The CEO's Baby (Thirsty Thursday Book 2) Page 5

  I’ll keep telling myself that until I believe it. There’s no reason not to believe it, so I might as well get used to it. But, when I grab my keys from my purse to go to the grocery store, I realize that my car isn’t here, either. It’s still at Shiree’s house. Where I left it yesterday before riding with her and Chaz to their wedding and the subsequent party. Shit.

  I dip my hand back in my purse, determined not to resort to what I think I might. But, if I’m going to get my car, then I have to use my phone—if only to use that rideshare app I was going to use an hour ago. However, when I go to pull the app up, my finger freezes. My heart wants me to call to see if Blake can swing back around and take me to get my car. But my brain reminds my heart that it’s a fucked-up idea I shouldn’t want anything to do with. We’re not friends, and he doesn’t owe me any favors. If anything, after four orgasms, I owe him some favors.

  Hmm. Maybe that’s a better excuse to call him.

  Stop!

  I close my eyes and draw a large inhale in. When I feel ready, I slowly let it out through my mouth. There. All done. The feeling has passed and I can move on to—

  Someone knocks on my door. Hard. Several times. But I’m not expecting anyone. So, who the hell is out there?

  With my purse still in my hand, I carefully open the door. For the second time today, Blake is filling a doorway in front of me, but this time, there’s no food. Instead, desperation and hunger swim in his eyes. He’s leaning against the doorframe, resting his forehead on one bent arm.

  “Is it too much to ask for you to pout those pretty fucking lips and suck my dick?” he asks, lifting his head.

  “You pout your damn lips and lick my pussy,” flies from my mouth. Where in the hell did that come from?

  “I did last night,” he says as he brushes past me, entering my apartment without my permission. Kind of like he did to my heart.

  No. No, no, no. That’s utter nonsense. And I won’t listen to it. Not for a second.

  But he did lick my pussy last night. He’s not wrong about that. And I did just have that thought about owing him favors. I didn’t, however, think it’d all happen to soon. Or ever, honestly. He’s clearly a playboy. So my heart wants to know why he’s on my doorstep, demanding a blowjob from me. My brain doesn’t want to think twice about it though. It’s all just sex. I can do this. And it’ll help me put more of what happened between me and Roger behind me.

  Yep. That’s exactly why I’m passing him up, dropping my purse on the chair, and leading him straight to my bedroom. For moving on. Just like I said I was going to do after my deep breath. Here goes nothing.

  I don’t turn the light on. There is plenty of natural light in the room for us to see what we’re doing. Even though, when I was with Roger, I didn’t want to necessarily be seen, I want him to see me when I do this. Guessing by the frustration rolling off him in waves, I’d say he needs to see this.

  He’s wearing the same T-shirt and jeans from earlier, and I wonder if he even went home. But I don’t ask. Instead, I take control. I’m not sure why, but I do. No words, just actions. His body is demanding it, and I’m willing to do it for him.

  It’s thrilling to push him back on the bed. It’s exciting to kneel before him and stare him in the eye while undoing his pants. And it’s downright fucking exhilarating to wrap my hand around his already-hard cock and pull it out of his jeans. Then my mouth literally waters at the prospect of sucking his hard length. So I do because I can’t stand not doing it any longer.

  I put my lips around his head and suck lightly, testing the waters. But I remember his reaction to the way I slapped him yesterday and realize a light suction won’t do for him. I still want to tease him though. So I pop him from my mouth and run the tip of my tongue from his base to his head before going back to the bottom, flattening my tongue, and traveling back up. When I reach the tip, I cover his head completely and take him to the back of my throat. Then I meet his gaze.

  “Angel,” he groans out.

  The heat in his eyes hits me hard. The smoldering fire burning in them reminds me of the way he looked at me last night. Like there’s nowhere he’d rather be and like he’s about to blow at any second. But I don’t worry about that last part. He came here to be with me even though he could have any woman he wants. He’s in my bed, and that thought gives me all the power I need. But I want to use it for good. For his benefit. And I do.

