“Yes. Pull out and come all over me.” I run my hand down my front. “Here.”
He resumes thrusting, pounding his body into mine, and I can tell he’s close. The tension in his shoulders, the sounds he makes deep in his throat. I know all of his tells already, and when the orgasm is almost upon him, he rips himself away from me, grips the base of his cock and…
Spurts cum all over me.
I smile as I watch him, reaching for the spot on my stomach, dragging my fingers through the sticky liquid. He’s on his haunches between my spread legs, his head tilted back, his eyes closed as he breathes raggedly. He shivers, another tiny spurt of creamy liquid dripping from his cock, and I reach for him, tracing the slit. Scooping up what remnants I can before I bring my fingers to my lips and taste.
“Jesus, Syl.”
“I know.” My smile grows. “That was the best distraction ever.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
SPENCER
I am a man in love.And I don’t give a damn who knows it.
I stroll into the Donato headquarters first thing Monday morning, whistling like a damn fool, which was my first mistake. The second one was me smiling at everyone I walked past as I strode through the office, which caused pretty much every single one of them to report this tiny fact to my father. Most of the time, when I come into work, I’m a grouchy ass motherfucker who won’t even speak until I’ve had at least one cup of coffee in me. Maybe two. And none of that sweet Starbucks dessert crap either.
I take my coffee black. No cream, no sugar.
I’m sitting at my desk with my feet propped on the edge, contemplating if I should send Sylvie a text or not to wake her up when my office door bangs open, my father marching his way inside.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I drop my feet to the ground and sit up straight in my chair, tossing my phone on my desk. She doesn’t even have a new phone yet. It’s coming later today, so there’s no point in trying to text her. She wouldn’t get it. “Well, good morning to you too.”
Victor Donato stops to stand behind a chair, reaching out to grip it so tightly, his knuckles turn white. “Do you have anything to tell me?”
“Not anything in particular.” I brace myself for bad news. Maybe we lost a shipment over the weekend. Or someone slipped in and bought out that building downtown we’ve been trying to acquire for the last six months. It could be a myriad of things to set my father off.
“People have been reporting in. About you.” He loosens his grip on the chair. “They say you’re too damn cheerful for your own good.”
“So?” I shrug a shoulder, trying to play it off. Keep it cool.
My father is always looking for a reaction and I’ve learned over the years not to give him one. It’s a talent I’ve honed since I was a teen.
“You’re like me. You’renevercheerful. What’s gotten into you?” His gaze never strays from mine and I swear I want to squirm in my chair like I’m eight and just got caught busting out a window with a baseball. I hate it when he looks at me like that. As if he could read my every thought. I see the realization dawn in his eyes before he declares, “You’ve met a woman.”
“I’ve known her for years,” I say calmly.
Chased her for years.
Loved her for years.
Don’t admit those facts out loud.
“Sylvie Lancaster?”
I nod, keeping my expression impassive. I know what he’s going to say in three, two, one…
“A woman is a weakness. Why else do you think I left your mother? She was so needy. Always wanting me around. Making demands I could never meet. My enemies knew of her existence and threatened her pretty little head on a constant basis. She had no clue.” He waves a hand, as if he could make her disappear that easily. Which he, sort of, did. “Trust me that this one will be the same for you.”
“She’s already living with me.” I hadn’t planned on telling him that little fact just yet, but it’s like I couldn’t stop the words from leaving my mouth.
“Really.”
I nod again, remaining silent.