My Cruel Lover (Wicked Poison 3)

The water washes over him, and he moves the showerhead so it falls between us, then he grips my hips pulling my body closer.

“What if we don’t work?” I utter in a whisper, almost talking to myself.

“But what if we do?” he replies a lot louder, hands sliding down to my ass and lifting me until I wrap my hands around his neck and my legs around his body. “I think I’m going to fire you anyway.”

“What? Why?” I ask, shocked.

He chuckles and kisses my neck. “Rylee can give you another position. Having you outside of my office, knowing I can call you in and bend you over my desk anytime I want, is far too tempting. It’s best I remove that temptation.”

I push on his chest, which is hard considering he has me held up against the wall. “If you fire me, you will not get a piece of this ass ever again. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nods, then moves me, so I’m in the perfect spot for him.

“I’ve met your mother already. Do I have to come? I have so much I need to do.”

“Yes, I know, but you haven’t met her with me. And I want to introduce you as my girlfriend. And what do you have to do?” he asks, making my eyes shut as I slide down on him.

I completely forget what he said.

Until he snaps at me, that is.

“Jacinta.” My eyes snap open, and Beckham is nibbling on his bottom lip. It pops out before he speaks again. “What do you have to do?”

“I need to clean and get groceries.”

“I’ll handle it. We can do groceries on the way home.”

I go to speak, but he shakes his head. “Now shut up, so I can fuck you.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Makes me scream.

Smacks my ass.

Tries to make me call him ‘daddy.’

And then brings me to that land of pure fucking pleasure.

Beckham has a marvelous cock, no doubt about that.

Chapter 26

Beckham

Jacinta’s fidgeting. I smack her hand away, and she laughs.

“You look beautiful.”

“Did you really call your cleaner?” she asks, her laugh gone now as we walk up the steps of my parents’ house, where she’s never been before.

“Yes. She’s on her way. I pay her generously and have had her for years. She’s good. I trust her implicitly.”

“I don’t need a cleaner.”

“Your shower says otherwise.” I smirk.

She blushes.

“That’s your fault. I told you the shower wasn’t going to be big enough.”

“I’ll buy you new soap, washes, and whatever else I might have broken.” I may have accidentally knocked them over and spilled them all over her floor. Her bathroom is incredibly small. It’s like a closet in comparison to mine.

And I had plans to fuck her, so nothing else mattered at the time. Therefore the mess I left behind was probably more than it should have been. Still, my cleaner will make it sparkle before we return.

“It makes me uncomfortable when you throw around your offers.”

I pause and turn to her. “What offers?”

Her perfect brows pinch together. “Things that cost money. I know you’re used to it, but I’m not. Please stop offering things, especially stuff that costs money I don’t have,” she says, as the front door opens.

My mother is standing there. Her gaze falls to Jacinta. She assesses her, then moves back to me. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone, Beckham. You know better than that.”

Ha.

She thinks she can play me like she does the girls. Well, she should know better than that. I stopped being manipulated by her a long time ago.

“Nonsense. I don’t need to inform you. We both know you have more than enough food. Now, let me introduce you to Jacinta. No rude comments or talking down to her. I am not Rylee. I will straight up leave and not come back.”

My mother forces a smile. “I’m not rude,” she snaps, then looks at Jacinta. “Your son? He’s not here?”

“No, he’s with his grandfather today.”

“Wonderful. The girls are inside already.” My mother steps back to let us enter, and I kiss her on the forehead as I show Jacinta to the living room. Rylee smiles and offers her a drink straight away as Rhianna smirks, simply watching me.

“I’ll be back,” I lean down and tell Jacinta.

She nods and takes the seat next to Rylee as I walk out. I find my mother opening a bottle of wine as I enter the kitchen. “I love her.”

My mother’s brows rise at my confession. “Do you, though?” she questions.

“I do. I see her differently than I have ever seen a woman in my life. I think about her all the time. She is my first thought each morning and my last every night.”

“It could be infatuat—” my mother attempts to say before I cut her off.

“It’s not.”

“She’s below you, you know that. Surely, you know that?” She lifts her glass of wine and takes a few sips. “A kid. No house. Been married. Gosh, what else is there?”