Page 13 of Nothing to You (Nothing to… #7)

“YOU CAN LITERALLY do whatever the fuck you want with friends that high up. Why wouldn’t you?”

“Right,” he said. “Knowing those at the top has its benefits. Also has its drawbacks.”

“Because you’re automatically tainted,” she said, returning to her pacing. “You celebrate the victories and are dragged down by their failures.”

“Which is part of the reason I don’t holler about it.”

“You keep it a secret.”

“It’s not a secret; I don’t advertise any of my friendships.”

“You know Zane Dyce.”

“Yeah,” he said, crossing one ankle over the other on the coffee table.

“Can I meet him?”

“He’s in the Pacific.”

“Ocean?”

“On an island. Not just floating around out there.”

Hmm. “For? Business or pleasure?”

“Business,” he said. “Pleasure if it presents itself. Guess he’s open to it.”

“Is he seeing anyone?”

He laughed. “Want me to hook you up? He’s not always the most outgoing guy.”

“I can’t even picture him,” she said. “He’s not like you.”

“Meaning?”

“You might not advertise your friendships, but you’re not shy about flaunting your women.”

“You know that because you work for me.”

“Which I only just found out.”

“No, you just found out you knew me. You always knew you worked for Xavien Rourke.” Valid point. “How did we get back to that anyway? Do you enjoy reminding me how pissed you were?”

“I was pissed because you murdered our friendship. You were there in this place I didn’t expect you to be. The presentation was stressful enough and then there you were. It was inconsiderate. You can’t make choices for me and shouldn’t make decisions for us.”

“If it feels good, it’s allowed.” And if life was that simple… “You weren’t stressed about the presentation; you lap that shit up.”

“I can tell it’s been a long time since you stood up in front of strangers.”

“I stand up in front of strangers all the time.”

“Strangers desperate to impress you. How often do you stand in front of people you don’t intimidate?”

“Oh, am I intimidating, baby?”

Was he? No, not to her. “Maybe if you hadn’t given me open access to your cock.” He flashed another quick smile. “You’re a long way from intimidating.”

“Good. I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

“I don’t.”

“You didn’t before you knew who I was,” he said, swiping across on his tablet. “Now it’ll be your urge to temper yourself. You did it today.”

“Being your friend does not mean giving you access to everything. I am allowed my own thoughts. Are you aware of that? Are you aware others can have private thoughts that you’re not entitled to?”

“Not us,” he said and side-nodded. “Come here.”

“No.”

His smile grew fast. “Come sit beside me, Babycakes. You’re not intimidated, right?”

“No. That doesn’t mean I want to sit by you.”

“What are you afraid of? We’ll watch movies. We watch movies together all the time.”

“And you always end up talking about sex.”

“ We always end up talking about sex.” His eyes glittered with that same mischief twisting his lips. “If it feels good…”

And it felt good. Just being near to him. Having his voice in her ears without the headset relaying the words. Maybe too good.

Going around the coffee table, she sank onto her knees, facing him again. “If I’m your best friend, I should get a raise.”

“Okay,” he said. The tablet went back to the arm of the couch. “And what do I get in return?”

“What do you want?” she asked, aiming for sultry despite knowing it was a loaded question.

“Know where I’ll start.”

He cupped her breasts, squeezing, pushing them together. He leaned in, opening his mouth in an inhale on the swell.

“Those are D-cups,” she said, tipping more of her daiquiri into her mouth. His teeth dug in deep, the gentle suction grew more powerful. “I get your obsession with my breasts now. All those supermodels from your past would barely fill an A-cup collectively.”

He slurped his mouth free, though his tongue wasn’t so quick to depart. It trailed to the edge of her top. “I date underwear models too.”

“Playmates?”

“Back in the day,” he said with a semi-shrug. “I can make a call if you’re interested in a career change.”

“Are you kidding? I just got a promotion. Where are we on that raise?”

“Want the house?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen all of it yet.” As he drew the straps of her top down, she stretched her shoulders back, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. “Why have none of you wealthy bigwigs put money into developing contraceptives for men?”

“It’s a woman’s responsibility.” Pig. “You don’t want to have a kid? Either protect yourself or keep your legs closed.”

“And if a man doesn’t want children?”

“We’re biologically driven to spread our seed. It diminishes our manhood to limit our fertility.”

“You’re a dick.”

She gulped down some more of her daiquiri.

“With a dick,” he said, taking her glass to put it on the coffee table.

And this guy thought that meant, what? That he was in charge?

