The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (8 page)

“Babe, I think you’ve mistaken Reese for Trent. Trent is married.”

My stomach drops.

“Oh. Oh, fuck, you’re right. Dylan, I’m so sorry. Shit, I really thought it was Reese. Honest mistake though, right?” She giggles nervously and clears her throat.

I drop my head into my hands. “Jesus Christ,” I groan, hearing a muffled laugh coming from my left, and suddenly I want to hurl myself out the nearest window.
Oh, God, this is awkward.

“Well, now that there’s no confusion, can you two love birds please get the fuck out so I can finish?” Ian utters through a laugh. “And lock the door behind you.”

“Yup. Uh, meet you downstairs, Juls.” I quickly open the door, beginning to make my way toward the elevators when a pair of hands grab my waist and spin me.

“Oh, no. I don’t think so,” Reese states, gripping my elbow and leading me back down the hallway and straight to his office.
Shit. He’s not married. Now what?

I’m completely unprepared for this turn of events. Everything was executed perfectly on my side. I slapped him, called him out on his infidelity, and didn’t allow his blinding good looks to deter me in any way. I felt powerful storming into his office and telling him off the way I did. But now, now I feel like a meek little church mouse as I cower in the corner of his office. He isn’t married. That’s not something I was expecting to discover, and definitely not something I was prepared to have to contemplate. I mean, what did we share together other than a hot fling at a wedding? There isn’t anything deeper going on here, is there? No, surely not. No one develops relationships from slutty wedding sex encounters. That’s not how those things work. If they did, Joey would be in a new relationship every other month. My eyes slowly trail up his long, lean body and stop on his eyes, which are curiously watching me. He’s regained his perch on his desk and hasn’t said a word as I fidget with my fingers, debating on where to start.
Fuck. I owed him a major apology.
I clear my throat and step closer to him, seeing him shift a bit on his desk.

“So, I was wondering if it was at all possible for you to completely forget that I came storming in here like a crazy person and assaulted you. If not, I’m not entirely above groveling.”

He tilts his head and strokes his jaw with his hand. Pushing off the desk, he bridges the gap between us. “Well, you did think I was a married man who was fucking around behind his wife’s back. I think that slap was justified from your point of view.” His hand brushes my hair off my shoulder, the small gesture causing my stomach to knot up. “Besides, I would hate to
completely
forget how incredibly sexy you look all feisty and pissed off.”

I laugh slightly. “You thought that was sexy?”

He nods and licks his lip as he stares at my mouth. I step into him, feeling his hands grip tightly onto my jeaned hips. “Well then, I could rip you a new one for acting like a total dipshit after you fucked me. It’s your call.” His chest heaves rapidly as I run my hands up his arms and stop on his biceps, squeezing once before flicking my eyes up to his. Hard muscles tense against my hands.

“Do your worst,” he whispers.

My fingers trail up the length of his tie. Yelling at him to make him want me is tempting. Really tempting. But he has, technically, already apologized for his behavior, and right now, I don’t want to yell. Not unless he’s fucking it out of me.

Gripping his tie in my fist, I pull him back behind his desk and push him down into his chair. “I choose groveling,” I declare as his eyes widen. Kneeling before him and steadying my fingers, I slip them into his belt, loosening it and unzipping his khakis.

“Dylan.”

My hand grips his length and I pull him out. Flicking my tongue across the head, I glance up into his eyes, which are now glazed with lust. My tongue swirls around the head and down the shaft, licking every inch of him. I trail soft kisses along the seam as his eyes stay glued on my mouth, his lips parting and his breath coming out in quick bursts.

“That’s so hot, love. Suck it hard.”

I smile and wrap my lips around him, guiding him to the back of my throat as he lets out a hiss. I want to take him completely, but that isn’t going to be possible. Not with what this man is working with. Wrapping my hand around the base, I stroke him with my mouth, sucking and licking as his hands find my hair.

“Jesus. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

His hands guide me at the pace he wants. Up and down, licking around the head before I take him in as far as I can. My hand strokes him tightly, gliding up and down his slick length as my mouth follows its path. His fingers brush down my temple, along my cheek and across my jaw. I keep my eyes on his face, seeing the muscles in his neck tense with each suck and his head fall back onto his chair when I lick the tip. He moans, thrusting his hips into my movements as his hands hold my head in place. I never was a huge fan of blow jobs, but the noises coming from Reese right now are making this insanely hot. I’m not just getting him off; I’m getting myself off. My thighs are pressed tightly together as I kneel in front of him and I know without a doubt that my panties are drenched. He pulses against my tongue. Sucking hard, I pull him deep and let him hit the back of my throat as I relax my muscles.

“Fuck. I’m gonna come.”

I pump him with my hand and feel his hot release shoot into my mouth, swallowing and feeling even more powerful in this moment than I did when I stormed into this office. His legs tense under me and his throaty grunts cause me to suck harder, pulling every bit out of him. He loosens his grip on my hair and gently brushes it out of my face.

“Holy fucking shit.”

