Page 22

Tina

“I don’t know about this.”

In truth, I’m unsure about the whole evening ahead. When Dustin told me about Christian’s plan for a team-building night for the gym employees, I thought it would be dinner, not a UFC fight. Talk about out of my element. Dustin, on the other hand, has been downright giddy ever since. I swear I even saw tears in his eyes when he told me about it. I wonder what I’ll see there when he gets a load of me in these leather shorts and Doc Marten boots Rosa talked me into wearing for tonight.

Rosa stands from the bed and walks towards me in her own less-is-more outfit of white shorts and a backless top. “Nonsense, you look hot.”

“More like underdressed,” I mumble, twisting to make sure my ass is fully covered. It is. Barely.

She shoves me towards the bedroom door. “Too late to change now. Everyone’s waiting.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to let loose on this trip?” I can see the error in confiding in her now. There’s nothing worse than having your own words used against you. She laughs when she gets a look at my face, which I’m sure hides nothing. She tugs on my arm. “Come on, I have to fly back home tomorrow, and I’ve never been on a party bus before. This will be fun.”

The party bus seats thirty and has two stripper poles. Stripper. Poles. What in the ever-loving…

A stinging smack on my ass gets me moving down the aisle. Rubbing my butt cheek, I sneer at Dustin over my shoulder.

His lips quirk up in the corner. “Going to give one of them a try, mouse? Your legs would look damn hot with a rod between them.”

There’s something about the leather material of my shorts making Dustin extra grabby tonight. This is the third time he’s found an excuse to touch my ass. I’m not mad about it, but I’ll never tell him that. “You are an HR nightmare,” I say, finding a seat, thankful it’s dark inside so he can’t see how his words have turned my face fire-engine red.

“So I’ve been told,” he says. “Good thing I own part of the company, huh?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t quit.”

He nods, looking thoughtful, which is never a good sign for me. “You could, but we both know you won’t.”

Damn him.

Pleased with himself, he plants his fine ass right next to me. When Cliff takes the vacant seat on my other side, Dustin looks a little less smug, and when Cliff throws an arm along the back of the seat behind me, he looks downright murderous. I turn away so he doesn’t see my smile.

Cliff leans in close. “You look nice.”

I elbow Dustin when he scoffs. For real, he could learn a thing or two about manners from Cliff. “Thank you.”

“Maybe next time we can do something a little less… crowded. Just the two of us.”

I tense, but I’m not sure if it’s from Cliff’s attention or because Dustin is tracing the hem of my shorts with one of his fingers. I don’t have to look to know it’s the same finger he had inside me. Ever since that night in the hotel, he’s made a point to draw attention to it. He’ll nibble on it during meetings, or use it to point out things, or, like now, he’ll run it across my skin. It drives me crazy. We’ve moved so far past an appropriate work relationship there’s no turning back. I bat his hand away and he chuckles under his breath.

The moment we enter the arena, I’m overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place. It’s dark and loud and, holy crap, there must be thousands of people here.

“It’s impressive, right?” Dustin says near my ear before stepping in front of me, protecting me from getting trampled by people walking by.

“People could get lost in here,” I muse to his broad back.

“You’ve read my mind.” He reaches back, collecting my wrist in one of his callused hands. He nods towards Lucius, saying, “We’ll meet you at the seats in a bit.” Then we’re dodging bodies so fast I can hardly keep up, but I don’t miss the recognition and awe on some of their faces when they notice Dustin. They begin to point and shout after us. Some of the women study me with envy and curiosity clear on their faces, holding their phones up, tracking us.

I hear some question who I am to the up-and-coming fighter. When they find out, I hope they tell me.

It hits me then how popular Dustin really is outside of our little town. I must say something about it out loud because he says, “You’re in the presence of greatness, didn’t you know?”

His ego knows no bounds, I swear. I really should hate it, but I don’t. I find it sexy as hell. He makes a sharp left, tugging me along, and my body is a quivering mess with all this caveman attitude. Jesus, I’ve lost my mind. Before I know what’s happening, I’m being yanked down a hallway and into an alcove, shadowed and completely hidden from view.

Dustin spins me around until my back hits the wall, cups my ass and lifts me off the ground. On instinct, I wrap my legs around his hips. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he growls nose to nose. “You won’t be going anywhere alone with Fuckface.” Without warning he slams his mouth into mine, effectively halting any response other than a moan so deep I can’t believe it even comes from me. Time seems to stretch as he softens the kiss and tastes every inch of my mouth—each brush and caress of his tongue ignites a spark that courses through my veins. His hold on me tightens like he’s afraid the moment will slip through his fingers, and I’m grateful because I feel like I could float away if he didn’t.

