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‘Much better,’ she says, when she can speak again.

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

But before she’s had too long to recover, I grab her legs and yank her down to the ground with me, surprising her so she laughs spontaneously. My gut twists at the sound. I like her laugh. More than that, I like her spontaneous reactions, when she’s led by instinct rather than coolly contained.

‘Condom?’

‘In my wallet.’

She looks around desperately, sees my shorts and moves to them quickly. Her lithe grace and elegance are completely innate. She pulls a condom out and rips it open as she strolls back to me, then shifts between my legs.

I wait for her to spread it in place but, before she does, her head drops down over my dick and her eyes meet mine. ‘Just a little bit more of this, I think.’

Who am I to complain? I prop myself on my arm so I can watch as her head moves, her dark hair a frustrating curtain because I want to see her mouth taking me deep inside.

It’s like I’ve said those words out loud because a moment later her hands lift and she pulls her hair back, catching it over one shoulder so I have a clear view of what she’s doing now. I feel her warmth and wetness surrounding me but, at the same time, I can see her soft red lips sliding over me and it is the hottest thing ever.

That tightness is back, the beginning of my orgasm. I reach down, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Stop now.’

She pouts. ‘Do I have to?’

‘Mmm.’ A guttural noise of agreement. ‘You do if you want me to fuck you.’

She grins, an impish, sexy smile that shows me she knows exactly the power she’s wielding right now.

‘This time, I thought I’d fuck you.’

A second later the condom is on and she’s straddling me, her beautiful legs spread across my hips, taking me inside her, deep, completely, her tightness making me groan slowly, my body utterly captivated by this experience, savouring every piece of it, every element.

I reach up and cup her breasts, feeling their strength, their weight in my hands, flicking her nipples so she bites down on her lower lip, tilting her head back. I want to see her; I want her to look at me. I push up onto my elbows, sitting up so I can drag a nipple into my mouth, distracted by the fact they’re right there, and then lift my face higher, seeking her mouth first, my eyes searching hers. She closes them and speeds up, taking me deeper, her pleasure about to burst. I feel her muscles tightening around me and hear her frantic noises and right as she bursts with relief I let go of my self-control and chase after her, my orgasm ripping through me. She presses her face to my shoulder so I can’t see her but I can feel every shudder as it tears through her body.

‘Well,’ her voi

ce drawls through the room. She shifts a little, facing me. ‘That wasn’t on my agenda today.’ She looks around her office as though this very localised hurricane has caught us both up in it and spat us out without our consent, landing us smack bang in the middle of her office.

‘Nor mine.’

She lifts a brow, her hand toying with my hair as though she can’t help it. ‘Really?’

I frown. ‘That’s not why I came here.’

‘Right. You wanted to talk.’ She says the word with derision, shifting away from me at the same time, as though the idea is laughable, but I barely notice. Her body’s separation from mine makes me want to grab hold of her and drag her back. I don’t think I’m anywhere near done with Avery Maxwell yet.

But shit. She’s right. I came here to talk, and about something that should have been more important than sex.

We trust you, Barrett—that’s why we asked you to do this for us. If you think it’s the right time to tell her, then do it. She’s our sister. We’ll leave it in your hands.

The conversation with Jagger is lodged inside my brain. They trust me, and this—sleeping with Avery—definitely shouldn’t have happened again.

‘Avery—’ She’s midway through pulling on her clothes. A lace thong and black bra, then her jeans. I watch her dress, finding it almost impossible to locate any words in my mind. ‘I’m starving. Let’s go eat something.’

Her hands still, midway through buttoning up her shirt.

‘Stop trying to ask me out. I don’t want to date you.’

That’s not what I was trying to do but her intransigence, when a short while ago we were as close as any two humans can be, is infuriating. I stand up, crossing to her wastepaper basket and disposing of the condom before pulling my boxers on. My clothes are strewn all over the room. I eye them with a lash of frustration.

‘But it’s fine to fuck me?’


Tags: Clare Connelly The Notorious Harts Billionaire Romance