The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (22 page)

“So, we take turns drawing cards, each suit representing something different. Hearts are kissing, diamonds are oral, clubs are stimulation using your hands, and spades are massages.” His eyebrows raise and he licks his grinning lips. “The numbers on the cards represent how many seconds you get to do that activity, for example.” I pull the top card and turn it in my hand, showing the five of hearts. Leaning in, I press my mouth against his and swipe my tongue across his lips as he moves with me. I savor his minty taste for five, well worth it, seconds and then break away, placing my card down on the table. “Oh, and I’ve kept the jokers in. You pick one of those and you get to fuck me.”

He rubs his hands together eagerly. “No time limit on the fucking?” Dropping his hand on top of the deck, he waits anxiously for my response with a raised brow.

“No, but I would like to play a little before we get completely lost in each other, so I’m hoping neither one of us draws one for at least a couple turns.”

He looks like he is about to respond, but quickly shakes his head as he picks up a card. I dance in my seat as he shows it to me. “Diamonds are what again?”

“Oral.” I lean back in my chair and spread my legs as he amusingly kneels down in front of me. He looks just as enthusiastic about this as I am.

“Count it out,” he says, slipping off my panties and tucking them into his pants pocket.

“I will be getting those back before I leave,” I state, praying he’ll actually refuse me.

“Good luck with that.” Burying his head between my legs, I wait to start the count until I feel the first lick.

“Oh, wow. One, two, threeeee.” He sits up and licks his lips as I reach the end of my count. “Stupid. I should have removed all cards with numerical values less than ten.”

“You should have. Three seconds between your legs is not nearly enough time for me.”

Picking my card, I stand up and walk behind him as I drop it into his lap. “Count please,” I say as I begin massaging his upper back and shoulders.

“Mmmm. One, two, three, four, five…” His numbers trail off as I rub down his arms, digging into his muscles and offering the perfect amount of pressure. I will never get tired of touching him. He’s extremely responsive to every little movement of my hands. I move around front and take my seat, pulling his hands into mine and kneading his palms with my thumbs. “Ten.” Slowly opening his eyes, he looks at me, completely relaxed and borderline sleepy. “I love it when you do that.”

I kiss each palm before I drop them. “I know you do, and I love doing it. You look so freaking cute when you’re relaxed like that.”

He picks his card and quickly sticks it back into the middle of the deck.

“Hey. What was that?” I ask through a laugh, trying to grab the deck as he brushes my hands away.

“Something I’m not ready for yet. Back off, Sparks.” Drawing another card, he flicks it at me and it lands on my dress face up. “Hands?”

I nod through a closed lipped grin. Reaching out and pulling me into his lap in one quick motion, my back against his chest, his fingers run up the inside of my thigh and between my legs. “Reese.” I let my head roll back against his.

“Count, love.” He slips two fingers inside me and begins rubbing my spot with his thumb in his perfect rhythm.

I swallow loudly. “One, two, Jesus Christ, three, six, Reese.” He laughs into my ear and slowly pulls out as I groan in protest. “I fucking hate this game. We should have just played strip poker.” I cross my arms over my chest after reclaiming my seat.

He quickly sucks on his fingers before he picks another card and hands it to me. “I like it.”

I snatch the card away from him and glance at it quickly, smiling at myself. “Not for long. You’re about to hate this game as much as I do, Carroll.” Turning the card in my hand, I reveal the four of diamonds. “Pull it out; I don’t have all night.”

His eyes widen as he reaches into his pants and pulls out his cock, holding it at the base. He’s impossibly hard already as I kneel between his legs. Leaning in and planting a kiss on the head, I hear his breathing quicken at the anticipation.

“Count please,” I say before taking him in as far as I can. I moan against his skin and feel the muscles of his lower body tense.

“FUCK, one, two, Dylan, oh, God, please don’t stop at—”

“Four,” I say as I give one last kiss to the head and sit back into my chair.