  I hollow my cheeks, sucking hard, and he thrusts a hand into my hair and tugs my head back. But I do everything I can to keep him in my mouth. If he wants to be rough with me, he’ll get it right back. When he tugs harder, though, he pops right out of my mouth, which makes a smacking sound that echoes throughout the room. His hard dick springs straight back up though, and I’m not sure where we’re going now.

  Then I remember that I’m the one running this show. Not him. So I wrench my hair from his grasp, firmly grab his cock again, and slide him back into my mouth. He goes for my hair again, but I swat him away. I grip his thighs and find a steady rhythm, swirling my tongue over his head while my mouth bobs up and down on him. When he tries yet again to grab my hair, I let him this time. The sting brings tears to my eyes, but it’s a pleasurable pain I’ve never felt before. And I silently plea for him to pull harder. Which he does.

  Seconds later, he’s muttering about how he’s going to come, so I suck harder, deeper. I dig my nails deeper into his thighs, and he explodes against the back of my throat. Though I’ve never swallowed one time in my life, I gladly let his release flow down my throat. It’s like I telepathically know what he needs and his needs have become mine. I don’t know what he was so upset about when he got here, but the frustrated haze has lifted for the most part. Something’s still bugging him, but in the silence of the bedroom, I won’t ask. This wasn’t about me, and that’s okay.

  “Fuck. I didn’t mean to do that,” he says.

  I shake my head. “It’s fine. It’s what you needed.”

  “It’s not fine,” he insists. “I mean, I’m clean, but—”

  I rise and put a finger to his lips to cut him off. “That’s all I need to know, then. You don’t have to say anything else.”

  “No,” he says, taking my wrist and pushing my finger away. “I should have told you that before, and I’m not using you, angel. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “I didn’t say you were,” I tell him as he wraps an arm around my waist.

  He pulls me closer to him until his forehead is against my stomach. “I said I would never hurt you the way your ex did.”

  “Don’t worry,” I assure him. “You won’t, and I won’t let you.”

  Lifting his head, he looks up at me. I can’t clearly read his expression, but it strikes a chord anyway. Tugs at my heart a little. I’m not sure I ever want to see this look on his face again, if I’m honest. It’s sad. So unlike his typical full-of-himself façade. I don’t want to accept it, but part of me thinks I’m seeing more of the real Blake Cornwell. Maybe even a part he didn’t realize he has.

  Suddenly, his hand is at the back of my neck and he’s pulling me toward him for a kiss. When his tongue enters my mouth, I wonder for a brief second if he can taste himself on my tongue, but if he does, I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’s for that reason or if it’s something else that he deepens the kiss, pushes his tongue in farther, opens our mouths wider. I just know that this kiss isn’t about “just having sex” or some way to release some pent-up tension. I should turn my brain off and forget this. I shouldn’t think about this too hard, but the passion in this kiss is truly undeniable. Until he breaks it.

  Then what I see in his eyes renders me utterly speechless. I have no words. None whatsoever. It’s that powerful. That incredible. That completely different from what I witnessed from him yesterday that I’m frozen. Because, if I’m not, I’ll start allowing myself to believe there is more to it than there should be, than there ever could be, and I’ll end up getting hurt. So I shut my eyes, take a big, mind-clearin
g breath, and let it go.

  “Tell me,” he says, his hand moving up to cup my cheek. “Tell me how he hurt you.”

  I blink as tears sting my eyes. I didn’t think we’d ever even go there, but if he wants to and it might help me to move on, then maybe I should. So I blink again, take another big, word-gathering breath, and prepare to let even more go.

  ***

  Blake

  If he cheated on her, I’ll break his fucking neck. No one in their right mind could be unfaithful to this angel of a woman. This goddess. A woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you demand a blowjob is a woman you keep around. A woman who comes back with, “Lick my damn pussy,” is also a woman you want by your side forever. Too bad I’m not the forever type. No, I won’t use her. But it doesn’t mean I’m not selfish though. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to try to keep her around. And do whatever I can to not do whatever that fucker did to her.

