Page 40 of Delicate Storm

Stepping back against the door to stop it from opening, I lower my sweats just below my ass and release my length, both of us watching as it springs up between us, rock-hard and ready to go. “You wanted this? Now wrap that perfect little pout around me and suck.”

Paige opens her mouth and leans forward, but just before she touches my tip, she stops and glances up at me.

The vision alone has me twitching but when she speaks…Fuuuck.“As much as I love this.” She licks her lips as her gaze lowers to my cock again. “Next time we meet, bring a damn condom; I need to feel you inside me.”

Christ…I almost come on the spot.

“Earn it.” I wink, loving it when her eyes widen and her lips part in a gasp.

Where did this woman come from? She’s going to be trouble. I can tell.

I think I’m going to like this agreement. A lot.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Paige

Isit silently in my dad’s car as he talks on the phone, my mind drifting to my second session of mind-blowing fun with Easton. This time when we’d finished, he’d slapped my ass as he walked toward the treadmill and winked when I waved goodbye.

It really was that easy. We didn’t exchange numbers, didn't set up another time. It’s perfect. I can focus on my life, and he can focus on his. And when we see each other… fire-freaking-works.

“Fix it,” Dad yells, cutting into my thoughts. “This is ridiculous,” he continues and I feel for the staff member on the other end of the call. “I’ve only been gone a few months. How—” He cuts himself off and groans. “You know what? Never mind. Just fix it.”

He hangs up and his palm clenches around the phone.

“I’m sorry about that.” He cringes, sheepishly glancing my way. “As if I don’t have enough of a mess to clean up with the Storm, I now have issues coming at me from New York.”

He calls out to his driver before I’m able to respond. “Jeffrey, can you please detour to a coffee shop? I need a strong coffee.”

“Don’t they have coffee at the stadium?”

“I need something before I step a foot inside those walls.”

His shoulders tense and my brows furrow. When he asked me to come to his team's practice session today, he was upbeat and excited about it. Now you’d think the team was a burden. “What happened?”

“The new manager I hired for D’Angelo Construction just lost us one of our bigger clients because he didn’t agree with his political views. That wouldn’t generally be an issue, except that he thought it was a good idea to voice his opinion when he was drunk at a corporate function.”

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

“And that was him?”

“Hell, no. If that had been him I would have pulled over and asked you to step out of the car. You do not need to hear the words I have for that man.”

“Oh.” I cringe. “I’d hate to be him. But also…you were an ass to whoever you were talking to.”

“Oh, that was Chris.”

“Chris?” God, remind me never to get on his bad side. “Your assistant, Christine?”

“What?” His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No. That woman is a saint. I’d be struck down on the spot for even raising my voice to her. It was our COO. He’s the one that recommended Brock for the role. So he can fix the mess.”

“That’s fair. And the team?”

Before he can answer, we pull into a drive-thru coffee shop and Dad places his order. We’re silent until he has the liquid gold secured in his hands and has taken his first sip.

“Better?” I ask when he groans.

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