Sacked (The New York Nighthawks 1)

“Damn, I love you,” I mumbled against her lips. My hands slid underneath her shirt to span around her waist, and I angled my head to deepen the kiss.

“I love you, too,” she breathed as she leaned back and grabbed the hem of my T-shirt. She pushed the material up, and I helped her take it off before resuming my exploration of her mouth with my tongue.

Naomi’s soft hands traveled over my chest and up to my shoulders, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My fingers deftly worked the clasp on her bra, and when it gave way, I cupped her full, round tits in my palms.

My cock was practically weeping with the need to be inside her, pressing urgently against her ass. Naomi wiggled, and I growled in warning. She was always trying to push me past my breaking point, the little minx.

Our perfect moment was suddenly ruined by the ringing of the doorbell. “Fuck,” I groaned as I dropped my head into the crook of her neck.

Naomi giggled and moved to get off my lap, but I quickly enveloped her in my arms, keeping her right where she was. “Maybe if we’re really quiet and don’t move, they’ll go away,” I suggested, only half joking.

However, the bell rang again, and our unwelcome visitor banged on the door. Then I noticed my phone vibrating on the desktop and picked it up. “Your brother has the worst fucking timing,” I grunted in annoyance. My irritation flared into worry when I realized he’d called and texted over a dozen times.

After quickly redoing the clasp on Naomi’s bra, I lifted her off my lap. Her skin was flushed, her lips pink and swollen, and she had a dazed expression on her face. I debated asking her to wait in my office because I didn’t want anyone else seeing her looking as though she’d just been fucked. But one thing I’d learned about my sweet girl, there was a fire under the surface. She could be stubborn as fuck. Especially when a situation threatened her family or me.

Sighing, I stood and laced our fingers together, then we walked out to the foyer together to answer the door.

When I opened it, Nixon rushed inside, his expression harried and his hair a mess, likely from running his fingers through it. “Finally. Where the fuck have you two—”

He stopped and took in our appearance, then cringed, his face turning a little green. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

If he hadn’t seemed so concerned about something, I would have laughed at his reaction.

The door was still ajar, and it suddenly opened wide as someone else rushed into the house. A petite redhead went straight for Naomi and threw her arms around her. “Are you okay?”

Naomi hugged Ember back and mumbled, “Okay? What the heck is going on?”

“You haven’t seen the new rumor flying around on social media?” Nixon asked. I noticed his eyes were glued to Ember, and he looked extremely unhappy to see her. Naomi had mentioned that these two were always at odds, though she had no idea why.

Ember stepped back and glanced at me before her eyes went back to Naomi. Then she froze for a second, and her gaze swung back my way. “Wow,” she breathed.

Naomi frowned at me, her eyes sweeping over my bare, sculpted chest, then at her friend who was openly gawking, and back to me. “Maybe you should go get a shirt,” she muttered.

I couldn’t help grinning at her possessive attitude. It was nice to see that she was as territorial over me as I was of her. Knowing how I’d feel if the situation was reversed, I didn’t argue. I placed a quick kiss on her forehead, then stalked to my office where I picked up my shirt off the floor and put it back on before returning to the group.

The front door was shut, and Ember was pacing in front of it while Nixon was messing with his phone.

“People are claiming you're pregnant and that you did it on purpose to trap Prentice,” Ember informed us.

Naomi scoffed. “That’s ridiculous! There’s no way I’m pregnant!”

Well aware that we’d never used a condom—not once—I sidled up to her and asked, “Are you sure?” Hope bloomed in my chest at the possibility that Naomi was carrying our child. If she wasn’t, I was going to spend as much time as possible making it happen. Not that I’d been slouching in that area—we spent most of our free time fucking like bunnies.

Naomi’s cheeks turned crimson, and she sputtered for a moment. “Um, I mean…I guess. W-We certainly never used, um”—she glanced at her brother with an apologetic expression before continuing—“protection.”

Nixon stuck his fingers in his ears. “La, la, la. I’m not listening. My sister does not have—” he broke off and gulped, looking a little green again.