The Pleasure's All Mine (24 page)

Neither one of them could sleep.

Did her inexperience mean she couldn’t please him?
The fact that he got off on oral was cause for concern, too—she wasn’t an expert at that either. Not that she was a prude, but a man had to be someone special for her to wrap her lips around him. No one had ever been
special
in her book, and attempting to practice on her dildo hadn’t helped her much. She had no way to know if she’d hit the right spot, the rubber toy certainly wouldn’t tell her.

Next to her, Pierce’s breathing was shallow—he must be having trouble sleeping too.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

“How do you know I’m thinking and not sleeping?”

“Your breathing changes when you fall asleep.”

Pierce opened his eyes, hesitated a few moments as though filtering his words. “Why don’t I tell you what I’m
not
thinking about—deadlines. I’m not thinking about artists arriving late to shows all the time, artists getting in or out of rehab, keeping sexcapades out of headlines, and keeping secret lifestyles a secret. I’m not thinking about ass-kissers and groupies. And I’m certainly not thinking about the fact that my partner has been hell-bent on running our dreams into the dirt.”

“Then what are you thinking about?”

“You, baby. Only you.” He pulled out of her arms. “Get up for a second. I want to do something.”

Pierce picked up the mattress, maneuvered it effortlessly through the doorway and carried it to their private balcony. Moments later, Raven overcame her shock, followed with the pillows and comforter, then returned for that single condom. An expired condom was better than none, right?

“Now suppose someone has a telescope in one of those buildings over there and thinks we’re doing something…naughty?” she asked.

“Then they’d be wrong, wouldn’t they?”

“Maybe…” She lifted her eyebrows.

His smile disappeared. “Woman, don’t play with me. My dick’s hard enough to do a pole vault.”

“Okay, so now we’ve cleared up what’s been poking me in the side all night.”

“Very cute.” Pierce nestled into the soft swell of her breasts and closed his eyes.

She reached down and stroked his erection. “Suppose I want our Peeping Tom to be right?” she asked before giving him a demanding, searing kiss—one that almost shattered what was left of his control.

He lowered, took a nipple into his mouth while his fingertips tickled her center before stretching it a bit to accept him. She moaned and pushed herself solidly against his hand. He continued for several minutes, teasing with a single finger, then one, then two and three—she only loosened a little.

Slowly he rolled the condom onto his throbbing erection and inched into the soft heat of her, taking a bit of her wetness with him. He paused as she wrapped her arms around his neck, arching her hips to meet him, allowing a bit more of him to sear her flesh.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm.” A single tear escaped, running down her cheek, crossing down at the chin. Pierce caught it with his lips before it reached her breasts. He peered into her eyes, her vision blurred by tears.

He pulled away, breaking the glorious connection of hot flesh to hot flesh. She gasped and pulled him back to her.

Poised to enter again, he kissed her, then pressed the tip and a few more inches inside. He froze.

She lifted from the pillow. “What’s wrong?”

“The condom’s inside you. I’m not.”

Trying to find the small slip of latex, he felt around inside her. Minutes later, he hit pay dirt and placed the condom on his palm.

“Another slipped condom?” she inquired, shaking her head. “That’s exactly how Eric got here. It’s one of the main reasons I don’t do casual sex.”

“So, this isn’t just a fling for you?”

“I don’t have flings,” she responded absently, looking at the condom. “Do they make those any bigger than that?”

“Magnum’s as large as they come.”

Raven blinked. Her lips were pursed in grim determination, but her eyes still held a hint of fear…and wonder.

“Then we’re always going to have this problem,” she contemplated aloud.

“Afraid so,” he said with a sigh. “I tried stretching you, but you stay so tight, it’s almost unreal. You snatched the condom right off.”

“I was supposed to have surgery to…well, you know…deal with that tightness issue.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t feel I was active enough for me to go under the knife just for that.”

“If I didn’t know about Eric, I’d swear you were a virgin.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done
anything
,” she protested. “I mean, I masturbate—and my toy is a pretty nice size, too.”

Pierce almost laughed at how sincere that sexy little admission was. But his mind still wrapped around a way to protect them even though pregnancy wasn’t an issue. “Do you have a problem getting it in?”

