Bad Boss (Irresistible Book 2) Page 2

  Oh my God. I was quiet for a second.

  “And which position did you like best?”

  Double oh my God! Holy shit, Sara. Nice one.

  “I liked the one where I had you bent over the sink so I could watch everything bounce in the mirror.” A leisurely smile curled his mouth. “But you straddling me to ride my cock was a very close second.”

  And… no words.

  Speechless was actually an understatement for what I was as I stood there, the elevator finally opening at the bar I was supposed to get out at. I almost burst into flames when two women walked in, saw us, and promptly walked back out with giggles to each other. They already knew what I had yet to fully process till the doors closed and the elevator continued up to the penthouse.

  “I think you missed your floor,” he said. God, six words had never sounded so suggestive.

  At least not until mine.

  “I guess I’ll go to yours.”

  A blur.

  A hot, breathless blur – it was the only way I could describe the trip from the elevator to the door.

  On no other night in the world would I be fine with my half-naked breasts being exposed in the middle of a hotel, but tonight, I was consumed – by the moment, the madness, by him. I didn’t even know his name, but I didn’t care. My pussy was throbbing without mercy for him, so at this particular moment, the only thing I cared about was getting this man naked and feeling his every hot, hard inch inside me.

  “So sweet.”

  His murmur in my mouth was a stark contrast to his touch as he shoved me against the door, pinning my arms to my sides. My body strained impatiently for him but he was taking his time with me, forcing my fingers to flex and curl as he licked a thick, wet line along the curve of my neck. He didn’t use the tip of his tongue – he used the flat of it, sending bolts of pleasure to every nerve ending in my body.

  Holy shit. His mouth curved as it felt every tremble of my reaction. He knew he was torturing me, and it made him go even slower, swirling his tongue on my skin as he pushed his pulsing erection against my belly. It was at once hot as hell and completely fucking unbearable.

  “Enough.”

  I shoved him hard, my stomach twisting with fear and excitement as he stood before me, eyes blazing.

  “Don’t tease me. I need you inside me already – please,” I panted, swallowing hard as his eyes fell to my heaving chest.

  It made me suddenly aware again that I was standing in just my black lace bra and black jeans, in the open hall of one of the most expensive hotels in Manhattan. It made me feel as if the cups containing me were shrinking in size, squeezing my breasts uncomfortably tight with every short breath I took in.

  “Take it off first.”

  I exhaled. “What?”

  “I want to watch you play with your tits. Then we’ll go in.”

  I must have been crazy because I didn’t think twice about obliging. In fact, I didn’t even remember pushing the satin straps off my shoulders. I only came to as I arched my back off the door, reaching behind myself and undoing the clasp till my bra fell to the floor. I kicked it up at him. He caught it with his eyes still pinned to my breasts.

  “Play with your nipples.”

  I enjoyed the low groan that rumbled from his chest as I did – almost as much as I enjoyed the clear as day outline of his cock against his pants. He was a steel fucking rod, and every inch what I needed tonight.

  “God, just take me inside already,” I begged.

  This time he obliged.

  Entwined inside the room, I moaned from the anticipation alone. It was my first time in a hotel penthouse, but I didn’t care. I took no notice of any décor or furniture till he bent me over the back of the couch that faced the mirror, giving me a view of him removing his tie and his jacket before peeling first my jeans down my legs, then my panties.

  “Christ. It just gets better and better,” he murmured, that perfect frown pinching his brow as he tilted his head and ran his hand down the curve of my ass. He assessed it with a little jiggle. Then cupping the roundest part of its curve, he drew his palm back and spanked me so hard I hissed.

  “Fuck.”

  I gripped the couch, squeezing my eyes shut as he caressed my stinging skin. But once he’d fully rubbed the pain away, he spanked me again. I swallowed as my toes dug into the rug.

  “More.”

  “What was that?” His voice was hoarse.

  “I want more.”

  He didn’t wait. I gasped sharply as I got my wish, and my whimper grew to a moan as for the next few seconds, he administered blow after blow, spanking me so hard I could feel myself jiggle all over.

