MY FIRST TASTE of her is intoxicating. Addicting. I don’t go easy on her—I can’t. I claim her mouth, pushing my tongue past her lips, and she opens for me with a small moan from the back of her throat. With my hand on the back of her neck, I pull her as close as I can, bruising her lips with mine. I want to fucking devour her, mark her so that when other guys see her they’ll know she’s been claimed.
I was ready to turn her down, this arrangement that she’s proposed sounded like trouble with a capital T. My mind was racing with how it would work, how we would manage keeping it a secret working together. Then she kissed me effectively changing my answer. No way can I turn her down after just a simple taste of her lips. I need more.
Needing air, I pull my lips from hers and trail kisses down her neck. “Crew,” she moans, and my rock-hard cock stiffens even more. I don’t stop kissing her skin, making my way to her collarbone and then journeying further until I reach the button of her shirt. Her chest is rising and falling, her hands knotted in my hair.
Lifting my eyes, I gauge her reaction. Her blue irises are liquid pools of desire staring back at me. Loosening her grip on my hair, she gently runs her fingers through it. That’s all the confirmation I need as I proceed to slowly unbutton her shirt. I make sure to lavish her with my tongue with the release of each one. When I reach the swell of her breasts, I just about lose my shit and take her hard on the desk. Instead, I pull down the cups and find pert pink nipples just begging for my mouth. Ever so gently I flick one with my tongue, and her grip on my hair tightens. I suck her, gently nipping with my teeth while rolling the other between my fingers.
“Crew,” she moans. “Don’t. . . .”
I switch it up, placing my mouth on her other nipple, needing to taste every fucking inch of her. Her taste is intoxicating and I want more. I want her naked so I can taste every delectable inch of her. Just as I go for another button, there’s a loud knock at the door.
“Berklee, you in there?” Zane asks.
“Fuck!” she hisses.
Letting her nipple fall from my mouth, I carefully pull her bra back up and cover her. She immediately begins to button her shirt. Once she’s done, she tries to stand, but my hand on her thigh prevents her from doing so. “Tell him you’ll be right there.”
“Just a minute,” she calls out, her voice a little shaky.
I cup her face. “So, we’re doing this? No one else, Berklee, not while we’re together. Regardless that this is not a relationship. I won’t share you.”
“We’re on the same page,” she says.
Leaning in, I kiss her, soft and slow. A promise of what’s yet to come. I want to lavish her body and I plan to. Very very soon.
I stand to my full height, adjust my cock and head toward the door. I flip the lock and pull it open. Zane is leaning against the wall.
“Hey, I was looking for you. The guys with the booths are done. You need to see them before they go?” he asks.
“No, but I’ll check it out before they leave.” I head for the stairs and fight like hell not to turn back and look at her. I have no doubt Zane knows what was going on; he is my best friend, after all. I don’t give a fuck. I want her, and after tasting her, this is happening. Nothing he says can change my mind.
The booths and tables are set up and a thrill shoots through me. The club is finally coming together. We’re ready to bring staff in and start training. Opening weekend is just a few short weeks away.
After I sign the invoice and send the delivery guys on their way, I turn to head up the stairs. I tell myself it’s to go to my office, but it’s really to see her. Zane is up there with her and they’re friends. I don’t want him giving her a hard time about what he walked in on. I won’t let him change her mind.
Just as my foot hits the first step, I hear, “Yoohoo, Crew.” My parents. I’ve been expecting them to stop by all week, and just my luck it would be the day that my mind is all wrapped up in Berklee. Then again, that’s pretty much been how things have been since the day I first laid eyes on her.
Turning, I head toward the front of the club to greet them. “Hey,” I say, leaning in to kiss Mom’s cheek before shaking Dad’s hand. “Took you long enough.” I laugh.
“Well, you know how things go. You get busy,” Mom excuses.
“We had to wait for this to come in.” Dad hands me a gift bag.
I take it from him. “You know you didn’t have to do this,” I tell them.
“Pfft, you don’t even know what it is. And we do it because we love you,” Mom fires back.
Dad just shakes his head and smiles.
I motion to one of the new tables. “Have a seat.” I remain standing, remove the gift’s tissue paper and pull out a frame. “This is great. Where did you get this?”
“The Internet. You know, you can get anything online,” Mom says.
I bite back my laughter as I take the gift in my hands. It’s a framed mirror that says “Club Titan” in fancy script. At the bottom, it has my name and the established date of this year. I’m not gonna lie; I’m a little choked up right now. “Thank you.” I force the words over the lump in my throat.
“I thought you could hang it in your office,” Mom says.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
“So let’s see it.” Mom stands and Dad follows suit.
I nod. Cleaning up the tissue paper, I place it and the frame back in the bag and lead them upstairs. “This is our lounge area, and the first door is Zane’s office.”
“Oh, is he in? I’ve not seen him in far too long.” Mom peeks into Zane’s office. “Come over here and give me a hug, you,” she tells him.
I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s not with Berklee.
Mom and Dad are in Zane’s office catching up, and since they see him as a second son, I know I have some time. I walk down to her door and peek in. She’s sitting at her desk, fingers flying over the keys of her laptop. Her lips are still red and a little swollen. My heart beats a little harder in my chest knowing I did that. “You good?” I ask her.
She stops and looks up, her eyes softening when they land on me. “Yeah, just making a few changes to the employee manual before you review it.”
I fight the urge to step inside. If I do I’ll want to kiss her, and my parents are just down the hall with Zane. I have to keep myself in employee/boss mode.
“Is this your office?” Mom says from behind me.
I turn to face her. She and Dad are standing behind me, and Zane’s behind them grinning like a fool. “No.” My voice is gruffer that it should be, so I clear my throat before saying, “This is Berklee’s office. She’s our club administrator or manager, however you want to look at it.”