted to write a play or maybe a musical. And he’d shocked the hell out of me when he said he wanted to write a novel, not a memoir or a tell-all, but a coming of age story set in the Midwest. Yeah, Jackson’s words had surprised me, stuck with me, even more than the mind-blowing sex.
And the sex was more than mind-blowing. It had felt like a hell of a lot more than a one night stand, which was weird because that’s exactly what it was. Jackson wasn’t a relationship guy, he had too many options for that. But the way he kissed me, loved my body, it was confusing as hell. My mind, she was smart and knew it was just an overload of pleasure. But my heart and my body were in cahoots to convince me it was more.
I spent the nearly sixty minute drive home, reliving all of the naughty things Jackson had done to me and that I had done to him. He wasn’t just skilled in the bedroom, but eager and adventurous. The man seemed to get off on pleasing me, every cry and moan made him harder, made him thrust deeper until I submitted. Give in to the passion he stirred in me, and he held me as I fell over the edge. The images had gotten so vivid, I had to take a few minutes for myself in the shower just to stop the constant throbbing between my thighs. Jackson fucking Steele was a potent man. He should come with a warning label.
He’d been everything he promised, and then some. Thank goodness I had a talk with myself ahead of time, because I could see just how easily it would be to succumb to his charms. Especially with the way his mouth, his hands and his cock were so skilled at lowering each and every one of my defenses.
Nope. Not me. No way, no how.
It was a night to remember, but I needed to remember that it was just that. One night.
I dressed for work, more subdued today in lightweight black pants and a silky pink blouse paired with ballet flats. It would be a while before I could even look at heels without shuddering. But the comfort was a blessing because it allowed me to dive into work a full hour before Eric arrived. Which meant I’d had time to check his email and mine, and sort them by priority. It was easy, mindless work that made Eric’s life—and mine—easier.
“Great job last night, Becca. Everyone was so impressed with the evening.” Eric flashed a genuine smile that made me wonder if maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten lucky last night.
“Thanks, boss. I’ll be in with coffee and email in a minute.”
“Now is better. I have a call to make in,” he glanced at his watch, “twenty minutes.”
I frowned because I kept his schedule and there was nothing about a phone call on his calendar. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” he snapped and disappeared into his office.
Okaaay. So maybe someone didn’t get laid last night. Whatever. I grabbed my tablet and a legal pad before following after him. “Okay boss, ready.” I sucked in a deep breath and went through all the emails that had come in since I last checked. Yesterday at five.
“Okay. Pull these contracts,” he said and handed me a sheet of paper. “Set up meetings with these three clients and I’ll have that coffee when you get a chance. But don’t interrupt my call.”
There was so much I could say about his attitude, but I did my best to remember that at work, Eric was my boss and not my cousin. And I couldn’t thump him over the head. As much as I wanted to.
“Got it.” I collected my papers and exited quickly. “Jerk.” That wasn’t really fair because he wasn’t a jerk, most of the time. But as I’d learned from other executive assistants, our job was to also play the role of whipping boy whenever our high-powered bosses needed one.
I grabbed his oversized mug from an appearance on a late night talk show and filled it with piping hot black coffee, adding a cube of sugar before setting it on the edge of his desk. “Thanks,” Eric grunted out just as I closed the door behind me.
The day went fast, almost too fast, and as I booked a private charter for the agency’s newest girl group, I remembered the other thing I needed to do today. Another silly way I’d tried to get back at Jackson once I realized who he was, now needed a quick reversal or risk a world of trouble. For me.
But just as I picked up the phone, Eric called for me. “Yes?”
“This coffee is cold,” he said as though I’d brought him a mug of iced coffee.
“Right.” It took two minutes to refill his mug and start another pot. I’d counted because I had less than an hour to put Jackson’s flight back to Los Angeles to rights, or risk Eric’s wrath. The second time I picked up the phone to call, Eric needed to dictate a letter. The third time he needed me to make lunch reservations for a potential new client.
