Breaking His Rules (3 page)

His lips parted and hung adrift as he regarded me. It was the most sensual thing I’d ever seen—the plump lower lip, and his tongue just barely visible. The magnetic pull was there, dragging me closer to making the worst decision of my life, I wanted desperately to resist, to hold on to this job. Just a few more seconds and I’d put an end to this crazy attraction.

With of tip of his head, he finally acknowledged me. “You know your designers, but what does that have to do with anything?”

I leaned in close, because my words were meant for his ears only. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about men who wear expensive suits it’s that they suck in bed. You’re probably no different than every other self-absorbed millionaire of my acquaintance.”

His eyes narrowed on me, and he couldn’t quite control his growing irritation as his nostrils flared for an instant. “Billionaire.” He corrected with the tiniest inflection on the “B”.

Oh shit.
He was an honored guest and I had overstepped the boundaries. But despite his anger, the sparks between us were flying, and my resolve was growing weak. So, I did the one thing that would kill all hope of a rendezvous at his place after hours.

I asked his name. “Pardon the offence, Mr.?”

“Baxter,” he said with triumph glowing in his eyes. “Damon Baxter.”

Bending the Rules

A
warm flush
stained my cheeks, and I closed my eyes for a moment to take a deep breath.
Exhale.
Had I really called my boss a self-absorbed millionaire? I opened my eyes and stared at his stony features, taking in the not-so-subtle change to his eyes. Where once there had been molten desire, there was now only cold steel.

What was left to do but push through the awkward moment with a brilliant smile? I was already royally fucked, so I might as well end my last night at Midnight Blue on a high note—with my legs wrapped around Damon Baxter’s head. He frowned at my reaction. Did he expect me to cower and apologize profusely? That was
not
happening.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Baxter,” I said, extending my hand. And I meant it. Maybe not under these exact circumstances. But still, the rumors were true. The man was magnificent, and I wanted to feel the powerful thrusts of his cock in my wet pussy. All was not lost yet. “I’m Samantha Rayne.”

His lips formed a grim line and for one breathless moment, I thought he might reject my peace offering. He expected an apology. But I refused to give it, because I wasn’t sorry for calling him a self-absorbed millionaire. Damon hadn’t corrected the “self-absorbed” part of my declaration earlier. We both knew it to be true.

His dark mood boiled down to one thing and one thing only. He wanted one night of pleasure between my thighs and saw the opportunity slipping through his fingers. Just as I moved to retract my offer, he grasped my hand firmly and shook. He probably wasn’t prepared for the gentle stroke of my thumb along the back of his hand, or the way I searched his eyes for some small sign that he still wanted me. Everyone told me my eyes were expressive, and right now I was telling him I’d sell my soul to the devil for one night in his arms.

I slipped my tongue out to wet my lips. His gaze darkened and I had my answer.

He stood abruptly and shoved one hand into his pant pocket. “When you’re done cleaning up for the night, meet me through that door,” he said, pointing me in the general direction. “I want a word with you.”

Then he strode away without a backward glance, or waiting to hear my reply. It took all my focus not to rush through the close process. I was a professional and always left my bar clean and ready for the next bartender. By three-thirty I had all the liquor bottles in their rightful place, the ice melted with hot water down the drain, counters wiped down and the full list of remaining tasks completed.

I made my way to the door through which Damon had disappeared earlier with sure strides, like I had every right to go there, but my bravado was lost on my coworkers. No one paid any attention to me, driven by their desire to punch out and rest their weary feet. Except for the platinum door handle, I wouldn’t have known the door was there. The rich wallpaper adorning the entire nightclub lined the door as well, effectively masking its existence. I slid it open a crack and squeezed through, using my bottom to close the door behind me.

A slow whistle escaped my lips as I scanned the opulent room and my feet sank into plush carpet. Deep plum walls provided warmth and a surprisingly cozy feel. It was swanky and private. Damon lounged on a cream leather couch closest to the fire; the one that afforded a direct view of the entrance. He took a sip of his drink and stared at me. It was then I noticed the decadent bar in the far corner of the room. Whatever he was sipping must have taken the edge off his earlier mood because he appeared calm and relaxed.