I sit back on my heels and smile at my minor victory. He’s still desperately hard and I want to do it again, and again. Making him come apart with my mouth has been one of the hottest things I’ve ever done. Plus, he tastes good. Really good. I glance up into his eyes as his breathing steadies, his chest pulling at the buttons on his dress shirt.

“I’m not sure what’s sexier, you yelling at me
or
you groveling,” he says through a grin that’s as infectious as it is adorable. I smile and bite my lip as my phone beeps in my pocket. I quickly slip it out.

Juls: I came. Did you? Time to go, sweets.

“Thanks for lunch,” I say playfully, his smile still on his face as he resituates himself and stands, offering me his hand. I place mine in his and stand on my wobbly legs.
Holy crap, I felt like I
just came.

“That was incredible.” He presses his lips against mine softly, lingering for a moment as my phone beeps again.

“Shit. Sorry, I have a bakery to run. Later, handsome.” I pull away from him and turn to see him shaking his head. “Oh, by the way, I’d like my panties back.” I keep my hand on the doorknob while waiting for his response.

“Would you?” His voice is thick and causes me to clamp my thighs together. My urge to throw him back onto his desk and ride him is stronger than ever.

I nod and regain my composer. “Yes, I would. That pair happened to be a favorite of mine.”

He runs a hand through his hair as he smoothes out his tie with the other. “Too bad, they’re also a favorite of mine.” He arches his brow and I grip the doorknob tighter.
Holy fuck.
“I suppose I could get you another pair. Although, I’m not accustomed to perusing lingerie shops, and I might get the wrong ones. Maybe you should go with me.”

Oh, man.
The thought of Reese buying me panties is unbelievably hot. I can picture him, walking around and studying each pair with his curious stare, his hands raking through his hair when he can’t find the ones he’s looking for. I smile at the image, but quickly shake it off. I shouldn’t seem too affected by this guy. “I’m sorry, aren’t I standing in the office of a CPA? You’re a partner right?” He nods, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me. “Then a smart guy like you, who I’m assuming didn’t fuck his way to the top, shouldn’t have a problem finding them on his own. Unless, you
did
fuck your way to the top?” I cock an eyebrow and grin as he shakes his head, trying desperately to hold back his smile. “You can send them by way of your flour delivery boy.” His grin bursts through as I quickly exit his office, my cheeks burning from my flushed state.

“Well?” Juls asks as we make our way back to the bakery.

“Well nothing. He’s not married, apparently.” I keep a straight face, but feel like I’m radiating from the inside out. Giving Reese a lunchtime blow job has made my week, and I can’t get his reaction to it out of my head. His widened eyes as I pulled him out. His face when he came. The feel of his hands in my hair. I shake my head and snap out of my stupor.

She laughs. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to here. But I’m your best friend, Dylan, and I know that face. You like him.”

“I’m sorry, did you get the sense fucked out of you back there? I do not like him. He was my wedding hook up.”

“First of all, yes, I did get the sense fucked out of me as I always do with Ian. The man is an Adonis.”

“TMI,” I chuckle.

“And secondly, you
totally
like him; otherwise, you wouldn’t have cared if he was married or not.”

I shake my head. “Please. The only reason why I cared was because the idea of sleeping with a married man was eating away at me. Now, that feeling of shame is gone.”

She pulls up in front of the shop and puts her Escalade in park. “And now that feeling of shame has been replaced with love?”

I bark out a laugh and open the door. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We still on for drinks tomorrow night?”

“Hell, yes. Give JoJo kisses for me.”

I wave to her before stepping into the shop, spotting Joey pacing behind the counter.

His hands are continually tugging at the ends of his hair and he looks thoroughly stressed and irritated. Turning toward the sound of me entering, he drops his hands dramatically. “For fuck’s sake. I have been dying here while you two whores played castrate the adulterer. What happened?”

I walk behind the counter to join him and down my now completely cold coffee. “Calm down, you queen. We didn’t castrate anybody.”

He raises a brow suspiciously. “Well, why the hell not? Wasn’t that the whole point of storming over there?”

I’m about to answer when the shop door opens. Joey straightens up and sharply turns toward the door. “We’re closed,” he barks at the customer as I fold over in laughter.

“Joey.” I nudge him and he smiles. “He’s just kidding, sir, how can I help you?”

The gray-haired man smiles and moves up to the counter. “Good afternoon. Do you have any tarts? I love tarts and haven’t had one in years.” He eyes up my display case and taps lightly on the glass with his hands.

“I’m a bit of a tart, sugar,” Joey says in his overly flirtatious voice.

“Good Lord. No, sir, I’m sorry, I don’t make tarts. Although, maybe I will. What kind do you like?”

He smiles sweetly as his eyes light up. “Oh, all kinds. Strawberry, blueberry, kiwi, they’re all delicious.”

I giggle at his enthusiasm and pull out a notepad, scribbling down a reminder. “I’ll tell you what; I will personally make some tarts and have them in the shop ready for you by the end of the week. How does that sound?”

“That’s perfect. Thanks, sugar. I’ll stop in sometime on Friday.” He winks at me before turning and leaving the shop, the door dinging closed behind him.