Enforcer (Seattle Sharks 2) - Page 42


He paused when he opened it. “Do you trust me?”

A warm shiver danced across my skin just as it had when he’d first asked me. “Yes.”

“Then you’ll see.” He intertwined our fingers and guided me out the door.

After fifteen minutes of being kissed senseless outside Rory’s building, a black Cadillac Escalade pulled in front of us. Its headlights exposed the way our bodies were practically melded together, and I quickly put distance between us as if my parents had just walked in on me making out in my room.

“Dave has been my driver for years,” Rory said and opened the door to the third row of seats, deliberately putting a row of space between the driver and us.

“You always sit back here?” I slid in and buckled my seatbelt. What was he up to?

“It’s the best seat for us tonight.”

A rush of adrenaline soared through my blood as I gauged the distance between us and Dave the driver. There was no illusion of privacy except for the fact that he kept his eyes firmly planted in front of him.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, registering the devious glint in Rory’s eyes. “You’re not serious.”

Rory shifted to get closer to me. “You hired me to help you check off items on your list. I’m nothing if I don’t do my duty.” He teased me, slipping his tongue between my lips for a brief second before pulling back. The challenge was clear in his eyes, almost as clear as the hesitance as he waited to see if I took the bait or not.

“Dave,” I spoke up and found it incredible that he didn’t glance in his rearview to look me in the eye. “Will you drive us to my house please?” I rattled off the address though I knew he’d dropped Rory off before. The distance between our places would be just enough time.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Dave replied.

I turned my attention back to Rory who gazed at me with a shocked look. “You started this,” I reminded him with a wicked grin. I slipped my hand underneath his shirt, relishing the feel of his hard abs and smooth skin. Working lower, I managed to get my hand beneath the waist of his jeans. He was already on his way to a raging hard on, and my thighs clenched at the idea of him getting off with simple touches from me.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I scooted toward him until I could straddle his lap.

“Paige,” He groaned, looking over my shoulder. “Wait. I didn’t think this one through. It isn’t exactly safe.”

I tilted my head and re-plunged my hand down his pants. “That’s sweet. The good man in you worrying about me, but I’d like to speak with my bad boy, now, please.”

He nipped at my bottom lip.

“Unless he’s checked out of the game?” I stopped the stroking of his now fully hard cock.

Rory ran his hands up my thighs nestled on either side of him, sliding my dress up until it flared around his lap. “Oh, he’s here. Right. Here.” He accentuated the word with his fingers pressing expertly against my clit.

I hissed and moved my hips against his touch, the motion placing my breasts at the perfect angle for his mouth. He kissed the modest cleavage that my very innocent gray dress showed, and I leaned my lips to his ear. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before we reach my house. You think I can make you come before then?”

His eyes locked with mine. “Have I ever lost a challenge?”

“This will take number eight off the list right alongside number two.” Anticipation flared in my chest with the challenge. “And nothing is impossible, Rory.” Hell, the notorious player had fallen for me. And I had fallen right back.

I withdrew my hand long enough to unbutton and unzip his jeans, and he shifted in his seat to wiggle them down slightly. I then pushed his hand away from working over my clit, instantly missing the pressure, but needing more.

His breath hitched as his eyes followed my hand, touching myself beneath my panties, coating my fingers in my warmth. I reclaimed his cock with my properly slicked hand, massaging it with a gliding ease. He groaned and arched his head back as I strengthened my grip, picking up the pace of my strokes.

“Try not to scream,” I whispered in his ear. “Don’t want to distract the third person in this ménage, your driver.” I glanced over my shoulder, finding Dave’s eyes still dutifully on the road. I enjoyed the power I had over Rory in the moment. The fact that I held him in pleasure-filled agony not ten feet from his driver. It was my turn to get him off in a place he least expected it—and since he said it would never happen, I only wanted to do it more.

He pulled on my hips in an attempt to settle my wetness over him, but I resisted, shaking my head. “Not yet,” I said and circled the tip of his cock with my thumb.

“Damn it, Red. Your scent. It’s all over me. I want it in my mouth.”

I contemplated the acrobatics of that request before dismissing it. The act of which, again, only seemed to turn him on more. I held on strong despite his thrusts against my hand and his near primal need to get inside me making my already steaming thighs hotter.

“How bad do you want it?” I asked against his lips, turning the tables on him. How many times had Rory made me speak my needs before he’d made me fly apart?

He jerked down on my hips but remained silent.

I circled the outside of my center with his tip, rewetting it. I was rewarded with a gentle bite on my lip.

“Say it, Rory. Or I will end it.” I demanded the words from him as he had me so many times already. The surge of control went straight to my head, and the tension low in my belly tightened, twisted, and knotted.

“Paige—” He groaned. “Now.”

Good enough for me. I released his cock and wrapped my arm around his neck. He plunged inside me as I bucked against him. He growled so loud I shoved my hand over his mouth, silencing him. The action made him thrust harder, and I clenched around him, his cock fitting so perfectly inside me. The friction against my walls pushed me toward the edge.

I jerked against him, rocking forward and back so hard it almost hurt, but the pleasure derived from each clash of our bodies far outweighed it. The events of the day—the worries and doubts and demands that hit us from all angles drifted away with each pump, replaced by nothing but need.

He grew harder, tightening in the already snug pace, and I locked eyes with him. The shock wasn’t hidden in his molten blues, and it made me fly apart.

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Seattle Sharks Romance
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