Page 11 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

winning is what i do

Caleb

“ I promised you a blow job, didn’t I?”

“You did. You absolutely, one hundred percent did. I remember it.” Her deep chuckle flows through me like a poison designed to spike a heart rate and kill you in seconds.

Rosie Garcia is perfection personified. Seductive and stunning, but in the very next breath she’s witty and bold, and I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

The show earlier in the elevator had left us both ravenous.

She came so hard on my tongue I nearly exploded in my pants.

“Room. Unlock,” she pants as we kiss, her tongue velvety smooth.

She tastes like expensive champagne and bad decisions, and I want more.

I fumble with the key to my apartment as Rosie’s hands claw at my belt buckle, our lips never disconnecting.

The moment the door is open she pushes off, grabbing hold of my suit jacket and dragging me, almost stumbling through the door before she slams it closed and thrusts me against it.

“Awfully talented with that tongue.” She practically moans as she reaches up on her toes to seal her lips back on mine.

“So many other talents to show you.”

“My turn.” And with that, her knees hit the floor and my pants are at my ankles. Without hesitation, she pulls my cock from my briefs and runs her tongue seductively over the tip.

“Fuckkk.” A deep grumble makes its way out of my throat as I try to squeeze my eyes, ass, and balls to stop from coming too quickly.

I’m still hearing the echo of her warning, that this was only one time.

And while I am confident in my ability to wear her down and get her to make an exception, I’m also aware Rosie is unlike any other woman.

She isn’t going to beg, crawl, or drool.

Hell, if I challenged her right now, I’m almost certain she’d zip my fly back up, pat me on the head like a good boy, and saunter back out of here like she isn’t dripping wet and needy.

She is the most strong-willed person I’ve ever met and it’s both incredibly enticing and terrifying all at once.

When I look down into Rosie’s big, whiskey-brown eyes, she hums while taking me all the way to the back of her throat.

“Fuck yes,” I whisper, wrapping a fist in her curls and egging her on.

She wraps her hands around the back of my thighs, and with the pinch of her nails, she lets me have it.

Completely owning me with her hot, wet mouth, her hollowed cheeks, and lapping tongue.

A little moan and the squeeze of her thighs has my grip on her head tightening as I start to pick up the pace, and I nearly combust at the growl of pleasure she lets out.

All the approval I need to cut loose any restraint and fu ? —

“Caleb, open up!” The unpleasant sound of Lucas banging on my door interrupts the recurring memory of my dreams. Just as it was about to get really good, too, fucker.

I groan and slap a hand to my phone that rests on my nightstand to check the time. Five thirty in the morning. I’m an early riser, but can’t a man get a sleep in?

The knocking comes again, and with agitation, I pull myself from my bed, pulling on some gray sweats as I make my way to the front door.

I swing the door open, but I don’t get a chance to question this visit. Instead Lucas just strolls on through the apartment. A running tee, shorts, and backwards cap, the ink on his left arm looks shiny with the sweat coating his body.

“Jesus, the fuck you all wet for?” I ask before clearing my throat of sleep.

“You’re still sleeping?” He pulls the hat from his head and ruffles his messy mop of wavy black hair, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“The sun isn’t up yet and you’re asking me if I was still sleeping.” I huff, shaking my head at him. “You ruined my favorite dream, by the way.” He chuckles and follows me into the kitchen. I turn on the coffee machine and grab a cup, I’m awake now, may as well get ready for the day. “Coffee?”

“Sure.” He settles himself at the island and leans forward, his head hung in his hands.

“What’s up with you?”

“What’d you mean?” he questions, sitting up straighter.

“You obviously ran here, but like, why?” I push the coffee mug in front of him and lean against the bench opposite him, warming my hands with my own mug.

He just shrugs and tastes the coffee. “Needed to get out of the house. Feel like I’m always stuck between those walls,” he mumbles and avoids eye contact.

The enjoyment of watching this six-foot-five, tatted Italian get all twisted up over a twenty-two-year-old girl honestly kept me going most days.

“Not working out with Riley?” I query but can’t fight back my smile.

“What?” His head snaps up with a firm frown in place, like I just insulted him.

“Of course she’s working out.” He drinks his coffee and then huffs a huge breath and leans back against the chair.

“She…man, she has so much energy.” He breathes.