He pulls his lips away a fraction. “These fucking shorts…” His fingers slip under the leather hem like he did on the bus but this time he doesn’t stop until he reaches my center. He curses when he finds how wet I am. “Fuck, mouse. I want in you so bad.”

“Yes…” I barely get the word out before his fingers are inside me. It’s been days of flirty banter and nights tangling my sheets with hot dreams of Dustin and his talented finger. It’s a tight fit with the constricting shorts and the awkward angle but it’s fantastic. Utterly. Fucking. Fantastic.

He’s biting and sucking my bottom lip as I ride his fingers, chasing my orgasm with thousands of people walking around only feet away. I want more. I need it and, before I can talk sense into myself, I lower my legs and reach between us to undo the snap of my shorts and lower the zipper. I grab his wrist and shove his hand down the opening, then sigh when he begins working my clit like a pro. “God, I’m so close…”

“I know, babe.” He dips a finger deep into my center, rubbing the meaty part of his palm on my bundle of nerves. “Fill my palm,” he groans. “I can’t wait to drink you up.”

I cup both of his cheeks before raking my nails through the hair at his temple, knocking his cap off his head. “God, you’re so gross. Give me your mouth.”

The second I bark the order he goes berserk, pressing me harder into the wall, kneading my breast with his free hand so hard I know I’ll have bruises later. The thought makes me hump his fingers faster. The taste of him is like ambrosia and I can’t seem to get close enough. I want to dive into him and never leave. At the thought, my body tenses so hard it’s painful.

He pulls back far enough so we can both watch as he works me over. His jean-covered erection is huge between us, and I imagine it replacing his fingers.

His voice is rough with desire. “Let me fucking have it.”

And I do. All the pent-up lust comes rushing out of me and he captures my scream with another scorching kiss.

“I was right,” he says while helping me right my shorts because my hands don’t work yet. “Your legs did look damn hot with my rod between them.” Then, with his gaze locked on mine, he lifts his palm to his mouth. Christ, this guy.

“Wait,” I say, wanting to rock his world like he did mine. His hand is poised between us and he wiggles his fingers, waiting for my next move. His eyes flare when I begin undoing his pants.

“What are you about—” He curses when I wrap my hand around his dick. It pulses in my grip. “Fuck.” I guide his hand, the one coated with my cum, to the head. He catches on quickly, lubing his erection with rapid strokes.

“Make me your good little assistant.”

His free hand shoots out and applies pressure to the crown of my head. I willingly lower to my knees, meeting his challenging stare. I open my mouth wide and stick out my tongue. He mutters something before feeding me his cock. The mushroom tip, the engorged veins, my essence—I taste it all and want more. He goes achingly slow. I grab his ass and try to force him deeper, but he doesn’t budge. God, I feel like I’m starving for it. My mouth fills with saliva and he chuckles. I swallow around his girth to keep it from overflowing.

His body shudders. “Jesus Christ, woman. I’m not gonna last.” I hum, glad I’m not the only one suffering, and he glares down at me. Liking his response, I do it again. Our eyes stay locked as he humps my face. No more teasing. Over and over his groin bumps my lips like a slap. They begin to plump and grow sore. He pauses with his tip resting on my fat bottom lip. “I want to come down your throat, mouse. Will you let me?” I nod and he smiles. “Yeah? Good.” Then he pushes deeper until I feel his tip touch the back of my throat. “Hum again, babe.”

The second I do he seems to grow twice as big and warm liquid shoots down my throat.

When he’s empty, he slides free. He traces my lips with his thumb. “Good thing it’s dark here or everyone will know you sucked my cock.”

He’s so silly. Why do I like it so much? I smile and deflate against the wall. My body feels so relaxed I could curl up right here and nap.

He tucks his dick away and zips up. He tilts his head. “You okay there?”

Oh, yeah. I’m more than okay. I feel powerful. “I think I deserve a raise.”

Chuckling, he hauls me to my feet. Hand in hand, we exit the alcove. We make a pit stop at a concession stand and Dustin orders us both a lemonade Icee without asking if I want one. I’d love to refuse on principle, but I haven’t had one in years, and after everything we just did, I’m thirsty. He hands me mine and winks. “It’ll help with the swelling.”

The minute we take our seats I’m spooning the slushy past my lips so fast I get a brain freeze. My gasp gets Dustin’s attention. “I see you still eat those too fast.”

It takes me a second to respond because I can’t believe he’s acknowledging the Icee we’d get from the little ice cream stand back when Connor was still alive. “You remember?”

Something colder than my Icee replaces the soft look he had moments ago. “I’m not the one who forgets things.”