“I’m not really here for you to delve into my background, am I? I’m here because you want to fuck me. So let’s just leave it at that.”
He’d hit a nerve. Something she didn’t want him to know about. But she was right. He didn’t know much about her other than she’d started working for one of the top sports agencies right out of college, apprenticed with one of the best agents, and pushed her way into getting her own clients by the time she was twenty-three. Right off the bat she’d signed some pretty impressive figures. Since then she’d picked up a portfolio of some of the best the sports world had to offer in a wide variety of sports—athletes from football, baseball, hockey, basketball, tennis, and NASCAR. She was known as an agent and public relations magician, and she was highly sought after. Athletes came to her, not the other way around.
But losing someone as high profile as Mick had hurt her, put a dent in her credibility. He wondered how much.
Actually, he wondered a lot about her, realized he knew nothing about her personal life at all. He’d never bothered to ask.
“Where did you grow up, Elizabeth?”
She didn’t answer right away, instead took a long swallow of beer. “Arkansas.”
His brows rose. “Really? For some reason I thought you grew up in the East.”
“You thought wrong.”
He sat on the chair across from the swing and tipped his beer to his lips. “Where in Arkansas?”
“A small town. You wouldn’t even recognize the name if I told you.”
“You’re a small-town girl? I never would have believed it. You have big city written all over you.”
“People can change who they are, reinvent themselves.”
“Is that what you did?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to get away from the girl who grew up in Arkansas and become someone else.”
“Who were you back then that was so bad?”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Gavin.”
She swirled her thumb over the top of the bottle. It was obvious she was uncomfortable talking about her past. But something made him push.
“Why not? Everything we are today is partly due to who we were back then. I want to know about you.”
“Why? Why does it matter? We’re just fucking. You don’t need to know me.”
“We’re not just fucking. We’re talking. We’re spending time together.”
She laid the bottle down and came over to him, leaned against him and smoothed her hand down his arm. “I’d rather just fuck.”
He could push her to answer his questions. She’d cave eventually. But her scent was hot and sexy, and her breasts were pressed against his chest, and okay, they were just fucking. He didn’t know why he was curious about her past.
Right now he was curious how far she was willing to go to make him forget the questions he wanted to ask about her.
She smoothed her hands down his arms and over his chest. “I love the way you feel, Gavin, the way you smell.” She raised up and pressed her lips to his neck, so she could stroke her tongue across his throat. His pulse kicked up a fast beat. He liked her mouth and he wasn’t a passive kind of guy, so he swept his hand behind her head and kissed her, tasting beer and mint.
The late afternoon sun beat down on his back. Sweat gathered and slid down his spine, but he wasn’t about to move, not when he had a beautiful, sexy woman sliding her hand into his shorts and winding her fingers around his hard cock.
It was still daylight, but there was plenty of privacy on the deck, especially since he’d pulled the shades down on the sides, leaving only the front visible. And with him shielding Elizabeth and the beach a hundred yards away, someone would have to come up to the porch to see what was going on.
Not that he much cared since she had a stranglehold on his cock and was stroking him with deliberate intent.
“You trying to kill me?” he asked, his gaze riveted to the motions of her hand.
“No, not kill you.” She stroked and squeezed, and it took every ounce of strength he had to stay upright. “Make you my slave, maybe.”
It was working. He’d do anything for her right now. Time to even the odds.
He unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it aside, revealing a light pink bra with lace across the top. He traced the lace with the tip of his finger, slowly, watching her breasts rise as her breath caught and held.
“Now who’s trying to kill who here?” she asked.