  “Mmmm… God!” The ragged sound left my mouth in a crescendo, drawing a growl from his lips as he grabbed a handful of my hair.

  “Christ, you’re getting me so fucking hard,” he snarled. “Look at how fucking sexy you are.”

  I looked up in the mirror and let out a small breath.

  Shit, Sara. I didn’t recognize this reflection. My hair was damp, my cheeks were flushed and there was satisfaction in my panting, open-mouthed smile. What have you done to me? I wanted to ask as I stared at him through the mirror, drinking him in. He was a mix of handsome and brutal as he tilted his head just so, sliding a long finger into my pussy.

  Fuck, oh fuck, that feels good.

  It felt even better as he leaned forward, deepening his push inside me as his free hand cupped my breast.

  “Squeeze them hard,” I whispered.

  “My pleasure.”

  I had to be shameless. I had to ask for what I wanted, because come morning, this would be over. I’d never see this man again, and I couldn’t have a single regret. So I let it all out with him.

  “More,” I breathed, moaning uncontrollably as he kneaded both my breasts with one hand, the other still playing with my pussy. He had two fingers pumping rapidly inside me now, and I couldn’t believe how wet I sounded. I couldn’t believe how incredibly good I felt.

  With a throaty cry, I pitched forward. His strong arms caught me as I went limp, and there was a beat of silence before I heard his gravelly whisper.

  “Did you just come all over my hand, beautiful?”

  “Yes,” I replied, panting in shock as he rubbed my own juices all over my breast, his hand slick and slippery on my skin. Holy shit. I rolled my head back on his shoulder, closing my eyes as I felt him rub his erection against my ass. “I should be wet enough that you’ll fit easily now,” I murmured.

  He paused.

  “What did you say?” He laughed as I turned around to gaze into his intense stare. For a moment, he took me in, his eyes trailing from my wet breasts to my parted lips. “And here I thought I couldn’t get any harder,” he muttered, grabbing his heavy buckle and giving three swift jerks to undo his belt.

  My pulse rose in anticipation.

  It spiked the moment his cock sprang free, prompting my mouth to fall open. I knew he was grinning as he watched me stare. His hand cupped my waist as I slid my palm under his shaft, my toes curling as I tried to wrap my fingers around his thickness. It felt surprisingly silky on my skin. I loved the warmth, the heaviness, and I reveled in the sound of his groan as I started to stroke.

  Just you wait, I bit my lip.

  I’d never particularly cared for giving head, but I wanted his cock in my mouth. I wanted to taste him – to be the one in control for a moment before I let him fuck me as he pleased on whatever surface he chose.

  “What are you doing?”

  I enjoyed the unbridled surprise in his voice as I knelt before him. Gripping his thick root, I brushed my lips against the smooth head of his cock, drawing back just in time to see his glistening pre-cum beading. From under my lashes, I peered up to see him breathing hard and unblinking, practically drunk off his view.

  God, yes.

  He was strong, undoubtedly someone of power in this city, but I had him at my mercy and waiting desperately for just the tip of my tongue.

/>   “Do it,” he rasped, his urgency palpable in his grip on my hair. “Suck on it. Fucking hell, please,” he hissed. “Let me feel your beautiful mouth on my cock.”

  Satisfied, I drew my tongue over his pulsing tip, swirling it around and drawing out the sexiest groan from the pit of his throat.

  I heard it just a second before the front door of the room exploded wide open.

  “Oh my God!”

  The shriek that pierced my ears came from my own mouth, and it was followed by his growl of, “Motherfucker!” at the door.

  Omigod.

  What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, I thought as I launched toward my clothes strewn over all parts of the floor.

  Through the absolute chaos of shouting, I gathered that our intruder was a friend of his, but I still wasn’t sticking around. Half naked with my pussy drenched and my lips still tingling from the taste of cock, the last thing I wanted was an audience. I was hot and humiliated, and within seconds, I was out the fucking door.

