Page 3 of Play the Game
She moans.
I freeze and pull out immediately. “Fuck, no condom.”
Evan rolls her eyes like I just said the stupidest thing on the planet. “I’m on the pill. I’ve been tested, and you’re way too conscientious not to have been tested, so stop trying to bitch out and fuck me already.”
Sold.
I shove back inside her, gritting my teeth at the way her pussy squeezes me so perfectly as I bottom out, pleasure snaking up my spine, even as my brain rejects the wordperfectly. Nothing about me and Evan Rhodes and perfect should be anywhere near the same sentence.
And yet.
“I think fucking you raw in a conference room at the law firm where we both work is about as far from conscientious as it gets.”
“Less talking, more fucking,” she pants out, grinding her hips against me. “When you don’t talk, I can pretend you’re someone else.”
I laugh, sinking my teeth into the space between her shoulder and her neck, feeling a shiver work its way up her spine. “You may think you want to pretend I’m someone else, but your body seems to like me just fine.”
I pull out almost to the tip and thrust back in, fucking her in steady strokes that have her inner walls clenching around me, gasps falling from her lips. “You think I can’t feel your pussy sucking me in like it can’t get enough of my cock?” I grip herhips, working her over my dick as her hands pull my hair tighter, her thighs trembling where they clamp around my hips. “If only all the partners we work for could see you now. Perfect Evan Rhodes, shirt in tatters on the floor and skirt around her waist, getting fucked against a window like the filthy girl she really is.”
“I hate you,” she rasps, hips rolling against mine, meeting me stroke for stroke.
I pull out and ram back into her, setting a punishing pace that rattles the windows, and if I wasn’t so far gone, pleasure darkening my vision and coiling tightly at the base of my spine, I might be worried about falling fifty-eight floors straight onto St. James Avenue below with my pants around my thighs and my cock hanging out.
But right now, I’m not worried about anything but filling Evan full of my cum.
“I hate you too, Rhodes, but I sure don’t hate fucking you,” I grind out, bending my knees to get deeper. I must hit Evan exactly right, because she cries out, her eyes locking with mine and her mouth falling open like she wants to say something before she slams it shut.
“What is it?” I rasp, angling my hips so I hit her clit with every thrust because I’m so close to the edge, but I’ll be goddamned if she doesn’t come first. “Don’t want to tell me how good I make you feel? How badly you want to come on my cock? It’s okay, Rhodes. You don’t have to say the words for me to know it’s true.”
“Fuck you.” She gasps, her eyes flashing as she yanks my mouth to hers. This time it’s her shoving her tongue into my mouth, slicking against mine. The sounds of our sweat-soaked bodies slapping together and the symphony of grunts and groans and the rattling of the windows fills the conference room with an erotic soundtrack as I reach around and grip Evan’s ass in both hands, holding her tightly against my thrusts.
“Look at me,” I growl as her eyes fall shut. “You don’t get topretend I’m someone else when I’m the one fucking you so good. When you’re coming on my cock, your eyes stay on me.”
My shock when Evan does what I ask ratchets up my pleasure to almost intolerable levels. With her eyes locked on mine, I dig my fingers into her ass and angle my hips in a way that has her crying out, her pussy clenching as she falls apart around me. Her legs shake and her hands grip my hair so hard my eyes water as my hips lose their rhythm. Pleasure races up my spine, and I groan as my orgasm hits me like a truck, my vision blurring as I explode inside her. I lock my knees to stay upright as my muscles practically liquify with the force of my release.
“Fuck,” I grit out, slowing my hips, my breaths sawing in and out of my lungs and my heart thundering.
“You sure can,” Evan says, sliding down my body until her feet hit the floor. Her lips are curled in a smirk, blue eyes flashing with what I would swear looks like humor if I didn’t know for sure that humor is not an emotion this woman is acquainted with.
“So can you. A-plus fucking Rhodes.”
“I do like to be the best at things.” She pats my cheek in the most condescending way imaginable and pulls down her skirt, bending to pick up her bra, sliding it on and reaching back to clasp it. Picking up my undershirt and tugging it over her head, she sits back down at the conference table, taking a long sip from her Diet Coke can, then glances over at me where I’m still frozen by the window, eyebrow raised. “Are you coming? Or do I have to do all this work for you too?”
I’m entirely without words. No witty comeback. No biting insult. I’ve got absolutely nothing. Instead, I stand there, pants still around my thighs, and stare at her, wondering what the fuck just happened, and why I’m already thinking about making it happen again.
CHAPTER ONE
EVAN
OCTOBER
“Oh my god,” I squeal out, grinning wide as my fingers fly over the computer, the only sounds in my still mostly dark office the clacking of my laptop keyboard and my feet hitting the floor under my desk as I literally kick my heels.
This story is even better than I imagined it, and my imagination is…vivid.
Glancing over at the spiral notebook open on my desk to remind myself of the dialogue I wanted to add, I type with one hand as I grab a Jolly Rancher from the pile by my computer, squeezing it out of the wrapper with two fingers and popping it into my mouth. The cherry flavor exploding on my tongue immediately improves my already excellent mood as I nudge my characters through what they thought was an impossible conflict. I cackle maniacally. They all should have known better.
In this fictional world, nothing is impossible.
