Now Or Never (Irresistible 5)

Stunned, I nodded, and for the eternity that was the next few seconds, our gazes remained locked. But then he shut the door and as soon as he did, the car took off, leaving me squirming in the backseat and unable to string together a coherent thought besides the same three words.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

9

IAIN

My dick had been in a state of torture since I woke up at 5AM, but like a true masochist, I scheduled double my usual number of meetings for the day.

And to the surprise of no one at my office, I breezed through every one of them.

I’d met with the front office of the New York Empires to discuss a potential trade for a client. Finalized endorsement deals for two others. I’d attended presentations by my MIT research team on new strategies for player development, and scattered in between it all were a few dozen video calls with owners, GMs and other clients.

From the perspective of my colleagues, I was pushing myself like I was known to. Striving for excellence as usual.

But in reality, of course, I was keeping myself as distracted as humanly possible. Packing in every obligation I could think of, because in all truthfulness I had only one thing on my mind.

And that was fucking Holland Maxwell.

Despite how it looked on the outside, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. About last night. What the hell I’d gotten myself into.

The fact that she’d even snuck into that party.

Spotting her at her cocktailing gig on Saturday had most definitely been a shock, but last night had been a different kind entirely, because last night she’d specifically planned to find me. To put me through hell. She’d come to that club just for me, dressed up just for me, and the fact that she looked like such a perfect, cock-teasing angel in that little white dress drove me halfway insane.

And that was before she decided to get hammered looking like that. Before she forced me to watch as she grinded with some stranger, and let him rub his dirty hands all over her body.

Easy.

I drew my palm across my jaw as I strode down the busy hall toward my office, willing my blood from rushing south as I remembered the way Holland looked while dancing last night.

Instead of walking away like I knew I should’ve, I’d planted myself at that

bar and fervidly watched as her dewy cheeks flushed to that perfect shade of pink. As her already pouty lips swelled even fuller, parting lightly as she closed her eyes and let the music move through her body. Those obscenely plump, pushed-up tits glistened with a thin layer of sweat, and the harder she breathed, the more convinced I was that she might actually pop out of her dress.

I couldn’t tear my eyes off of her. She had a single damp lock of blonde matted to the side of her pretty face, and when she laughed, she still did that thing where she stuck her tongue between her teeth just a little.

It was torture for me.

Torture like I never thought possible, because she looked so fucking sweet, and at the same time she was the epitome of sex. The type of living, breathing fantasy that would bring any man to his knees. For fuck’s sake, I still couldn’t believe that my best friend’s little sister had turned into this woman.

Nor could I believe how far I’d crossed the line with her last night.

It wasn’t as if I’d limited myself to our remarkably inappropriate conversation. I didn’t stop at asking her if she could handle my cock. I’d touched her body in every way I wasn’t supposed to, and the right thing to do this morning was to feel some kind of remorse. To take a step back and remind myself that I was older. That I should know a thousand times better.

But instead, I pictured her bouncing naked in my lap when I jacked off this morning. And then I reserved a suite at The Victorian Hotel for the express purpose of fucking her tonight.

“Mr. Thorn, your car to Teterboro will be here in fifteen minutes,” Erica said as I passed her desk on my way into the office. “Got time to take a call before then?”

“No, but put it through,” I said, shrugging off my jacket and draping it over the back of my couch before I took a seat at my desk.

Just as I relaxed against the leather, Erica called from outside.

“Adam Maxwell is on line one.”

My heart stopped for a beat.

Then another. And as I paused at the sound of his name, I swallowed, wondering for only half a second why my best friend was calling my office line instead of my cell.