“Special privileges?” I asked, pushing off the door to stroll around the room, taking in all of the details.

“Something like that,” came his husky reply. He probably hadn’t intended for it to sound that way, but his voice was so naturally deep, I imagined he could say “flatulence” and it would still come out sounding as warm and delicious as maple syrup.

Who was this man and what inspired him? I wanted to know. A part of me wanted to sink next to him on the cream leather furniture—thick and plush—but I wasn’t sure I was welcome there yet, so I turned to the fire glowing in the marble hearth and listened to the soft music piped through a surround sound system that blended into the décor.

Was it coincidence that Rhianna crooned the words to “Stay” as I drew near to him? Something told me Damon never left anything to chance. With one sweet melody, he was closing the chasm I’d created. It captured the meaning of the moment better than I wanted to admit. An unwelcome yearning filled the space around my heart, stealing my breath.

I trailed my finger along the mantel, and glanced over my shoulder. There was more than enough room on the couch for me. He could have sat in one of the chairs, but he didn’t. Interesting that he’d chosen to meet in here “to have a word” with me. This wasn’t an office, but a room designed for entertaining.

“Do you rent this room out by the night or by the hour?” The saucy words were out of my mouth before I even registered my intent. I turned and faced him with a raised brow.

He bit the inside of his cheek, and I wondered if he did it to bite back a harsh retort, or to prevent a smile. In the end, he did neither but said, “
You
have a smart mouth.”

“Yes, I do.” I strolled toward him with my hands laced behind my back. His eyes drifted to where the buttons on my shirt strained against my full chest. Oh, yes. He wanted to explore the goodies beneath my blouse. My belly tingled in anticipation. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because you secretly adore my mouth, and want more. I bet no one else dares to speak to you this way.” Bending over, I rested one of my hands on his shoulder and then rubbed my free palm against the crotch of his pants, delighting in the rock hard evidence of his desire. Moisture built up against my panties as my eyes met his. “Like I said. You like it very much.” Leaning in, I whispered in his ear. “You’ll like it even more when it’s wrapped around your cock.”

He sucked in a breath and twined his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me captive with one look. His covetous gaze riveted me to the spot, and I knew in that moment he didn’t plan to fuck me. He would consume me body and soul.

“All in good time, Samantha.” He rasped, running the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. His intense gaze shifted there and he licked his lips. “First, I want to taste that vulgar mouth of yours. You spew venom, but I’ll bet you’re sweet.”

The last notes of “Stay” faded and a hot, funky beat vibrated through my core, bringing a genuine smile to his face along with it.

“Are you a ‘Rude Boy’?” I asked with a questioning eyebrow.

“Why don’t you come here and find out?”

My knees grew weak as he hauled me onto his lap to straddle his thighs. He hiked up my skirt and pulled me down to rest fully against his lap. His swollen shaft pressed roughly against my crotch, and I rolled my hips, increasing the pressure and allowing a soft moan to escape my lips. If it felt this fucking good with clothes on, I was going to shatter when he finally plunged inside me.

I explored the contours of his chest through his dress shirt and reached for the top button, anxious to feast on the masterpiece I knew lay beneath. He stayed my roaming hands with one of his own and a devilish smile lit his face. “Who’s the captain here?”

I giggled and grasped his shoulders. “You are.”

“You’re a beautiful and responsive woman,” he whispered, as his fingers blazed a path down the exposed skin of my neck to the top button of my blouse. He rested in the swell of my breasts and, like an electrical current, his touch sent a tremor of lust rippling through my body. “So effortlessly sexy. I want you. From the second I laid eyes on you, I knew I had to have you.”

He tugged my head toward him until my mouth was within a hair’s breadth of his own and stopped. Hovering and waiting. Showing me who was in control. Nothing got me off harder in the bedroom than a dominant man, and I wanted nothing more than to let him please me. I closed my eyes and surrendered completely to his will.

My whole body trembled in anticipation of his first kiss. Wanting. Wishing. And when it finally came, he did not disappoint. Damon Baxter didn’t do feathery kisses. Only unrestrained passion, powerful and all-consuming. Our tongues mated in a primitive dance—both wild and beautiful—and we were burning hotter than the flames in hades.

