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“I suck at relationships. Didn’t you get that from this conversation?”
“You don’t suck at relationships because your family wants you to be an attorney and you want to be you, not one of them.”
“I was engaged and he slept with his secretary, or rather, fucked her right on top of his desk while inconveniently forgetting that I was coming by that night. So see? I suck at relationships.”
“He was a bastard that didn’t deserve you. That isn’t on you. How long ago was this?”
“Two years ago.”
“How long ago did you leave your legal career?”
“Two years ago. Am I on the stand being questioned?”
“He was the catalyst that changed you.”
“Yes,” she says solemnly. “I knew it was time to live for me.”
“He was an attorney,” I decide.
“Yes. He was.”
“And so the picture begins to reveal itself,” I say. “I have a stacked deck, don’t I?”
“Pretty much.” She reaches up and touches my face. “You’re good looking, rich from what I can tell, powerful in person and on camera, and you’re learning manners. You’re the perfect heartbreaker. That makes you a perfect one and done.”
“In other words, you want someone unattractive, with a small wallet, and no skills at pretty much anything. Is that right?”
“I guess I’ll just stay single,” she says. “What about you? Have you ever been married?”
“No,” I say. “I have not. My obsession with my career hasn’t exactly been conducive for relationships, but that’s not a problem for us, Cat.”
“Because I am one and—”
“My new obsession,” I say, shifting our bodies to roll her to her back, with me half on top of her. “From the moment I met you, Cat.”
“Because you thought you couldn’t have me,” she says. “Now you do. Now—”
“I want more.” My hand caresses up her waist to her breast and I lightly tease her nipple. She pants and arches her back, pressing against my hand as I cup her breast. “Remember that word, Cat,” I say. “More. I want more.” I kiss her, and there is this crazy tenderness I feel for her that I don’t understand, that I don’t feel with women. I fuck. I move on. But holy hell, as my tongue strokes hers, I savor the taste of her, so wickedly addictive and yet so sweet, somehow vulnerable, when she is everything but innocent.
I work the shirt over her head, and my mouth lowers to hers, but I don’t kiss her. I linger a breath, and two and three, from a touch. Her hand goes to my face, fingers curling on my jaw. “More is better achieved without your pants on. Please take them off.”
I’d laugh at her use of the word “please,” but I want her too fucking bad right now to do anything but feel that word in my groin. Fuck. Every moment since I met this woman, I have wanted her. And somehow she’s not a distraction from my world, but already a part of it. Maybe it’s her career that works for me. Maybe it’s her personality. Right now, it’s her fucking amazing breasts. I cup them and lick her nipples. She rewards me with these sweet, soft sounds that are so damn feminine and sexy that I want to bury myself inside her here and now. But then I’d miss the next sweet sound she makes just because I touch her, or lick her.
I lick a path down to her stomach, her fingers stabbing into my hair, her stomach trembling as I kiss it. And when I finally settle between her legs and blow on her clit, she grips my hair like she’s holding on for dear life, arching into me, to my mouth, to my fingers, all over again. I give her nub a tiny lick and trail it down her sex, my cock responding to the salty-sweet taste of her with a lockdown that has my balls so damn tight they ache. My hand goes under her sweet little ass and I suckle her nub now, sliding my fingers up and down her sex. Apparently, that’s the magic we’re both after. She gasps, jerks, and then starts to quake. Her orgasm is here, and so damn quickly that I know one thing for certain: No matter how tough and one and done she wants to play this, she isn’t any more done than I am.
I slip two fingers inside her, giving her spasming body something to hold on to until my cock finds its way to where my fingers are now. I ease her into that sweet spot that follows release, and my willpower is shot. I need to be inside her, now. I kiss her belly and she pushes to her elbows, and when her eyes meet mine, there is just a hint of that vulnerability in her stare. As if I’ve torn down some wall she didn’t intend to tear down and she’s not sure what to do about it and me. Perhaps she is thinking about how to run.
I decide to give her one of the many reasons to stay. I slide up her body, cup her head, and kiss her, letting her taste her on my lips. “Now I’m not just obsessed,” I say. “I’m addicted to how you taste, which means I won’t let you come that fast next time.” I leave her with that to occupy her thoughts, and push off the couch to grab the condom in my pocket before I step out of my pants and sit down on the couch beside Cat. But when I would roll on the condom, Cat is on her knees in front of me, her hand around my cock, and holy hell, I want her mouth on me, too.
She takes the condom from me, my cock jutting between us, thick and heavily veined with arousal. “Should I put it on now or after I find out what you taste like?” she asks.
“I’ll let you decide,” I say.
Her reply is to lick my cock and send a shock wave of bliss through my body. “More?” she asks.
“Please,” I say, without hesitation.
She laughs that sweet laugh again, and holy hell, she is everything: Smart. Funny. Sexy. I might be in love, especially since my cock is now in her mouth.