  3

  JULIAN

  I pretended to watch the game as I sat at the back of my suite behind home plate. As far as I could tell, no one knew I was seething. I gave a nod and a clap at the top of the fifth, when we got out of a bases loaded, no-out jam. I posed for a few pictures and had a full conversation with my President of Baseball Operations. But I wasn’t actually paying attention to any of these things.

  My focus was entirely on the idiot brothers kicked back in their seats, shoes off and flirting with girls half their age like we weren’t in the midst of a meeting they requested.

  Breathe the fuck in. Breathe the fuck out.

  Think numbers.

  Billionaire’s meditation.

  That could be the name of this game. I forced myself to play it whenever I dealt with clients or partners who wasted my time. Instead of calling off all negotiations and telling everyone to fuck themselves, I told myself to breathe and calculated how much of my fortune was amassed by maintaining relationships with people I despised.

  The answer was a lot.

  And this evening, the answer was getting me through my meeting with Turner and Carter Roth. The California-bred trust fund babies had been semi-professional surfers as recently as three years ago. They had no detectable traces of common sense, discretion or business savvy, but since the passing of their father three months ago, they’d inherited seven billion dollars each and full control of Roth Entertainment Group, the world’s leading sports and entertainment presenter. They were behind everything from the world’s biggest boxing matches to rock concerts and tours, and they had no idea how powerful they were.

  Thankfully, I did.

  The downside was that I had a small window of time to strike a deal with them, which made every meeting increasingly urgent. And unfortunately, while we’d had four in person thus far, they pretty much all ended up like this – derailed by the sight of any moderately attractive face paired with long enough legs.

  “Hey, Hoult,” Turner called over his shoulder. “I got a pretty girl who wants to say hi.”

  I had just been burning holes in the back of his stupid head, but the moment he twisted around in his seat, my glare transitioned into something placid and easy.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah – listen, it’s her twentieth birthday today and it’s also her first time at Empire Stadium,” he said, wagging his brow and nodding at the leggy blonde to his left. She wore two braids under her Empires cap and a kid’s sized jersey as a dress. “Don’t you, uh… don’t you think she should get a nice tour from the owner of the American League champs? A nice, personal tour?” Turner threw in a wink, as if he’d been so subtle just now that I might need an extra hint to catch his drift. I offered the bright-eyed girl an almost-smile before looking back to him.

  “You know, I did just have a thought.”

  His eyebrows jumped high. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I paused till I had his full attention. “I was thinking we should take a trip out to the Biarritz property. You could get an in-person look at our clientele and all the improvements we’ve made since the – ”

  “Ah, fuck, you’re talking business.” Turner winced and shook it off like I’d just tricked him into holding a pile of dog shit. “Jesus, man. I got excited for a second. I thought you were about to suggest we do some blow.”

  “This is a family ballpark,” I said. “You fucking animal,” I had to add with irritation. Then I made sure to laugh. As long as I laughed, apparently, I could say anything. It was just taken as classic ball busting.

  “Alright, easy. This guy here,” Turner chortled. “So, fine. No blow. But will you please be a gentleman and take…” He trailed off and eyed the blonde.

  “Hayley,” she supplied.

  “Hayley. Will you please take Hayley for a tour around the ballpark while I talk to…” He squinted at the girl in the chair to his right.

  “Cass.”

  “Cass,” Turner groaned skyward. “How could I forget? Cass with the ass,” he growled, smoothing a hand over her thighs. Then with his eyes back to me, he lowered his voice. “Give me twenty minutes tops. Then you, me and the kid will get back to work.”

  By the kid, he meant his brother, Carter, who had been in the bathroom with Hayley’s friend for about ten minutes now. I blamed him for all of this. I had actually done a decent job of keeping Turner on topic about purchasing my resort till Carter went off with a girl. At that point, all hope was lost. As the older of the two, Turner was never to be outdone, and if the kid managed to close, then Turner had to as well.

  Nodding at the blonde, I had her walk ahead of me out the suite. “Twenty minutes,” I repeated to Turner.

