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I pushed up the skirt of her dress, yanked her lacy panties to the side, and dove right in. The sweet sound of her gasp sent a rush of satisfaction down my spine and right to my hardening cock. Her legs parted wider when I dipped a finger inside of her while I traced my tongue around her clit.
She threaded her fingers in my hair—gently, until I crooked my finger just right, and her grip tightened. I smiled against her flesh.
“Pull my hair as hard as you want,” I said. “I like to know I’m making you lose control.”
As ragingly hard as I was, I took my time figuring out her body more. She loved it when I varied the speed of my fingers inside her, rubbing up against her g-spot while my tongue danced across her clit. My scalp stung with the way she was pulling on my hair, but I didn’t give a shit. The burn spurred me on.
“Oh,” she breathed when I added another finger. She was perfectly tight. “Your fingers are a lot bigger than mine. Feels good.”
“You stretch around me so well, B,” I said, speeding up and slowing down until she was trembling all over. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. I’m going to lose my fucking mind if you feel this good around my fingers.”
She squirmed under me until I had to hold her legs open with my elbows. If her cries were a good indication, she was already close. I pulled back, slowing down and kissing her soft inner thighs. Just when she calmed down, I worked her up again. And again.
“Shit,” she said, her hips pushing up into my face. “I’m so close.”
“Yeah?” My smile broadened. The feeling of a woman coming on my tongue was one of my favorite sensations in the world. “Come for me.”
I thrusted my finger in fast and pulled out slowly, making her clench around me hard. With just the right amount of finger thrusting and tongue flicking, she was crying out and coming before I knew it. The sounds of her cries and the taste of her on my lips were making me hard as hell—if it was possible to get even harder—without even touching myself.
“Can I return the favor?” Brooke asked, adjusting her panties and the bottom of her dress before trying to smooth out her hair.
“Please.” I stood up to sit on the couch, but a familiar ding toward the front door made me freeze. Hunter and Chase were already here? I wanted to strangle them both for having the absolute worst timing. “Shit. I need to…”
“I’ll cover for you,” she said, gesturing to her face. “Do I look okay? Anything out of place?”
I looked her over. Her lipstick must have been magic, because it didn’t transfer. She looked just as stunning as she had before.
“No, you look perfect,” I said. Hunter’s and Chase’s voices got closer, so I darted into the bathroom and locked the door.
My cock was still rock hard. In my head, I’d thought of her sucking me off instead of me fucking my fist again. But my fist was going to have to be it for now. At least until I got her alone again. Any attempts to keep things as boss and assistant had blown up back in my living room, and putting them back together was going to be impossible.
My lust for Brooke wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced before. I didn’t know why or how it had come on so suddenly. But as I jerked off, trying to keep quiet, I knew I was going to roll with the feeling and see where it led us.
CHAPTER7
Brooke
My panties were still damp as I walked onto the casino floor. Maybe I should have taken them off, but that would have reminded me of Lucas pushing them to the side the way he just had.
How had Lucas and I gone from a friendly reunion almost a week ago tothat? I’d never felt such a rush of lust for someone. Maybe my dry spell, plus Lucas’s intense blue eyes roaming all over my body, was just too much for me to handle.
To be honest, being desired, especially by a guy who I’d thought of as completely unattainable in the past, was a big confidence boost. Or at least it was until I remembered that he was my boss, and I hadjusttold myself that I wasn’t going to lust after my bosses. Or men in general, after what I’d been through recently.
Was I going to be able to put that incident behind me now that I’d scratched the itch? It had helped ease some of the pressure inside of me that I hadn’t even realized I’d been carrying around. It was enough for me to focus on what I had to do.
I adjusted my hair and subtly made sure my earpiece was in place. It was the same color as my skin, so as long as I kept my hair in place, no one would see it. My heart started pounding as I approached the blackjack table where I’d been assigned. The game wasn’t complicated at all, but I reached into the depths of my brain to remember the training they’d put me through. That orgasm had scrambled my brain.
The dealer from the previous shift was finishing up, making the few people around the table laugh. He noticed me coming, glanced at my name tag, and nodded at me. He thanked everyone at the table before allowing me to step into place. The knot in my stomach loosened when I looked around the table—the only gamblers were an older couple and a middle-aged man wearing a t-shirt and jeans. At least the guys who I had to monitor weren’t there from the beginning. I needed time to warm up.
“Hi there,” I said with a smile. “Hope you guys are feeling lucky tonight.”
We started the next round. Falling into the rhythm of the game was easier than I thought it’d be—the wins, the losses, the people wandering by our table when people got on a roll. The foot traffic in the casino increased around nine. The casually dressed older couple and middle-aged man were replaced with people from all over, dressed up for a night out.
Every time someone came and left, my heart skipped a few beats. Were the criminals even going to show up?
When they did show up, I knew they were trouble right away. It wasn’t what they looked like, weirdly enough—it was the way they carried themselves, like they knew they’d be completely safe no matter what they did because they were at the top of the food chain. That energy hadn’t translated from the mug shots that Chase had shown me.
Still, I smiled at the first criminal, whose name I couldn’t remember. That was for the best, though—I didn’t want to tip them off that I knew anything about them. He was wearing an expensive-looking suit, a sharp contrast from the tattoos snaking up his hands. He pulled his chips out and stacked them neatly before he looked up at me. Or rather, at my cleavage.