“She talks a mile a minute and has an incredible amount of word vomit. She seems so comfortable all the time, and the other day I saw her walking around in nothing but those weird little panties that are kind of like shorts and a ratted dude’s T-shirt.

” I lean forward, elbows resting on the bench, enjoying the fuck out of this story. “I guess I’m just not used to it.”

“Have you fucked her yet?”

“Fuck off. Of course not. Damen and I agreed she was off limits, we don’t want to ruin the housemate vibes.”

“So why are you over here getting all twisted up and frustrated, having to exercise no less, in order to avoid her?”

“She brought a guy over,” he mumbles, drinking his coffee and avoiding eye contact.

There it is.

“Ahh, and you’re jealous.” Straightening from my lean on the counter, I head to my room with Lucas following close behind.

“I am not jealous. The guy is a loser and an asshole. She is blinded by his looks…or whatever. I didn’t think about the fact that having a young female housemate meant I was going to also have a bunch of fucking idiots through my house.

” He trails into my room, walks over to the window, and gazes out at the city while I head into the walk-in closet to change.

“Why don’t you give her a taste of her own medicine and parade women around. I’m sure she isn’t going to like that.” I laugh and walk back out, dressed in a running shirt and shorts. I’m up early, might as well join him on a run.

“I tried that,” he says gravelly under his breath and then delivers me with an incredulous look.

“They became friends. Riley made her pancakes and they exchanged numbers.” Lucas has wide eyes, like he still can’t even believe it.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell a one-night stand to delete your roommate’s number because you don’t plan on seeing them ever again? ”

I have to cover my mouth to stop the laughing. He throws his head back and covers his face with his hands. “Honestly, man. Who does that?” At his exasperation, I can’t fight the laugh anymore as it tumbles out of me.

“C’mon, you can work the frustration off, let’s round the block a couple times and we can swing into JJ’s for a brew.” Lucas grunts an agreement and walks into the kitchen. I grab my AirPods and load up my playlist, but, of course, it starts playing before I connect them properly.

“What is that?” Lucas asks with a playfulness in his voice.

“It’s my Pump playlist,” I mumble back, trying like fuck to get the AirPods connected.

“No, no, no, that is Beyoncé.”

“Yeah, so what!” I respond with confidence, keeping my back straight. I’m a man who loves Queen B, sue me.

“She has fucking bangers that are great for running and pumping you up.”

It’s Lucas’s turn to laugh, raising his hands in defense. “I didn’t say anything.”

I grunt, rolling my eyes. “You didn’t have to.” I finally get the music connected and pop an earphone in. “Here. I’ll prove it to you.” I hand the other AirPod to Lucas and he looks at me like I’ve poisoned it. “What? You’re so insecure you can’t share music with a buddy?”

“Bro, you’re so weird,” he mutters, but takes the AirPod I hold between us. He tucks it in, heading for the front door as I load up the first song: “Formation.”

Lucas looks over his shoulder at me with a scrunched-up face and wide eyes like he can’t believe I’m forcing him to endure what is, arguably, pure magic.

“Jesus. You’re so boring. How about this, then?” I change the song to one I know will probably get him, “Rock and Roll, Pt. 2” by Garry Glitter .

“Better. But you’re still fucking different, man,” he mumbles, and we take the elevator to the ground floor, ready for a run.

Despite the early wake-up call, I feel super energized. It’s Friday morning, and I have the meeting with Christopher Andersen today. I am ready to rock his world so hard, I practically skip into my office this morning.

“Ready, Smith?” Noah asks from over the phone.

I don’t like that he feels the need to call and check up on me.

I want him to trust that I can run this thing without his watchful eye, but I get it.

This company is his baby, and the livelihood for his future.

I know he trusts me enough to run with my pitch, given that he had no notes on the first draft, but I wish he had enough faith in me to go in guns blazing without the pep talk.

“You know I was born ready for this.” I chuckle at him, leaning back in my chair.

“How’s things on the home front, you pop the question yet?” I hear ruffling in the background and something like a door closing.

“No. Not yet. I don’t know…maybe it is too soon?

I don’t want to freak her out. She’s had a lot going on.

She’s come so far, you know? I know that she’s it, I don’t doubt that she loves me too.

I just don’t want to rush her into anything.

Hell, it took her long enough to even go on a real date with me.

” I remember, Addy really had Noah working for it.