“One that doesn’t rule the world. You can’t just go around doing whatever you want, ruining women’s lives for the sake of a few seconds of pleasure.”

“A man has a right to make decisions about his progeny. If a man’s generous enough to put a child in you—”

“Generous enough?” she said, grabbing his shoulder to shove him back.

He groaned in deep ecstasy. “Temper, temper, baby.”

Riling her was his favorite hobby. “If a man wants to make the decisions,” she said, grabbing a handful of his hair, “he first has to take the decision to control his seed. If we had male contraceptives—”

“The long-term effects could have a bearing on our later fertility.” He dared her with a brow arch. “Would you deny a man his right to ever have a child?”

“Any new drug requires study to prevent negative side effects. Instead of delving into the more responsible course, you prioritized Viagra research.”

“Personally? I didn’t. It’s not something I need and I’m not in pharmaceuticals. No one consulted me on that decision,” he said. “You know who is in the medical field? Your friend at work. Maybe lay this on him tomorrow.”

She sighed, mocking in her disappointment. “You sow the seeds of discontent…”

“Why would I do that?” he asked, fondling and kneading her breasts. “Your ire’s mine. Your indignation. Your incredulity. I prefer it focused on me. I’m the only man who can keep you under control.”

Is that what he was doing? Because she was the one with her fingernails in his scalp. “You’re a masochist.”

“Only if it turns you on,” he said, ducking to kiss one breast then the other.

“I must be one too. I keep showing up.” And her fingers loosened, combing up into his hair again. “Our friendship. Our rules.”

“Mm hmm,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.

“We’ve never agreed on anything.”

“Then we’ve got to keep sparring, don’t you want to know who comes out on top?”

Her hands drifted down to his body. “I want a raise.”

“You get one after I get one.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his tee-shirt. As he straightened her leg over his lap, slanting her back, she yanked his shirt over his head.

He swooped as though to kiss her, but she dropped onto her elbows. “Ah ah,” she scolded, wagging a finger at him before picking up his hand to guide it to the zipper on her pants.

Smiling, it was clear he relished drawing it down and taking her panties off right along with the pants that disappeared over the back of the couch.

“You prepped for me,” he said, smoothing his fingers down the crease of her leg to her smooth folds beneath.

“I prepped for me, Boy Scout,” she said. “You have to pass the audition before your cock gets its part.” The searing heat in his gaze sped her heart as the huff of his shallowing breaths fogged her body. “Your cock want the part, baby?”

“Oh, he does. I’m not worried.” And as the length of his finger slid against her clit, he curled the tip just to circle her entrance, and drew it back.

Up and down, just like that in long, slow, strokes that tightened some muscles and loosened others.

“Damn wet already, baby. She’s so happy to come out and play. ”

“You know what will make her wetter? Happier? So much more grateful?” On a sigh, she sank onto her back and raised her hips, undulating with his caress. “Your tongue, Boy Scout.”

“If it feels good…” he grumbled, the warmth of his mouth a whisper from her pubis.

“It’s allowed,” she exhaled because what other choice did she have?

He kissed her there and ran the stubble on his jaw down the curve of her body.

Shit. Had she told him she liked that? The rasp of that rough hair on her most sensitive corner.

He shifted. She heard it but, with her eyes closed, didn’t see the new position.

She let him raise her leg over his shoulder and breathed out in bliss when he kissed her inner thigh, taking his time in crossing the other and skipping her clit.

That didn’t matter.

If he hadn’t learned it already, she wasn’t shy. He was an added extra, not a necessity.

Raising her knee, the sole of her foot skimmed up his shoulder blade.

Her fingers sank into his hair, enjoying the sensation of his soft locks in contrast to the shadow on his jaw.

But that wasn’t her only pleasure. Her other fingertips descended her abdomen and touched her clit.

Rubbing herself in gentle circles, the flood of her juices sped her widening caress.

But he kissed her nails and forced his tongue between them, riding the motion of her hand with his own tease.

“Mmmm…” she groaned.

The motion of her body worked against the delight of his mouth. His tongue retreated, slid lower, and thrust into her. On a gasp, she arched, forcing his mouth so close his teeth rasped her flesh.

“Easy, babygirl.”

“No,” she whined, her fingers working faster. “I’m close. Oh, fuck I’m—”

“You’ll go when I say,” he commanded, snatching her hand away, pinning it on the couch as he drew her clit between his lips. “I’m in charge here. You want me in charge.”

“I want you working for me. You get me off or I’ll go downstairs and—oh!”