“Fuck this game,” he grunts and pulls me onto my feet, turning me around so I’m facing the table, his chest to my back. “I want this dress off.”

Reaching down with shaking hands, I grab the bottom of my dress and pull it over my head in one quick motion, leaving me standing completely naked. His hands reach around and cup my bare breasts, pulling at my nipples as I arch into his grip.

“I need you.”

“God, Dylan. Do you have any fucking clue what you’re doing to me?” His voice is strained and his breath is hot against my hair. One hand leaves my breast and grips my hip. I feel him between my legs, positioning himself at my entrance. I’m completely soaked and ready for him, but he doesn’t enter me. Placing my palms flat on the table, I lean forward and feel his mouth on my back, his tongue and lips caressing the skin on my spine. My elbows are shaking and I can barely hold myself still.

“Reese, please.” I need him in me, and wiggle against him, feeling his hitched breath against my back. His hand that is holding my breast runs down my taut stomach and rests between my legs.

“You’re all I think about,” he whispers so softly that I barely hear it over my panting. But I definitely hear it. His thumb begins moving against my clit as he rubs against my entrance with his erection. “Dylan.”

“You’re all I think about, too.” I drop my head down, somehow feeling even more exposed than just being naked in front of him. His hand grips the back of my neck and rolls me forward, giving him the angle he needs to push into me. We cry out together at that first drive, and he starts moving, harder and harder, faster against me with such force I think I might snap in half. Both hands move to my hips and pull me against him, allowing himself deeper entry and hitting every nerve in my body.

“Reese. OH, GOD.” I shake against him, pushing against his every thrust. One arm wraps around my waist and pulls me back to him. He’s still wearing his shirt and it slides against my skin, rising up with each movement so more and more of his bare chest is felt against my back. His tight muscles flex against me, the arm holding my waist contracting against my stomach. I reach above me and wrap my one hand around his neck, the other gripping tightly onto the arm around my waist. He’s so powerful, every part of him, and not just the way he moves during sex. He’s in complete control of every part of me and everything we do together. Fuck feminism. I need Reese more than I need my next breath. His words ring out around me, telling me how good I feel, how nothing has ever felt like this, how he can’t get enough of me. Everything he says gets me closer.

“Come for me, love.”

“Oh, God, YES.” My core ignites and strikes every nerve inside of me as we release together, his name on my lips as I fall forward and sprawl out naked onto his table. He stays in me, his head resting on the middle of my back as his breath warms my already heated skin. We remain just like this for minutes, neither one of us pulling or pushing away from the other. The only sounds filling the condo is our breathing. I finally begin to wiggle against him and he kisses me quickly on my back before pulling out, allowing me to stand and stretch my muscles.

“I was getting the worst cramp. Would have been totally worth it though just for the record,” I say as he picks my dress up off the floor and smiles down at me. Studying it quickly in the most adorable Reese way, he holds it over my head and allows me to slip back into it, kissing me quickly on my lips as my head pops through the top.

“Stay here,” he orders before turning and walking down the hallway and through a doorway. He walks back out and steps into another room, but now with something in his hand. The sound of running water peaks my curiosity and I’m about to follow him when he re-emerges, carrying a wash cloth in one hand and something else folded up in the other. Dropping to his knees in front of me, I yelp at the chilled cotton as he wipes between my legs, cleaning off what he gave me. “Here, step in.” I glance down as he holds open a pair of his boxers.

“Well, this could have been avoided if someone didn’t have a panty fetish.” He shimmies the cotton blend up my thighs and winks at me. Gripping the waist band, I roll them until they become very short and look like tiny boy briefs.
Mmm, please let me keep these.

“Yes, but if I wouldn’t have taken them, I wouldn’t be standing here looking at your hot little ass in my boxers.” He reaches around and smacks me. “Hungry?” he asks just as my stomach growls.

