Plus, I could’ve told her what a sorry excuse for a human her dad was anyway.
I’ve known that my entire life.
It’s a shame it’s taken her nearly two decades to uncover the awful truth about his sorry ass.
Without saying a word, I dip into my hidden liquor cabinet, grabbing two shot glasses and a half-empty bottle of cinnamon whiskey because I love when her mouth is both hot and sweet and this woman needs to relax if she plans to enjoy herself.
“Here,” I hand her a shot. “You need this.”
She hesitates before accepting it.
“Trust me. It’ll take the edge off.” I toss mine down. It burns, but it’s a burn I’ve gotten used to over past couple of summers.
She coughs. Typical newbie. But she hands me the shot glass. “One more.”
“You sure?” I lift a brow.
Sheridan nods toward the bottle, hands on her hips. She didn’t just come here to get fucked, she came here to get fucked up—and I’m here for it.
“I’ve never seen you so worked up before.” I pass her the new shot. “It’s pretty hot …”
She rolls her eyes, shoots the whiskey, and yanks her t-shirt over her head.
“Oh, so we’re doing this?” I tease. “This girl doesn’t want to mess around.”
“So we’re clear,” she says. “I think you’re an asshole. But you’re really good in bed and that’s the only reason I’m here.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” I already know …
Moving in, she grabs me by the waist of my jeans and pulls me close before undoing the fly and shoving them down. A second later, she’s on her knees, my cock growing inside her mouth as she swallows my length.
“Good god, woman.” I moan as she sucks harder. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’ll fucking take it.”
I let her take me to the edge before pulling out, and then I lead her to my bed. “As hot as that was, I very much prefer to be in control. Take off the rest of your clothes.”
Eyes locked on mine, she slides off her lace bra before shoving her leggings and panties down her long legs. Tossing them aside, she moves to the center of my king-sized bed and waits.
Yanking off my t-shirt and dropping it to the floor, I grab a rubber from my nightstand.
“Spread your legs,” I say.
She leans back, exposing herself, but it’s not enough.
“More.” I rip the foil packet with my teeth. “Show me how much you want this.”
The soft-sweet scent of her arousal fills the air, mixing with a hint of her perfume. Positioning myself between her thighs, I run the tip of my tongue down her seam before kissing her clit.
“My god, you’re so wet,” I whisper, blowing a warm breath on her pussy before giving it another lick. “You want me to fuck you?”
She squirms, biting her lower lip, and nodding.
Sliding the rubber down my shaft, I tease her pussy with my tip, pressing against her just enough to leave her in aching anticipation.
Sheridan moans, and I silence her with a kiss. “You have to keep it down.”
We don’t have the house to ourselves tonight. It’s late, and while the odds are my father is passed out cold from his nightly Scotch, I don’t want to risk any unnecessary interruptions.
Shoving my cock inside her, I fill her to the hilt. She exhales, her entire body releasing one concerted shiver. Plunging inside her again and again, I tease her mouth with mine. With her head buried against my shoulder, she stifles a moan as I drive harder, deeper into her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers.
So I don’t.
I fuck her until we both come, her hips writhing desperately beneath me as my balls tighten and empty.
When it’s over, we lie tangled in the sticky, sweaty mess we’ve created, breathless and speechless.
She gets up first, ducking into my bathroom to clean up. And when she emerges, she wastes no time getting dressed.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt used in my entire life—until now.
“You don’t have to leave yet.” I mourn her curves as they disappear behind her t-shirt and leggings.
“I have to get home before my parents notice I’m gone.” She steps into her sandals.
“You’re an adult, what are they going to do?”
“They will literally send out a search party if they can’t find me.” She rolls her eyes. “And if they see my car here, trust me, it won’t be good …”
Yeah. It won’t be good for them.
My father is untouchable. No one’s ever successfully retaliated against him in any way. The Roses have nothing on him.
“You can park in one of our garage stalls,” I say. We have eight and one just so happens to be empty as my father is having his Rolls serviced.
“Ha. Then what? We throw on a movie and pop some popcorn and hang for the night? Let’s not pretend this is something it isn’t. You called. I came. We both got what we wanted.”