Page 40 of Heartless Boss
“You get to use me, and I get to use you.” His tone is low.
So he’s admitting to me that all I am is a screw to him, that once this is over he can walk away from this—us.
“What? When we’re done sleeping with each other you’re going to ghost me?”
“Two things wrong with your statement.” He stares at my vagina like he’s ready to devour it like a meal. “One, despite popular belief I don’t ghost women. I tell them not to get attached. When they do, then I disappear. I wouldn’t do that to you. I care about you way too much. More than I should.”
He shoves two fingers inside me, and I shudder, closing my eyes as he strokes me three times and uses his thumb to rub my clit gently.
“G-Gunner,” I say breathlessly. My sex is hungry for his erection and thirsty for his cum.
After the fourth stroke, an orgasm courses through my sex and shoots down to my feet. It cuts through me so deep my knees buckle, and I rest my hands on his shoulders. And it reminds me I’ve never come so hard in my life.
When he pulls out his glistening fingers, he licks them clean like I’m his favorite drink. “Fuck. Your pussy tastes like red sangria. Sweet and fruity.”
I feel light-headed and dizzy like I’m the one who is drunk. When I glance between his legs, his erection hardens even more against his denim jeans. I want it. I. Want. It.
“Two, I prefer the term fucking. Sleeping together sounds like boring, fluff-the-pillow sex.”
Even though his offer is tempting, I can’t do it. I’m the one who would end up with the broken heart and be left with the broken pieces.
Coming out of my post-orgasm haze, I pull my panties over my hips, yank down my gown, and sit on the couch next to him.
Jeez, what was I thinking letting him touch me like this? What is wrong with me? This is bad. So bad.
“No, Gunner.” I run my toes through the blue wool carpet, keeping my head down.
“Why not?” His voice is husky and smooth. When he tilts my chin toward him, I smell myself on his fingers.
Because I can’t risk getting hurt by you. I need more than a dirty screw, I want to say, but I’m not brave enough to utter those words. “I don’t want to.” I yank strands of hair from my bun and twirl it around my finger. “You need to leave.”
I don’t want him to leave, but if he doesn’t I might do something I’ll hate myself for in the morning.
I wrap my arms around myself. I don’t know how I let it get this far between us. For heaven’s sake, I let him finger me—and for a split second, I almost lost all my common sense.
Nope, never again.
He pushes himself off the couch and strides toward the door; I follow him to make sure it closes this time.
He stops in front of the door; he turns around to face me, cupping my face, and stroking his thumb against my cheek. His eyes swim with passion and lust.
If I wasn’t certain before that I wanted to kiss him, I’m certain now. I want his kisses and I want him to mark me like I’m his. I want the sex he promises, and I want to feel his tortured soul. He leans closer, brushing his lips against mine, and I whimper against his mouth.
Gunner is my weakness, and he knows it. It’s why he won’t leave me alone. He knows I wanted him nine years ago. We both know I’m going to cave sooner or later.
Finally, he lets go of my cheeks. My shoulders slump, and my heart begs for him.
As the door clicks when he shuts it, I sag against the wall.
If the sheep keeps hanging around with the wolf, it’s bound to get devoured.
Chapter Thirteen
Gia
Ieat my ham pizza at a square table in the corner of an expensive restaurant inside the hotel. My gaze clings to the people strolling in and out of the door. Chatter fills the restaurant. As I bite into the pizza, I feel sauce smearing my cheek. I take a napkin from the holder to wipe my face. The ham is overcooked and the tomato sauce is dry. This food sucks. Twenty bucks for this? I want my money back and an apology for being served this garbage.
When Gunner strides through the door, my cheeks flame and my heart squeezes in anticipation. He’s wearing a gray custom suit with a black tie. I was hoping I wasn’t going to see him until it was time to meet with Oliver tonight. That way we wouldn’t have to talk about what happened last night. How he made me come. Hopefully, he was so drunk last night he won’t remember. That way I don’t have to feel embarrassed when I speak to him.
