“Not accurate. I want to eat your ass all night until the only thing you remember is my name.”
Her skirt inches up. She’s warm through the thin lace of her panties.
“I won’t tell your manager you have my come spilling out of your pussy. You’re so wet, Jenna.” I groan. “Youwant this.” She moans softly against my mouth, her tongue flicking against my lips when I kiss her.
“Come up to my bed. Let me eat you out. Let me taste your pussy.”
Her eyes are closed, the pleasure warring with fear on her face.
“If I go in there, I know I’ll end up sleeping with you,” she whispers.
I scatter soft kisses down her chest to her tits, kneeling down so I can press my face to the soft V between her thighs.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I fall in love with the guys I sleep with, so yeah.”
I look up at her. Stand up and cup her face. “Fall in love with me,” I whisper. “Make me the center of your universe. I dare you.”
Her chin wobbles, and her eyes fill with tears. She finally wrenches away from me.
“I’ll never love you.”
I don’t chase after her, just let her run away.
In the dark, I pour another drink. Her stupid little dog is asleep on its back on the sofa in my study, snoring as I contemplate which of her exes I want to publicly humiliate first.
Something about the drinking too much, her admission, and the way she felt twisting under me is making me crazy.
Now she’s down there sleeping in my car.
Vulnerable…
Waiting…
I want to make her fall in love with me.
27
JENNA
“What is wrong with you?” I scold my reflection in the car’s rearview mirror.
I made out with my client. This is a disaster. I’m screwed.
Well, not literally—as much as I secretly want it. It was a kiss. Well, not just one but a few kisses. They can all be summarized into one kiss.
I fish around for a wet wipe, but I left all my stuff in McCarthy’s living room.
There’s no way he actually wants to take me to his bed. He’s just mad about the men I dated—two of whom are de facto family members, so that’s a new low for Jenna.
He’s doing it to yank my chain. He cares only about winning. Everything else is collateral damage—including me.
The way his hand felt between my legs, his mouth on my nipple, that deep voice saying, “When was the last time you had a man touch your clit…”
Ithasbeen a while.
My panties are soaked. The inside of the car isn’t cold, but it’s not exactly warm either.