By the time I picked up the phone the fourth time, it was ten minutes past his take-off time. Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have done it. The auction had been enough payback. And after the night we spent together, it just felt mean. And I was out of time.
Jackson’s day was about to get a lot worse and it was all my fault. He would probably call Eric and I’d be in big trouble.
“Becca, can you come in here a second?” He was being courteous, which wasn’t completely out of the norm, but considering his gruff demeanor earlier, it was a shock.
Instead of answering, I stood and smoothed the pink shirt where it had bunched at the waist. I pushed his door open with a hesitant lilt to my voice. “What do you need, boss?”
He smirked and I knew something was up. “Do you know anything about Jackson’s flight schedule being changed at the last minute?”
I blinked, looking more innocent than I’d ever looked in my life. Even when I was a baby. “No clue. Does he need help rearranging things?”
Eric let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Give it up, Becca, we both know it was you. And Jackson is pissed. His whole schedule is off.”
My shoulders dropped and I bowed my head. “Shit.” I sat and told Eric all about how he stole my parking spot and what he’d said. “So when I spotted him talking to you, I put two and two together, and thought a little payback was in order.” My head dropped back and I blew out a long, frustrated breath. “It’s too late to fix it. I’ve been trying all morning.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something Becca. You always do.”
Yeah, that’s me. Becca who always thinks of everything. For everyone.
Jackson
“I’ve had to move some things around, so I’ll be out here for a few more days. It’ll give me a chance to check on some of the productions going on. I want you to send Lyle down to Atlanta to deal with the problems on Cheyenne’s record and call me if you need anything.” I waited patiently and listened as one of my assistants jotted down every word I said. “You got everything?”
“Yes sir. Is there anything else?”
“Not right now. But, I need you to watch over things while I’m gone. Keep me in the loop,” I told him and ended the call with an amused smirk.
Becca. I didn’t need any proof to know she’d switched around my flight and screwed up my schedule for the week. I should be pissed off that she would go so far over a stupid parking spot, but I wasn’t.
Maybe I would be upset, if I could get the scent of her off my skin, or if I could forget the way she clung to me in
passion, squeezed my cock in the vise of her pussy, and the sound of her whimpering my name as she came all over my dick. Yeah, Becca had given me one hot night of sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about the little minx.
And since I was staying in New York for a few more days, I knew exactly how I wanted to spend those days. I picked up my phone again. “Eric, how can I get in touch with your lovely assistant?”
He groaned and I could hear the creak of his office chair. “My cousin, you mean?”
Shit. I had forgotten Aaron’s reminder about that. “Are they mutually exclusive?” I knew I was being a smart-ass, but if I acted any other way that would be like telling Eric he had a say in what happened between me and Becca.
“No,” he sighed and I could see him pinching the bridge of his nose, trying for patience. “But if you’re going to yell at her or make her cry, then you will have to deal with me.”
“Fair enough, and for the record, I have no intention of making her cry.” Unless it was crying out my name while I made her come over and over again. But I have restraint, and a strong survival instinct, so I kept those thoughts to myself.
“Yeah, and what are your intentions, Jackson?”
“To get to know Becca. She intrigues me and I want to know more. Is that a problem?” Not that I gave a damn what Eric thought. He was my friend, but Becca was a grown woman and she didn’t need anyone making decisions for her.
“Not if it’s not a problem for Becca.” He sighed as though whatever he said next went against his better judgment. “She’ll be down at The Rattlesnake café. It’s in a brick building. It’s a few blocks away from here but I don’t know the address,” he said and abruptly ended the call.
I slid the phone into my pocket and I got ready to leave the airstrip. The limo was still here because they had excellent customer service and didn’t leave until the plane was in the sky and headed to its next stop. I gave the driver the name of the café and we merged into traffic that was worse than LA on its worst day. The city was always congested and when I lived in NY many years ago, I learned there was nowhere you could live to make traffic less of a nuisance. One fender bender, and you’d end up stuck for hours. Or more. But with a driver it became just a mild inconvenience.
Daddies & Nannies: A Contemporary Romance Boxset Page 41
