Page 631 of Hell Hath No Fury
I slip my tongue into her mouth, and she tugs on it, moaning simultaneously. I can taste the drink she had tonight, and it’s intoxicating. I watch as Rylan yanks her camisole from her skirt, and I bite down on my bottom lip in anticipation. Soon I follow her lead of undressing and toe off my shoes.
When my eyes meet hers again, all I find in them are lust and a dangerous determination. She pushes off the door and places her palm on my throbbing heart. Rylan steps forward, guiding me backward until we reach my living room. I stop moving, pulling her by the waist to me again.
“Mm,” she whimpers when I flick the tip of my tongue across her lips.
“Take off your shirt,” I demand and pad backward until my calves reach the couch.
Rylan’s breasts heave, but she doesn’t take to my instructions right away. It’s almost like she’s unsure if she wants to as if she’s fighting for dominance. We didn’t talk much before ending up here, but considering what had her riled up in the first place, I gather she’s used to being in charge.
Not tonight, though.
“Now,” I add, my tone low but stern.
She swallows, and my dick twitches at the way her throat bobs when she does. I unbuckle my pants, letting them drop tothe floor before grabbing my shaft through my boxer briefs. She finally does as told and lifts the shirt over her head. At the same time, I follow suit and remove my designer t-shirt. Her breathing is a labored mess when she makes eye contact with my bare chest.
I observe her as she traces the tattoo on my arm with her gaze, trailing it up to my bicep and along my right pec. Rylan’s shoulders shudder when she looks at me, and I swear all I want to do is fuck her right where she stands. To hell with patience. I want to have her, I need her, and I can tell she needs me too. But I won’t do it. I want her to beg for my dick.
The glow of the moonlight shines through the large windows, cascading over her flawless light brown skin. It’s something about how the light hits the curves of her body and the flow of her long dreadlocks. She wears the top up in a bun, keeping it out of her face, while the back hangs free. Her full lips swell from our kisses, and the red lipstick she wore is now smeared. I wish she could see what I see.
“Come here.” I lower myself on the sofa, scooting until I am comfortable.
Rylan inches closer, her hips swaying from left to right, taunting me. She’s in between my legs, looking down at me. I rub along her thighs until my hands disappear under the fabric of her skirt. Slipping my fingers past the hem of her panties, I squeeze her ass cheeks, massaging them, and loving how soft her skin is against my touch.
I remove her underwear and then dig a condom from my pants. I sit back, running my gaze along her body again. I fall onto the cushion of my couch while I roll the rubber over my meat.
I sit, my arms stretched out at my side. “Sit,” I order.
No sooner than I finish, she’s already straddling my lap, but she doesn’t take her seat just yet. Instead, she hovers in place,her hot center teasingly brushing against my tip. My lungs pump on overdrive as I practice restraint, not to slam her down and fill her up.
Rylan places a palm against my neck, bringing my eyes to hers. We stare for a second too long before she finally kisses me. Next, her hand goes between us, wrapping her fingers around my dick. My head falls back as she squeezes, and when the warmth of her body floods my lap, my mouth gapes open.
We kiss some more, losing ourselves in each other. Two strangers, but with a connection that feels like it’s been around a lifetime. She lets loose before my eyes, and I watch all the earlier tension fade away with every stroke into her body.
I always know when a connection is brewing, and no one can tell me we don’t have it.
CHAPTER TWO
Rylan
I drop my keys on my desk before pulling my phone from the side pocket of my purse. It’s Monday, and even though I’ve had my morning coffee, it still feels like the Monday-ist Monday ever.
Usually, I’m ready to start the week. I love my job and everything that comes with it. It took me years to get here, to prove myself and secure my position. But instead of the usual pep in my step, I’ve dreaded this day all weekend. Today I meet my new employee, the kid I never wanted to hire.
Honestly, I don’t know what annoys me more. Is it that my boss is pretty much saying he doesn’t trust me to do what he hired me to do? Does he think I need a man to hold my hand along the way? Or is it because I had no say in the matter?
This is my department, my team, and I should decide who I work with. We didn’t even need a new team member. Everything was smooth. But Mr. Bass, CEO of Bass Marketing, feels numbers and logic mean nothing when it regards his kid. Why should we follow procedures? Nepotism is a real bitch, one that will haunt me from here on out.
I inhale deeply and release my breath to settle my nerves. The last thing I want is to allow my disdain for my boss’s decision to overshadow my ability to do my job. It may not be my choice, but this is what I’ve got. I don’t have to like it or him. I’ll get through the day, then the next week. Before long, he’ll blend into the background.
When I glance down at my phone, I raise my brows in surprise. I let myself go this weekend and went to different lengths to remedy the frustration I felt when I got the news. Being pissed off with Mr. Bass, coupled with over two years of no sexual relief—alcohol was not enough. Aileen always talks about needing something stiffer than vodka to unwind. She was right, and that’s precisely what I got.
“How is his number in my phone?” I whisper as I stare at the name on the screen.
Kareem-“I figured I’d wait a few days before I said anything. Can you imagine my surprise when I woke up in bed alone? Why’d you leave?”
His text dances across the screen, and all I can think about is, when did we exchange numbers? I know I drank a lot, but not that damn much, and I’d purposely avoided the question as I lay in his arms.
And as if he’s reading my mind, another text appears.