  She sits next to me on the bed, and while she settles in, I tuck myself back into my pants. I don’t bother doing them up, though, because that’s not the last time I’m going to need it. Then, when we’re both ready, she turns to me and starts telling me her story.

  “He and I had been dating for two years.” She puts a hand up between us. “Don’t ask how I let it go on for two years without realizing we weren’t both on the same page, but we weren’t.” Then she drops it and puts both of her hands in her lap. “I thought we lived in separate apartments because our places of work were too far apart. But, apparently, it was because he was never that serious about us. When he got an offer to transfer fifteen hundred miles away, he took it.” Shyly, she tucks some hair behind her ear. “Didn’t ask me what I thought or even if I wanted to go with him once he’d decided to accept. Just started packing his shit and told me over the phone that he was leaving in a week.” Then she shrugs.

  I see the tears shining in her eyes though. She’s trying to be strong, act like it isn’t that big of a deal. But she already told me that she was hurt badly, and she’s clearly still hurting. Maybe I’m not the one using anyone—perhaps I’m the one being used. And maybe I couldn’t give a shit about that. Because, if she needs some meaningless sex, I’ll give it to her. Just not tonight. Tonight, it’s going to be about her. And it’ll be anything but meaningless.

  “That’s what happened,” she said. “So I think you’re good. We don’t run the risk of that happening if we’re just having sex.” She shakes her head.

  “Just having sex,” she said. We’re “just having sex.” We’re “just having sex”? These last twenty-four hours—between our “just having sex” and Chaz’s handing his company over to me—have been absolutely life changing. Mostly because I didn’t think I was “just having sex” for the first time in my entire life. In all of my thirty-one years—and, more importantly, in all of my sixteen sexually active years—I’ve never once slept with the same woman twice. Yet here I am. Ready to sink myself into a woman I fucked just yesterday. It’s no mistake. And it’s certainly not “just having sex.”

  But, like I said, if she needs some meaningless sex, I’ll give it to her. Just not tonight. So I decide to prove her wrong with my body. Because fuck this shit too. Fuck all the shit today. The board, my heart, and this. Fuck it all.

  I stand up, offering her my hand to take so she’ll stand too. She accepts it, and I pull her up to her feet. When she’s in front of me, I lift her off the ground by her hips, and she automatically wraps her legs around my waist, just like I wanted her to. Then I take her into the hallway, check the first door, and get lucky.

  “What are you doing?” she asks when I set her on the sink in her bathroom.

  In answer, I pull her shower curtain back and twist the knob. And I raise an eyebrow.

  She points to her still-damp hair. “I was just in there.”

  “Yeah, I could tell when I was pulling your hair earlier,” I tell her. “But you weren’t in there with me.” I point to my chest before I reach for the hem of my shirt and take it off.

  Her mouth parts, and her gazes stays firmly fixed on my abs. That’s the one good thing about practically living at the office—the gym Chaz and I designed. I hope that, with the title and position change, I’ll still have time to get in there.

  “My eyes are up here, angel,” I say, pointing up to my face. I’m grinning when she finally looks at them. “I take it your ex didn’t look like this.”

  She shakes her head. “No one I’ve ever been with has.”

  I check the temperature of the water. “No one you’ve ever been with has been me.”

  “Except you,” she quietly reminds me.

  I go to her, stepping between her knees. She hugs me to her with her legs, pressing my hardening dick right up against her pussy, and holds her arms up. Our clothes are still between us, and it seems she’s giving me the signal to eliminate that problem. So I do. I slowly lift the bottom of her shirt all the way up and over her head. Then I reach around her back to undo her bra. The straps fall down her arms, so I gently guide them down the rest of the way, trailing my fingers down her skin and leaving goose bumps in their wake. I kiss her shoulder, her collarbone, and her other shoulder before bending a little and taking one of her nipples into my mouth.

