Devil's Vengeance (Sydney Storm MC 3)

“Armchair sports are best watched in bed while balls deep in a sweet pussy, but I have been known to watch some motor racing or footy with the boys. A coldie in front of the telly is always a good thing on a Sunday afternoon.”

She moved her hand from my waist to my chest. “Just putting it out there that I’m not the kind of woman who shares my cock time with a bloody television, so don’t go getting any ideas that I’ll put up with you watching sport while we have sex.”

My dick twitched at her declaration. Mostly because her attempts at ordering me around got me hard, but also because that declaration told me she also planned for us to be something. I drank some of my coffee before saying, “I like the way you think. Sex first and then television.”

“Or maybe, just sex. Hours and hours of it. And no television.”

I grinned again. “Even fucking better.”

She finished her coffee and said, “Okay, bossman, I gotta leave.”

I stopped her as she took a step away from me. “Not until you agree to see me tonight.”

“The band always plays at Flirt on a Monday. We could hang out after.”

“What time do you start?”

“Eight tonight.”

“I’ll see you then.”

She planted another kiss on my lips, driving me crazy because I needed more than one quick kiss from her. When she pulled away, I said, “I’ll take you home.”

Surprise flickered over her face. “I was just gonna walk.”

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I frowned. “Fuck no.”

A slow smile crept across her face as she looped her hands around my neck. “In that case, I don’t have to leave so soon. I can stay for another half hour.”

My arms snaked around her so I could take hold of her ass. Lifting her, I turned and deposited her on the kitchen counter. “Thank fuck, because I’ve got at least half-an-hour worth of things I wanna do to you before I let you go.” Without wasting another second, I dropped my mouth to hers. It was going to be the longest day on record while I counted down the hours to have these lips again.

10

Hailee

I yawned as Rachel rattled off the customer complaints we’d received last week. Monday mornings at work were always reserved for Rachel’s weekly rundown of the week ahead, plus a reflection on the past week. Sadly, her favourite thing seemed to be to berate each of us for our mistakes rather than to build us up by focusing more on our strengths. I was all for acknowledging where we could have done better, but I was a firm believer in motivating through encouragement.

“Are we interrupting your sleep, Hailee?” Rachel threw me a glare as I yawned.

I sat up straighter. “Sorry.” God, she irritated me lately. We used to have a great work relationship, but that was back when her love of belittling people hadn’t existed. Ever since her hubby left her, it was like she was a whole new person. And not a good one.

“If your side project is keeping you up at night and interfering with my business, you’ll need to decide which one you want to keep.”

I froze. Where the fuck had that come from? “My project has nothing to do with me yawning, Rachel.”

Three months ago, I’d started offering free massages to elderly people who couldn’t afford them. It was all done in my own time at night and on weekends. Leona had seen what I was doing and had offered some of her time also, and then other local masseuses had come on board, too. Within two months, I’d grown my group of helpers to twenty, and it had turned into a project where I spent a lot of time managing everyone involved. A local journalist had discovered what we were doing when his mother requested a massage, and he’d written a piece about us for the paper. The past month since that article had been published had been hectic. However, I’d worked hard not to let it interfere with my work.

Rachel continued glaring. “Yes, well I highly doubt that, Hailee. I think your commitment to this business has waned.”

Leona groaned next to me, and I kicked her under the table. The last thing she needed was to lose her job or hours because she supported me.

“What are you saying?” I asked. I needed to know if I was in jeopardy of losing my job.

Her eyes bored into mine as she said, “I think you need to reconsider your goals in life and decide if you want to pursue your charity massages or if you’d prefer to focus on building a career here.”

My chest squeezed with stress. I couldn’t afford to lose my job, but no way in hell was I giving up helping people. I wanted to stand and walk out, telling her she could shove her fucking job, but I bit my tongue. I’d try and string her along until I could find a new job, and then I’d take great delight in telling her what I thought. “Okay,” I bit out.