She nodded. “But I also do those Kegel muscle exercises. Didn’t want the man I finally slept with to think I’d been whoring for a living because I masturbate so much.”

Now that straight-forward statement was funny as hell, but Pierce didn’t laugh. His dick was so hard and he wanted her so bad. She looked so frustrated, so confused he
couldn’t
laugh. He answered with a kiss.

She moved in closer. “Have you really wanted me since that night we met?”

He simply nodded, letting the intensity of his gaze carry his message.

Moments later, she pulled him on top of her, reached down, wrapped her fingers around him, guiding him back to her center.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a husky whisper.

Her eyes were moist and alive. Pierce’s fevered kiss brought her back to the moment, stoking her passion as he inched more of himself inside of her. She thrust forward softly, gasping as he stretched her.

They joined slowly, carefully, as though the world revolved around the connection of their bodies. She felt a sliver of pain followed by a slice of pleasure, and it continued on that way—pain, pleasure, pain—inch by inch until he filled as much as her body would take.

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the base, shocked. He wasn’t even halfway in. She swiftly gripped his buttocks, riding the wave of his rhythm with each slow stroke, building to a pleasure so intense she felt lightheaded, almost nauseated. “Pierce,” she breathed.

“Yes.” His response was barely audible.

“Pierce!”

This time, his answer was to capture her lips, his tongue tangling with hers as her legs crossed behind the fullness of his buttocks.

She held on for dear life, rising to meet his thrusts, soft folds of her flesh parting, expanding, grasping his hardness with every cell within her.
Damn!
A low, almost animalistic groan sounded in her ears and echoed around them as he almost lost control. He slowed his rhythm, then started to move his hips in a methodic circular movement, demanding her to follow.

The world shifted as he hit one soft sensitive spot again and again. As her eyes fluttered open, his intense gaze met hers. Her eyes shut slowly, only to open once more as his hips rolled, pressing his erection deep into that wonderful space—away—then in—away—then in.

She couldn’t keep her gentle scream muffled. She couldn’t keep her thighs from trembling, or her hips from following suit.

His rhythm increased, and a wave of pleasure crashed over her. She went numb from the waist down just before a spiral of tingling sensations spread from her womb, out to her thighs, then shot like a ball of fire to her toes.

“Sweet Jesus!”

The orgasm built like a steam engine and barreled down the track to the finish line at top speed.

“Pieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerce!” Raven gripped him, holding on, as his hips continued driving into that sweet place. Her trembling increased to a dangerous, almost seizure-like level, then stopped just as quickly as it had started. The blood flooding his erection allowed him to take her for a second pleasure-filled ride before a sudden lightheadedness assailed him.

Raven felt like she was losing her mind with the overwhelming waves of pleasure followed by even more thrills. Good Lord. All she could do was feel. And with him, she felt every single thing.

Several heated moments passed before Pierce rolled away, pulling her into his arms. She nestled within the hard expanse of his chest, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She glanced up at him through half-closed lashes. A thin sheen of perspiration covered his face and forehead.

She finally said, “I need a cigarette.”

“You don’t smoke.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I’ve always wanted to say that. It just sounds like,” she lowered her voice to a deep pitch, “the final frontier.”

Pierce laughed, a hearty sound that rumbled within his chest. “I’m famished. I’m going to get us some vittles.”

She followed him to the kitchen, where she watched as he soaped his hands and beckoned her to join him. Raven allowed him to stroke the soap over her hands then rinse them in the warm water—that simple act alone arousing her. He poured a tall glass of juice and passed it to her as he prepared a quick bite to eat—bread, meat, and cheese. He lifted up the jar of Miracle Whip and said, “Can’t forget this.”

“Yes, a sandwich isn’t a sandwich and all that,” she replied in a grim tone. “Speaking of sandwiches,” she began with a quick glance at his almost sleeping erection that had once been strong enough to take the door off the hinges—at least
her
door.

He offered her a bite of his masterpiece and she took a huge one and he chuckled at her full cheeks trying to tackle it like a pro.

Moments after they had made a dent in the food she said, “You didn’t have an orgasm.”

