When she turns sideways to try to pull on the door handle, I lean forward, pressing my palm to the door to shut it again, which means the front of my body is flush against the side of hers, her face is a breath away from mine. My lips are nearly touching her ear when I tell her, “Ten minutes alone with me, and I bet I could have you so wet that stick up your ass would slide right out.”
“Get off me.” Her palm slams roughly against my stomach, pushing me away from her hip and pressing all the way through my black hoodie and t-shirt underneath my cut until she hits my rigid abs. Her perfectly manicured nails may have been trying to dig into my flesh, but instead it starts to feel more like a curious caress. I hear her gasp as I bite back a moan of my own and wish I could see her eyes. But her face is lowered so I don’t catch them before she finally drops her hand and turns away, leaving me wanting more, wanting that delicate hand of hers to grab something lower.
Chapter Five
Madison
Holy shit.
What the hell just happened?
Did I really just go from freezing my ass off to sweltering hot because of a few naughty words whispered in my ear by an arrogant playboy?
Once I get my car cranked and the heat going, I half expect to look up and find Cannon still lurking around next to my window, thinking of his next line to try and get in my panties. But he’s already gone, nowhere in sight, which means I’ve been sitting here stunned for much longer than I planned.
What can I say? I’m not used to men affecting me like that, or in any way whatsoever, for that matter. I don’t know what my problem is. Cannon is no doubt very experienced in the art of seduction, saying whatever it takes to get a woman into his bed. I just wish I wasn’t imagining, for even a second, giving in to him.
Through college and law school, sex was nothing more than a requirement expected of me after a certain number of dates with the same man, sort of like a math equation – five dinners plus three movies at my place equals penis in vagina. It was always quick and to the point, usually without getting completely naked because I was eager to get it done and over with so that he would leave and I could get back to studying. The handful of men I was with preferred to always be on top or behind me, so those are the only two positions I’m familiar with. And oral, well, it was out of the question. It just seems too…personal and intimate to have it performed on me. And when it comes to putting my mouth on a man, ugh, the thought just makes me feel so slutty.
For some reason, I can’t help but think that the barista back in the coffee shop wouldn’t have batted an eye if Cannon had gone behind the counter and told her to get on her knees for him. Why I care, I have no earthly idea.
What I should be focused on is the campaign, the warning that my opponent may intend to get his hands dirty, and not on the way my hands felt pressed against Cannon’s washboard abs.
Taking a deep breath, I push those thoughts aside, put my car in gear, and grasp the wheel, my hands still somewhat shaky as I drive to the office.
Cannon
My balls are so heavy when I walk away from Madison that I may need a wheelbarrow to carry them. I can’t think straight. It’s been days since I got laid, so I obviously need a release. But it just doesn’t seem right with Hannah running around our house. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s knocked up by my brother that has me rethinking my promiscuous night life.
Part of me wants to go back to the coffee shop for a quickie with Connie. I know she’d be up for it, but then she’ll think a hard fuck is what I want anytime I come to get coffee and I’ll give in. Before long, we’ll be in some weird ass routine where I’ll have to get us both off first thing in the morning before I even have a cup of joe, and that shit just won’t fly. No routines. No expectations for me or the woman. Those are the two rules I live by to make sure nobody catches any fucking feelings, especially me.
The last time I was in love with a woman, she went off to college hundreds of miles up north and gave me an ultimatum – propose to her immediately if I wanted to stay together or break-up. My eighteen-year-old cocky self thought that Kimberly was just bluffing. She wasn’t, and neither was I when I refused to give her a diamond ring. I don’t let anyone tell me what to do except Roman, the president of the Savage Kings MC, so I sure as shit wasn’t going to be bullied into a marriage when I knew I wasn’t ready to settle down. Hell, I’ve started to think maybe I never will be.
Once I adjust my hard-on in my jeans, I hop in my SUV and drive back to the house, missing my bike and wishing for warmer weather.
As soon as I walk into the house, I start getting the third degree from my brother.
“How did it go?” Conrad asks over his shoulder from the kitchen where I find him making a sandwich. No, two, and I’m guessing the second one is