  I glance up at her as she tilts her head back and her eyes flutter closed. So I roll my tongue around her hardened peak and gently suck, pressing my fingers into her skin on her thighs for added pressure and pleasure. Then I risk moving to her other nipple, taking it between my teeth, and biting just a little. Just testing it out to see how she feels about it. She’s liked giving it to me roughly, and I love taking it, but I like giving it too. This is all about her right now though, so I’ll try it and see how it goes.

  And it seems to go well. She gasps and pushes her breast farther into my mouth, so I keep going. Nibbling, sucking, and licking as she writhes on the counter. Soon, I work my way back up to her mouth. When I touch her hips and start to scoot her forward, she tightens the grip her legs have around me. Once she’s cleared the sink, she drops her legs and settles back down on the ground.

  “Tease,” she says around a small laugh.

  “Oh, no. That’s just me getting started,” I say as I unbutton her jeans and push them down to the ground.

  Her panties went with them, so she steps out of everything and stands naked in all of her angelic glory in front of me. My pants are still undone, and I waste no time getting right the fuck out of them so I can get her and my rock-hard cock into the shower. Which I do by picking her up again and setting her in the stall.

  When I get in, the hot water pounds against my tight, rigid muscles, and the combination of that and being in here with her makes the bullshit disappear. There’s nothing but her, me, the water, and the sex we’re about to have. That’s all. So I press her against the wall—probably a little too hard for her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she lunges forward to start kissing me, props a leg up on the lip of the stall, and even reaches between us to guide my cock to her opening. Which almost makes me lose it right here and now.

  Once we’re lined up, I can feel how wet she is—and I know that it has absolutely anything to do with the shower. So I drive right into her, her tight heat accepting me without any work needed. The water rains down on us as I grab her hands and bring them up so our arms are bent at the elbows and our fingers are linked. With them pressed against the wall, I hold her there and pump into her slick pussy over and over until I nearly black out with the force of our combined explosions.

  While our orgasms rush through us, I stay inside her, both of us pulsing with our releases. I press my forehead to hers, catching my breath in rhythm with her rapidly rising and falling chest. Our hearts pound together in unison as we come down from the purest, highest high I’ve ever had. My head spins until the only thing I can focus on when I open my eyes is her. My angel. The only one to have this kind of fast, explosive power over me. This short-haired beauty who’s stolen my brain. And maybe some of my heart.<
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  And then I know. My worst fears with her used to be coming too fast or not being able to get her in my bed. But then I got her. And I didn’t come too fast. Then, somewhere along the way, fucking her out of my system turned into fucking her permanently into it. And, now, my worst fear is that I’ll do exactly what that jackass before did to her. Because I’m a man who doesn’t commit. I’m a man who just became the CEO for a Fortune 500 company that doesn’t want him looking like a playboy. I’m a man who has no time to even think about committing, especially to a woman who’s “just having sex” with him.

  I’m a man who has dug himself a hole and is scared shitless that he won’t find a way out.

  Chapter 7

  Lyra

  I see it the moment he flips the switch in his brain. When he stops being the caring, sweet I-don’t-want-to-ever-hurt-you Blake no one gets to see and starts being the hardhearted, indifferent I-never-fuck-the-same-girl-twice Blake he uses as a façade. His eyes go darker. His expression goes cold before it switches to something lighter, less serious. And he isn’t nearly as close to me as he’d normally be right now. Then it strikes me as odd that anything is “normal” when it comes to Blake and me.

  A little over twenty-four hours ago, I hadn’t even met this guy. Almost a week ago, I hadn’t even heard of him. Yet, now, I’m thinking about what’s considered normal for us. Probably because I went against my better judgment and slept with him, which isn’t something I do with every guy I meet when I burst into his office to give him a piece of my mind. Or, well, any other guy I meet. I’m much more selective than this. I’m a diehard romantic, so literally nothing about this is normal.