“It’s okay,” he managed to say around a mouthful of food.

“It’s
not
okay.”

Pierce kissed her forehead, then stroked her buttocks with a beefy hand before offering her the last swallow of orange juice and leading her back to bed. “Go to sleep, Raven.”

She didn’t move.

Groaning, he replied, “I probably won’t have one. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Then what does it have to do with?”

“Maintaining control for me means not having one. If I let my control slip, you could end up in the hospital…or worse.” He ignored her surprise. “Now go to sleep, woman!”

Get your ass down to
MEG ASAP!

Eric looked at the text message. It was 3:27 a.m. Anything important at MEG could wait—especially if it had to do with Simeon Cahill. He turned over and fluffed his pillow, poised to settle back into sleep.

Just as his headache disappeared and his eyes were at half-mast, the phone rang.

“Dang! Can’t a man get some shuteye around this camp?” He looked at his display and picked up. “What’s up, Steve?”

“I’m five minutes away from you.”

Eric jerked up, scrambling to find his jeans. “What’s going on?”

“Hell if I know. I got a call from Scoop and all hell’s breaking loose down at the office.”

“What kind of hell?”

“The kind that doesn’t come with its own extinguisher.”

Eric splashed water on his face. “I’ll be outside when you get here.”

Thirty minutes later, Eric followed Steve into the lobby of MEG. The place was nothing short of mayhem.

People were running out of the elevators crying and hysterical. Some huddled in bunches on the sofas, while others hugged in the corners, consoling one another. As security escorted two men to the revolving doors, another set of men bellowed expletives at the rest of the security force, who now stood as a barrier between the angry mob and the elevators.

The sun hadn’t even come up, yet it seemed that every single daytime employee was on the premises.

Eric scanned the area as he whispered, “Who died?” Then his heart slammed in his chest. Had something happened to Pierce? To his mother? He checked his iPhone, but nothing had come through.

Steve pulled one of Simeon’s bodyguards over. The man was still wearing the same jeans and MEG t-shirt he’d had on yesterday. “What’s all this?”

“Simeon fired e’rebody.”

“They were fired today, and they’re still hanging around here?”

“Naw. He called them all in at 2 a.m. and fired them a few minutes ago.”

Steve and Eric exchanged horrified glances. “What?”

Scoop shrugged, thick lips pulled into a frown. “He gave ‘em twenty minutes to collect their shit and jet.”

“What brought this on?”

Scoop scanned the area, as though making sure Simeon—or Vlad—wasn’t nearby. “Because Pierce hasn’t signed off on the deal, two distributors won’t renew their contracts. Word is out that Pierce is out the door, and MEG’s stock went dirty south.” His phone rang, and he looked at it. “Gotta go.” He walked on, putting the cell to his ear, while stepping over a weeping woman who was slumped on the floor near the stairwell. Seconds later, he turned back to Steve and Eric. “Simeon wants to see you two upstairs.”

Eric didn’t move. “What have we done?” he whispered, a hollowness settling in his soul. “What have we done?” Now he understood Pierce’s need to do things slowly, methodically, and with the least amount of damage. He’d wanted to avoid this very thing. Eric suddenly felt ill and off balance.

“Let’s get upstairs and see what this asshole wants,” Steve growled, moving toward Scoop. “I mean, at this point, what can he do? Fire us?”

“No, he’s done even worse,” Eric replied, trailing Steve, past security and to the elevators.

“I don’t get you.”

“He did this to hurt Pierce.” Eric gestured to the people still standing in the lobby. “He fired all the people who actually make this place run. I don’t think Simeon’s even realized what he’s done.”

“He will soon enough.”

Vlad met them as soon as the elevators opened on the twenty-fifth floor.

“Well, if it ain’t little boy blue eyes and his sidekick, little boy wonder.” Vlad smirked as his hand gestured to the office at the end of the hallway. “Right this way,
gentlemen
.”

Simeon was pacing the floor, tossing a baseball in the air every five steps. The moment he set eyes on Steve and Eric, his nostrils flared. “Y’all still want to play fucking games with me?” Simeon slammed the ball against the wall nearest them, barely missing their heads.