  “Maybe thirty.”

  “Fifteen now,” I said, hearing his snort before I walked out.

  “Who’s that?” Emmett asked as I deposited the pigtailed blonde in his suite. It was a short walk from mine but a stark contrast. Despite the game, there was usually music blaring and the tables were littered with beer, wings and giant platters of sashimi. For the low-carb girls, Emmett would say, since he rarely attended a game without at least two or three model-looking things in tow.

  Standing at the back of the suite, we overlooked both the game and the antics of his unique social circle. My younger brother’s friends ranged from lawyers to athletes to unemployed rich kids but they all had one thing in common: an affinity for drinking every night of the week.

  “Her name is Hayley,” I answered Emmett’s question, watching Hayley instantly mingle with his friends. “I don’t actually know her.”

  “Didn’t think so. Let me guess – you’re babysitting her for one of the Roths.”

  “Bingo.”

  Emmett snorted, twisting his baseball cap to the back and taking a swig of his beer. “I’d say forget them at this point but fuck, do those assholes have everything you need. And all that power just fell into their laps. They don’t even know what to do with it.”

  “I’d prefer you not remind me.”

  “Alright, let’s change the subject.” His pause was deliberately short. “Oh, wait, there’s no other subject with you besides work. Right?” I didn’t say anything because there was no point in correcting him. That, and I could sense a certain topic coming up that I had no interest in discussing. “Except…”

  “Don’t.”

  “There is a topic we still haven’t gotten the chance to clear up yet.”

  “Drop it, Emmett.”

  “Come on, dude. I need an explanation. Who was she? How’d you meet her? I’ve never seen you get so upset over a girl before.”

  I dragged my palm over my jaw and grumbled under my breath. “I wasn’t upset over a girl. I was upset that you burst into the room while I was clearly in the middle of something with her.”

  I didn’t want to think about it, but Christ, that night last week had been surreal. I’d been with my fair share of beautiful women, but the brunette I met Thursday night at the hotel had my dick half-ha
rd even before I heard her talk about wanting to be pinned down and fucked senseless. Everything from her perfect tits to her nervous laugh made my dick jump. She was the sexual fantasy I never knew I had, and to say I was pissed I didn’t get to finish my night with her was a gross, incredibly offensive understatement.

  Great.

  Now I was thinking about her.

  “I can tell you’re thinking about her.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “What?”

  I looked at my brother. “I almost admire your nerve to singlehandedly fuck up my night then taunt me about it.”

  “Are you mad at me or are you mad you’re not over it yet?”

  “Both.”

  “Christ, J.” Emmett’s mouth was stuffed with pizza as he laughed. “It’s not the craziest thing in the world if you think about a girl for more than one night.”

  I don’t know. Five days later and I still hadn’t jerked off to any thought but her.

  “Take it easy, brother. This just means you’re human for once. Besides, it’s New York. It’s a small city. You’ll run into her again.”

  “It’s the fourth largest city in the world, but I appreciate your ability to always look on the bright side.” I handed him my beer. “I should get back to my suite.”

  “Yeah, why not hurry up and wait. You’re gonna get back there just in time to hear the Roths face-fucking twenty-year-old girls in the bathroom.”

  I grimaced. “Thank you for your colorful phrasing. And for putting that image in my head.”

  “Anytime. Now sit your ass down and watch this game with me. You own this damned team, you might as well try to care about them like you actually did when we were kids.”

  I shot him the look I generally did when I was getting thoroughly tired of his shit. Still, I took a seat and caught the last few outs before the seventh inning stretch, and as the customary rendition of “God Bless America” rang out, my mind drifted off.

  I tugged on my lip.

  God bless those fucking curves.

  Thanks to Emmett, I was back to that dangerous rabbit hole of thinking about my mystery brunette from my night at the hotel. God bless those curves and the way those full tits jiggled when I spanked that perfect ass over the couch. Reliving the memory of her pink tongue on the tip of my dick was enough to get me both rock hard and pissed off, because I hadn’t even gotten her name.