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“No,” he grits out. “Because you don’t do this.”
He’s right. But why don’t I? He and Fitch are two of the three people I’ve ever truly loved. Why should the prick who fucked me up be the only man I’ve done this with? “I would do anything for you.”
I wrap my lips around the end of his cock. It’s been over twenty years since I gave a blowjob, but I’ve had enough of them to know what to do.
“Motherfucker!”
Suppressing a smile, I take him to the back of my throat.
“Oh, that feels so fucking good.” He loosens his grip on my hair. I know how desperate he must be to hold my head still and fuck my mouth the way he does with Xander and Lily.
I shift my weight until I’m lying between his thighs and swirl my tongue across the crown of his cock, moving down his shaft and back again. His free hand fists in the sheets. Reaching up, I push a finger into his mouth, and he sucks, coating it with his saliva. I love that he knows me so well. When I slip that finger into his ass a few seconds later and press it against his G-spot, he grunts my name and comes down my throat. I swallow every fucking drop he gives me.
ChapterFifty-Three
WEST
“Hello, West.” Her soft sultry voice fills my ear.
I rub a hand over my face. “Alison, I need a favor.”
“A favor? From me?” She laughs. “You must be desperate.”
“Well, yeah, I am.” Beyond fucking desperate to fix at least some of the damage I caused.
She laughs again, and I can picture her sitting at her desk, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder, getting such a kick out of this. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to give someone a job.”
“A job?” She snorts. “You have like three billion employees. You give them a job.”
“I would if I could, but she won’t take one from me.”
“Oh, West,” she purrs. “Have you been a naughty boy?”
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look, she’s a great writer. She’d be an asset to your magazine.”
“So give her a job at yours. If she says no, offer her more money. Everyone has a price.”
Regret grips my throat. “Not this girl, Ali.”
“Oh, West.” Her tone is serious now. “Has someone broken your ice-cold heart?”
“A job, Ali.”
She hums but doesn’t say anything.
“Did you see that puppy farm piece inGenevievelast month?”
“Yeah, I read it.”
“That was her.”
She’s silent for several seconds, and I’m opening my mouth to beg when she asks, “That’s who you want me to offer a job to?”
“Yes, Lily Sloane. But she can’t know I had anything to do with it.”
She lets out a loud breath.
