“Reg, you get to shut up shop,” he threw over his shoulder, not slowing down. “And if any of you see Sam before you see me again, you are under orders to ocky-strap her to the chair in my office and keep her there.”
He didn’t wait to see his crew’s reaction. His body, however, made it clear how it felt about tying Sami Charlton to a chair with bungee cords. Or any kind of cord…or rope…
Jesus.
Ignoring the purely physical response—difficult as it was; walking with a semi-hard-on was never easy—Jay exited the garage and headed for the corporate box Eli Swanson was ensconced in.
He had to stop Sami agreeing to the stupid bet.
Before the Yank bastard got his mitts into her again.
An image of Swanson and Sami writhing completely naked on a bed filled Jay’s head, and his feet stumbled beneath him midstride.
“Fuck,” he muttered, trying to clear his head.
But it didn’t matter how much he scrunched his eyes shut and grimaced around gritted teeth, in his mind, Eli Swanson traced the tip of his tongue the length of Sami’s inner thigh until his face was buried between her spread legs and Sami arched on the mattress, kneading her own breasts as she rolled her head from side to side and begged him to make her—
Jay burst into a sprint, his cock no longer semi-hard but a rigid shaft. Harder than it had a right being, given the way his mind was torturing him.
Taking the concrete stairs leading up to Swanson’s private box two at a time, Jay balled his fists to the point of pain. It didn’t help. By the time he arrived at the corporate box’s closed door, the image in his mind had become something more than torturous. Something beyond arousing.
Something too appealing. Too inviting.
An image involving not just Eli and Sami, but…
It’s reminding you how fucking amazing it is to share a woman with Swanson. And how much you want Sami for yourself.
Stupid fucking mind.
Heart wild, balls throbbing, he hammered the side of his fist against the closed door.
In his mind, Swanson lifted his head from between Sami’s thighs…just as Sami reached for Jay’s erect cock and slid her lips over its bulbous crown.
Eyes closed, Jay mashed his forehead against the door and let out a tormented groan.
No. No, he didn’t want to go there.
Bullshit. Has your cock ever been harder?
He hammered his fist against the solid wood again. “Sam,” he shouted, and even to his own ears, her name sounded more like a wretched plea. “Don’t let the fucking bastard—”
The door swung open.
Jay tumbled over the threshold, catching his balance a second before he slammed into a soft, warm body.
“Jay?” Sami’s voice flayed at his senses as strong fingers wrapped around his biceps.
In one savage move, he grabbed Sami around the waist, yanked her to his body and crushed her mouth with his.
&nb
sp; She stilled against him for barely a heartbeat, body stiff and rigid, and then tangled her fingers in his hair and met his fierce hunger with equal greed.
Again, for barely a heartbeat.
Tearing her lips from his, Sami pressed her palms to his chest and pushed their upper bodies apart. She gaped up at him, confusion warring with another emotion Jay couldn’t identify in her eyes. “What the fuck, Jay?”
“I think,” Eli’s broad Southern accent filled the strangled silence, “that Rutledge is doing his best to mark his territory.”