Page 16 of Ruthless Riches
The tip of Alexis’s tongue darted out to lick her lips. “Who said anything about sex?”
She slowly lowered her head, and I finally realized what she had in mind. “This doesn’t count,” she whispered, freeing my erection.
I braced my hands on the edge of the seat and sucked my teeth, watching her run the tip of her tongue over the end of my shaft. “Oh, fuck,” I growled. “Do that again.”
I’d missed this so much; the feeling of her warm tongue tracing smooth, slick lines along the sensitive underside of my dick.
She glanced up at me for a second, eyes wide with faux innocence. Then her head was a bobbing mass of shiny hair between my legs, working my cock hard and fast.
The sound of a nearby engine made me glance up. Tall evergreens and shrubs blocked the south part of the road from sight, but anyone coming in the opposite direction would be able to see us as they passed. They’d know exactly what we were up to.
The thought of getting caught sent an electric thrill through my veins, stoking the fire inside me. I lifted one hand off the seat and threaded it in Alexis’s hair, pushing my hips upward until I almost hit the back of her throat. She kept going, licking and sucking me until I shuddered.
The car passed us without incident. I was almost disappointed, but it was impossible to feel anything negative while my cock was sliding in and out of Alexis’s plump pink mouth.
As she sucked, she began to use one hand to pump the rest of my length, worshiping every inch of me. Another throaty groan escaped my throat as a small burst of pre-cum shot out onto her tongue.
A few more bobs of her head brought me to the edge. I hissed out a deep breath and roughly tangled my fingers in her hair as I began to unravel, pushing my cock even deeper in her throat.
When I finally came, she swallowed it all down, greedily milking every last drop. Then she returned to her seat, one hand wiping away the pink lip gloss that had smeared on one corner of her mouth.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, sagging against my seat. “I fucking owe you.”
She arched a brow. “You can pay me back when we get home,” she said in a teasing tone.
I started the car and pulled back onto the highway. We reached our destination ten minutes later.
Unease twisted my guts as I stared up at the two story house Edith shared with her husband. With its white shingles and vintage cast iron brackets on the porch, it looked almost identical to the Thunder Bay house that Alexis grew up in.
Seeing this place would probably bring up all sorts of nasty memories for her—the way she and her family were hounded out of their own home by the press after her father’s arrest, and the way my uncle Greg treated her when he took her from me and kept her there.
I squeezed her hand tightly as she stared up at it. “Hey,” I murmured. “I’m here.”
She looked up at me with a faint smile. “I know.”
We stepped up onto the porch and knocked on the front door. A man with thinning gray hair opened it a moment later.
“Mr. Hawksley?” I said, raising my brows.
He nodded and smiled. “Call me Robert,” he said. “I’ve just put on a pot of coffee. Would you like some?”
Alexis returned his smile. “Sure.”
He let us in and shuffled into the spacious kitchen off to the right. When he returned, he held a tray of steaming mugs. “Usually I’d suggest we take this out to the back porch so we can enjoy the view, but it’s a miserable day today, so it looks like we’re stuck in here.”
“That’s fine,” Alexis said. “Your house is beautiful.”
He smiled again and set the tray on the living room coffee table. “That’s my wife’s doing. She’s got an eye for interior design. I’ve always been more focused on exteriors.”
I sat down. “She mentioned that you designed the layout of Beverley Cove.”
“That’s right. It was one of my favorite projects,” he said, eyes twinkling with pride. “Anyway, she said you two are interested in Satan’s Penthouse.”
“Yes. She thought you might’ve heard a thing or two about it while you worked at City Hall.”
Robert nodded as he sank into the floral-patterned sofa across from us. “I certainly did,” he said. “Edith’s always thought the stories about it were a load of baloney. But I can tell you—that place is real.”
My brows lifted. “Are you sure?”
