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"Sorry, Mike. Maybe another night?"
The man can’t hardly believe that he’s being replaced, but he doesn’t argue, and just shakes his head. "There won't be another night," he says, his ego obviously crushed. He goes back to grab his keys, and then leaves for good.
I watch as the elevator closes behind him, and then I turn to Julianna. "These are for you," I say, handing her the roses.
She takes them in her arms and I can’t help but notice how closely her lipstick matches the deep red of the roses. Coincidence? Or fate? I’m entranced. The red dress. The deep-red plump lips. The scent of her perfume. The impossibly high heels. All of this heightens my senses, and I feel my cock twitch in my pants. It’s ready to burst through the confines of the material. Fuck, I want her so badly. I feel as if in that moment I'd do anything to have her. I step into her penthouse and she closes the door, locking it behind her. My shoes make a faint clicking sound against her brightly polished hardwood floors. Her place is huge with a wide-open floor plan and ceiling-to-floor windows that look out over Manhattan, with all of the lights of the city shimmering in the distance. I scan the darkness and think idly that the lights look like broken glass spilled across the skyline.
"You get what you wanted?" she asks with the hint of a smile. She saunters over to the table, swinging her hips suggestively and places the flowers down. " It's just you and me,” she says with a wicked smile. “Whatever shall we do?"
I think for a moment, and without hesitation say, "Besides doing you, I don't know."
"That's bold," she replies, "but I like a man who knows what he wants."
This spurs me on. I step closer to her and touch her hair, and then her shoulders, one at a time. Her dress hangs just below her shoulders, so I touch the exposed skin. My other hand brushes against her thigh. "You're so beautiful," I say. "I can't stop thinking about you. Ever since our first meeting at your office, I knew I needed you."
"Well, aren't you just the bleeding heart romantic," she says dismissively. "The roses, the accolades—what's next?"
I place my hands on her face and look into her eyes, trying to break through her cold exterior. "I mean it. I've never met a woman like you before."
For some reason, that does it. I finally have her attention. I can see the pulse in her neck flutter and quicken. I lean in, slowly brushing my lips against hers, and then her lips part. She opens her mouth to take me in, our tongues mingling and exploring, and pressing against one another. The warmth of her tongue against mine is intoxicating. She bites my bottom lip and I run my fingers through her hair, breathing in her scent deeply. I grab a fistful of her blonde locks and use it to pull her head back, I expose her throat. I kiss her vulnerable neck, traveling with my mouth upwards until I’m back at her lips. I press my mouth into hers hard. My cock stiffens. I want to hold her breasts in my hands, I want to touch the small of her back and touch her perfect ass. I want to know what she feels like in the secret inner spaces of her thighs.
She pulls back and looks into my eyes. I think her gaze could melt me into a puddle at her feet. She then leans back in with her arms wrapped around my shoulders and whispered, "Would you like to stay here tonight?"
My he
art thumps. I touch her hair, and whisper back into her ear, "Do you want me to?" I then run my tongue across the ridges of her ear and she shudders.
"My couch pulls out, but I don't," she says with a sinful, wicked grin.
8
Julianna
Ethan Blake - now this is a man that hates losing more than anything. On and off the field.
If it were anyone else showing up at my place, I’d be calling security in a heartbeat. But with Ethan… Let’s just say the moment I saw him I had to throw Matt - or Mike or whatever his name was - out. Opening the door and seeing Ethan’s soulful eyes, his strong frame towering over me, I knew I had to have him.
Colt won the scrimmage, yes, but Ethan has just pulled the rug out from under his feet. Having him so close to me, his lips on my skin, his chiseled muscles begging for me to touch them, I know who’s won the first round.
I want him. I want him really bad. And, like everything that I want, I’m going to have him.
Do you doubt me?
Good.
“Come here,” I whisper, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into me. He grins, delight and desire painting his face, and comes willingly. He rests his big hands on my waist and, the moment he leans into me and kisses me once more, I close my eyes and let go.
We’ve just kissed and I already know this is going to be good. For a man as imposing as him, he’s actually more than a good kisser. I tilt my head to the side, pulling him closer and pressing my mouth harder against his. I part my lips and slip my tongue inside his mouth, a whirlwind of lust dancing inside my head.
I exhale sharply as, still grabbing me by the waist, he pushes me back and pins me against the door. His fingers dart to my wrists and he lifts my arms up over my head.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw you,” he says, his brown eyes filled with desire. I have no doubt about what he just said - I’m pretty sure he actually thought of this the first time he laid eyes on me. Each word that tumbles out of his mouth makes me want him more, boiling blood traveling through my veins and raising hell between my thighs. My panties are drenched, my juices soaking them in a way that hasn’t happened for a long, long time. Sure, I have my urges and I sate them with a hefty dosage of men and sex whenever I want to, but this is something entirely different. This is raw desire in its purest and most violent form.
“I know,” I whisper, a smile pregnant with anticipation dawning on my lips. He doesn’t know it yet, but after I’m done with him, he won’t be able to look at any other woman the same way.
I throw my head back, baring my neck to him, and he savors my skin with gentle kisses. I pant each time his lips touch me, a gentle fog of pleasure blanketing my mind. I get out of his hold with cat like movements, freeing my hands and taking them to his shirt, my frantic fingers popping button after button. I untuck his shirt then and, almost with a growl, I press the open palm of my hands on his pectorals, feeling the iron and steel of a rare breed of men under my fingertips.
Ethan presses his body against mine, the warmness of his skin sending a shiver down my spine, and then grabs a handful of hair on the nape of my neck. Holding my head, he presses his mouth against mine; fireworks go off behind my eyelids as we kiss savagely, our tongues dancing and fighting against each other with abandonment.