I pressed my tits against his chest and savored the soft vibration of his tongue as he moaned and devoured me. The deep, full strokes of our tongues set my blood racing. I met his fervor head-on. His heady scent washed over me, drowning me in a sea of masculinity. But there was something about his taste that pulled me back to consciousness. As his lips raked over mine, my mouth split into a broad smile. I sat back and stared at him.

“You made a dirty martini,” I said in an accusing tone. “To prove your earlier point?”

He chuckled and reached for his glass, holding it out for me to take a sip. His words mocked me. “Taste that!”

With great ceremony I lifted the glass to my lips for a sip and rolled the liquid over my tongue. “As delicious as its creator.” I took another sip. “What’s your secret ingredient? It’s there on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t quite place it.”

“I don’t mix and tell,” he said, nipping at my lower lip while his hands explored my back, rubbing up and down. A mischievous glint lit his eyes. “Mine is better.”

It was excellent, but I wasn’t willing to concede defeat. “It’s different.”

“You’re stubborn,” he said with warmth in his voice. “And right now, you’re all mine.”

My body tingled all over and I couldn’t stop the reaction any more than I could keep my hands from raking through his hair and pulling his mouth onto mine. His tongue was pure silk as it tasted and teased me. Before long the lips at the apex of my thighs were screaming for attention. I ground into his erection. He groaned into my mouth with an animalistic growl. Grabbing my butt cheeks, he lifted me off his groin before giving my ass a resounding smack. I gasped in shock as he massaged my bottom, kneading it softly. My pussy was soaking wet and begging to be fucked.

“You’re a greedy little wench, aren’t you?” he said, sweeping one hand along my inner thigh. He paused right above the lacy edge of my thigh highs, pressing his fingertips against my throbbing pussy. “Is this what you want, Samantha? Me to finger fuck that tight pussy of yours?”

My eyes widened when the pad of his thumb slipped underneath my panties. He dipped it into my wet cunt and spread the juices over my slit, until he circled my swollen clit in an achingly slow pattern. Fuck, that felt amazing. I nodded.

“Beg me,” he said. His gaze was fierce and possessive.

“Please, Damon.” I mewled and bucked my hips, melting further with every twirl of his thumb on my sensitive nub. “Please fuck me until I come all over those long fingers.”

“Good girl.” He slipped two digits inside and honed in on my g-spot, thrusting his fingers rapidly. His eyes connected with mine and I was overwhelmed by the desire raging there. “After I’m done fucking your pussy with my fingers, I’m going to lay you down and eat you out. Is your cum as delicious as your tongue?”

Oh shit.
Just the image of him lapping away at my clit sent me over the edge and I convulsed, gripping his shoulders as my orgasm ripped through me. His mouth closed over mine and he held me tight through the maelstrom, kissing me with a bittersweet tenderness. Soft, lingering kisses that calmed me and brought me back down to earth. When my body finally stilled and my breathing returned to normal, he pulled his fingers free and licked them one by one. I watched in fascination as his tongue worked the juices off.

“As sweet and sticky as cotton candy,” he whispered.

I leaned in and ran my tongue over his lips before dipping it into his mouth for a quick taste.

His other hand stroked through my hair as he gazed into my eyes and asked, “How did that feel?” His words were so gentle and held meaning, like he yearned to know how much he’d pleased me.

Out of this fucking world.
That was the absolute truth. But his ego was inflated enough, and I was in a playful mood.

“Not bad,” I replied with a shrug.

Damon threw back his head and howled with laughter. The sound was so rich and beautiful, flooding my senses.

“You would use my words against me? Your martini was better than ‘not bad’. It was fabulous.” His expression lost all its humor and he gripped my chin, holding my face in place. “You’re right to call my bluff. I like you, Samantha Rayne. But you’ll pay for that little bit of revenge.”

In one fluid movement, he flipped me with my back against the seat of the couch and I giggled uncontrollably. He held me down with his knee gently resting against my pelvic bone as he reached for his belt, unfastening it and pulling it free from his pants. He gripped the ends of the belt and snapped it. My heart leaped into my throat, drumming out a maddening beat. I liked my sex a little rough, but I’d never played with a belt before. The idea both thrilled and terrified me.