I embarrassingly push against it and he smirks. “Yeah, well, I didn’t put much thought into dinner since I rushed over here; so technically, it’s your fault I didn’t eat.” I walk over to the couch and plop down sideways so my bare feet are resting on the cold leather.

“Oh, is that right?” he says as I hear movement in the kitchen. I decide not to look and let him surprise me as I grab the TV remote and begin flipping through the channels. I stop on a cooking show and watch with interest as the host begins flattening out pastry dough. “Do you like spaghetti?”

“Yes, I love it. Are you actually going to cook me dinner?” I rest the side of my head on the leather and play with the hem of my dress.

“I’m going to heat it up. Oh, by the way, the guys at the meeting today loved your treats.” The microwave dings and I smile. “Those apple things were insane. I ate like four of them.”

I radiate from where I sit, and then the thought of the meeting brings back the smirk I’d received before I left. “Hey, there was this guy in your meeting today who came into my shop last week.” I close my eyes and try to picture his business card. “Umm, weird first name. Cocky. Thinks he’s way hotter than he is.”

Reese rounds the couch with two bowls and hands me one before he sits down next to my feet. “Bryce?”

I nod as I take in a mouthful of spaghetti, moaning softly around my fork.

“What about him? ‘Thinks he’s hotter than he is,’ that’s funny.”

I roll my eyes and chew up my bite. “This is really good. Did you make this?” He smiles and nods as he takes a massive forkful. “Anyway, he doesn’t work with you, does he? I mean, if I were to come and see you at work, would he be there?”

He chews up his bite and shakes his head. “No. He’s an investor, and I have to deal with his stupid ass occasionally, but he doesn’t work in my building. Why, did he do something? If he fucking touched you, Dylan—”

Slurping in my noodles, I hold up my hand to stop him. “No, he didn’t touch me. Jesus, Hulk, relax.” I earn myself a stern look and quickly swallow my bite. “He just came into the shop last week and asked me for my number, which I didn’t give him, and I didn’t like how he looked at me today.”

His eyes narrow and his fork stills in his bowl. “Did he look at you the way
I
look at you?”

I swallow my bite. “No. You don’t make me feel like I’m being mentally taken advantage of. But he doesn’t work with you, so don’t worry about it.”

His eyes quickly flick to mine. “If he comes into your shop again, I want to know about it.”

My eyes widen.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” I place my bowl into my lap.
Is he seriously going to injure every man who looks at me twice? Is he always this possessive with his flings?

“No.” He puts his bowl back down. Turning his body toward me, he pulls my feet into his lap, and his green stare burns into mine. “I have a huge fucking problem with guys putting their hands on you or making you feel uncomfortable. Don’t ask me not to react to that.”

I lean forward and grab his bowl, seeing one side of his mouth curve up as I get a fork full and hold it out to him.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” he asks suspiciously before taking the bite off the fork.

“No, I get it. I would slap a bitch if she put her hands on you or made you uncomfortable.” His mouthful muffles his laugh as he grabs his bowl from me. “But just so you know, I can handle assholes like Bryce. I just didn’t want to have to run into him when I come see you at work.
If
I come see you at work.” I grab my bowl and pull another bite into my mouth, wiggling my feet in his lap.

“If? No, I don’t think so. I like when better.”

“You only say that because both times I’ve been there, you’ve gotten off. It must be nice to have orgasms during your work hours.” I move my foot and rub it against him, feeling him twitch under me.

He arches his brow. “You know damn well that if I could escape my office to make you come behind that bakery counter of yours, I’d do it. And I don’t just like you coming to my work to blow me or get fucked against my door.” I loudly slurp a noodle into my mouth, making him laugh. My ringtone sounds through the condo and I hop up, grabbing it off the kitchen table and exhaling noisily at the name on the screen.
Oh, great.

“Hey, Mom.” I plop back down on the couch and squeeze the top of my nose. I have an awful feeling that I’m going to regret answering this call right now.