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I smile triumphantly into her mouth. “That’s it, Baby Girl. Hate me as you come on my cock.”
“I do, I hate you,” she snarls, then kisses me. Or tongues battle, touch, taste until her cunt clenches and pulses.
She pulls back, eyes boring into mine. Time ceases, and nothing but our own need takes over. Her eyes change as she submits. For a split second, I truly do own her, body and soul, and she owns me.
Undone.
It’s all I can think of as my seed pulses deep inside her. She’s not just the best fuck I’ve ever had, she is my rush. Things like jumping out of a plane seem dull compared to owning her cunt and mouth.
I stay inside her while our breathing returns, holding one of her legs up as she slides the other to the floor. She’s blinking back tears, and I lean forward to lick and kiss her eyes, her lips. What the fuck is happening to me?
She was not supposed to happen, but for the life of me, I can’t let her go.
BRETT
“Brett.” Richard waves at me when I enter the giant ballroom of the Beverly Hills Hotel for yet another fundraiser I couldn’t give two fucks about. Nodding, I turn right, heading toward the bar before I have to start schmoozing, which up until a month ago, I enjoyed.
Now, I’m distracted with Alexandrea and work, so listening to a bunch of rich suck-ups talk about how great I am means nothing.
“Double bourbon straight up.” I nod at the bartender.
“Make that two.”
I glance over at my brother’s grinning face.
“Nice of you to make it,” Jett says.
“I had an overseas conference call that ran late.” When I reach into my suit slacks for a twenty to tip, Jett beats me to it.
“Thank you.” Taking my drink, I down it in two gulps. “Another.” I motion to the bartender as I take Jett’s. He can have the other one since he looks so happy.
He raises a dark brow at me. “Ah, it’s that kind of a night.” Laughing, he orders us another.
“What’d I miss?” My eyes scan the room and land on Richard slowly making his way over, his head bent as he listens to something Skylar is saying. I grind my teeth.
“Christ,” I hiss as the muscles in my back of my neck tighten.
“Brett, Jett.” Richard approaches, along with Skylar who smiles at my brother and me.
“I have big news. Let me get Jenners over here.” Richard turns, motioning to a group of colleagues to come over.
Picking up my drink, I down the bourbon; it goes down so smooth, I barely feel the sting.
“Take it easy,” Jett mumbles as he smiles at the ever-growing group.
“So, we all know I’m retiring.” Richard puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m happy to announce that I will be leaving next week.”
I look up from my drink. He grins.
“I’m thinking we announce it officially on Friday morning. Have the students and faculty attend so they can see their new head dean.”
“The board approved this?” Jenners interrupts him, his face turning an almost purple with his jealousy.
“Dean Jenners.” Skylar laughs loudly, as if he just told a hilarious joke. Jett turns back to the bartender, motioning for two more.
“Is everything all right?” I turn to Richard. The entitled elitists swarming the gaudy gold and silver ballroom were already getting on my nerves. A server stops by, carrying what looks like tiny Gorgonzola and caramelized onion tarts.
“Brett, I feel lighter than I’ve felt in years. Diane has already booked our first cruise, and we’re leaving in two weeks.” He grabs a tart and a napkin.
