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I don’t think she knows just how serious I am…but she will. “And wherever I want.”
I’m thinking hard about that long dining room table downstairs, about sitting at the head of it and pulling her right up to my chair so I can enjoy her like a meal. The more I visualize it, the more I want that.
I’ve never in my life failed to pursue what I want until I get it. Harlow won’t be different.
“If there’s privacy, yes.”
I can appreciate that caveat. The last thing I need now is any sort of scandal threatening my future. I have to be squeaky clean to keep my endorsement deals, and especially if I’m even going to entertain the notion of accepting this broadcasting offer. I would never want to embarrass or jeopardize Harlow in public, either. But in private, I want to be dirty as hell with her.
“Done,” I promise. “And I’ll hold you to it.”
“Fine,” she pants. “Just make me come. Please…”
Ah, those are the sweetest words. One little breathy plea, and my cock feels as if it’s ready to burst. I’m going to enjoy wringing even more begging out of her soon.
“My pleasure, baby,” I assure her as I focus my undivided attention on her pussy again, lapping and licking, stroking, flicking, and nipping.
Within seconds, she’s heaving air in and out of her lungs, every inhalation a bit louder as she keens her way up and up. Finally, her body freezes, her bliss breaks, and her voice splits into a wail that bounces off the walls, peals around the room, and fills my ears with the sweet sounds of her ecstasy.
Nice to know she’s a screamer, after all.
Her orgasm seems to go on forever, and her body bucks and shudders. I grip her hips, hold her down, and keep at her until I wring every last bit of shivering pleasure from her body. Until she falls limp against the mattress with an exhausted sigh.
I can’t remember the last time satisfaction was so sweet—and I haven’t even found my own climax yet.
“What did you do to me? My legs are Jell-O,” she murmurs.
“How about the rest of you?” I ease away long enough to reach for a condom.
A little smile spreads across her rosy lips. “I’m floating. But who knew I could see black spots and stars during climax?” She opens one eye to look at me. “I admit I was skeptical when the clothes started coming off, but you were amazing. Is that oral technique something they teach you in training camp? Maybe you learned how to lob the ball up one day and go down on a woman like a god the next?”
I laugh. “I’m afraid training camp was never that entertaining. I might have liked it a whole lot better. But instead, I was trapped for weeks with sweaty dudes in hot climates, wishing like hell fall would hurry up.”
“So you’re just naturally orally gifted, then?” She sighs and goes on as if she doesn’t expect me to reply. “I feel like a lucky girl.”
“Good. Then you won’t regret agreeing to let me eat my fill of you tomorrow.” I give her a wide grin.
Harlow struggles up onto her elbows. “You were serious?”
“Why would you think I wasn’t?”
“I just assumed it was…you know, sexy talk.”
“Nope. I expect to have my mouth on you tomorrow whenever and wherever I want. You agreed.”
She nods slowly, some of the flush receding from her cheeks and chest. “I did. You can go down on me, but since you haven’t had your orgasm yet, I think it’s the perfect time to make a bargain of my own. I’ll throw in sex now and whenever you want tomorrow—if you agree to let me help you with your post-concussive speech issues. If not, well… I got mine. I feel damn good. I could roll over and sleep like a baby all night now. How about you?”
Isit back on my heels, staring at Harlow. Smart, sly woman. I did not see her turning the tables on me…and I should have. She seems like the sort of woman who gives as good as she gets—plus a bit more to let people know she means business.
“I don’t have speech issues.” The words come out more clipped than I mean them to.
“So you don’t have more difficulty speaking when you’re tired or nervous or in stressful situations? So it hasn’t been holding you back from conversations, social situations, or maybe even future career plans? I saw a rumor on the Internet that several networks are looking to bring you on to their broadcasting team and that you haven’t indicated your interest one way or the other. Most people suspect it’s a ploy to wheedle more money out of them, but I think you’re worried about being able to actually do the job. You don’t want your legacy to be the once-in-a-lifetime quarterback who sucked in the broadcasting booth, do you?”
I drop the condom. “I’m not talking about this now. I’ve got a hard-on from hell, and I thought we were having sex. Did you change your mind?”
“No. I really, really want you inside me.” Her face softens. “But I want to help you, too. And I can.”
“Why do you give a shit?”
