End Game (12 page)

He quirks an eyebrow. “Why not? Because it’s wrong? Because I’m wrong?”

He takes my hand and squeezes it, bringing it to his lips to kiss. The stubble of his cheek scratches against my skin and I feel a sear of warmth like a hot brand sizzling into my flesh.

This guy is totally fucking with my head.

“Yeah, both.” I snatch my hand back and tighten the towel around myself. “All of the above.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, Marisa. I want you and you want me, don’t try to deny it. And we made a deal last night, if you recall.” The dimples in his face deepen as he smiles, his eyes shining.

My back hits the cold walls as he corners me, moving his fingers up my damp arm. I swallow hard, trying to avoid his eyes. Inside my body, there’s a furnace I’m trying to dial down. “Yeah, while I was drunk.”

“You asked me to come inside, and I refused because I was trying to do the right thing. Then you made me realize—why am I trying to be the good guy?”

Now blood pounds in my ears as I search his face, waiting for something to happen. The heat between our bodies is undeniable. His heavy gaze makes me hot all over. A smooth hand wraps around my waist, the fingers bunching in the fabric. Then he yanks and the towel slips down to my stomach, exposing my breasts.

“Joe!”

The towel falls to the tiles around me feet like a puddle and I wrap my arms around my breasts and groin, trying to hide what he uncovered. My heart jack-knifes into my chest and his eyes rove down my body at all the curves unhidden by my hands.

I’m
naked
.

He’s fully dressed.

It’s embarrassing. It’s infuriating. It’s—

“Sexy.”

Joe’s wolfish grin makes my heart pound. I don’t resist as powerful hands pull my bare waist closer to his body. The feeling of his hands on my skin feels too fucking good. His hot mouth is on my neck, his hand buried in my hair as the other grabs my ass. Ragged, deep breaths fill the bathroom as he tugs the arm covering my breasts and it falls away with little resistance. His hand creeps up my abdomen and I bite my lip, not used to the waves and waves of feelings that he’s giving me. Then he grabs my breast in his whole hand and squeezes, and finally I let out a gasp. It’s like an electric current, running down to the glow between my legs. He pinches my nipple roughly and I find his mouth instinctually, both of us guided by something raw and primal.

I wrap my arms around his neck and launch myself towards him, greedy for every feeling he gives me. He smiles against my lips and pins me against the wall, moving his hand back down my curves. He cups my mound and another electric current surprises me. The fingers move centimeter by centimeter, teasing as I curl my fingers in his hair, nearly tearing out the strands. Then he strokes the wet, glistening area that burns with desire and his laughter hisses in my ear.

“Admit it. You want me.”

I shudder and utter a loud gasp. His middle finger strokes my clit, and I feel myself squeezing and clenching to desperately fill the ache inside.

“I’m staking a claim. You’re mine from now on.”

Excuse me? I don
’
t belong
—
oh, God.

His finger finally slips inside my pussy, curving up to stroke the bed of nerves that call out for something thick and hard.

Jesus. I’ve never known a man like him. He manipulates my body as if he’s known it for years. His other hand pinches my nipple and I arch my back into him, uttering a strange noise. Holy fuck, it feels incredible. It’s beginning to be too little. I want more of him, but he won’t give it to me.

“Joe,
please
.”

“Tell me that you belong to me, and I’ll get you off.”

Belong to him? What does that even mean? I look up into his eyes, but there’s no humor in them. He’s dead serious. His finger twists inside me and another agonizing wave of pleasure burns through my veins.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ll be my
comare
.”

“What?” I have no idea what that is. It’s an Italian-sounding word that sounds beautiful when it rolls from his lips.

His lips twitch. “Aren’t you Italian?
Comare
. No strings.”

“Sounds like a mistress.”

“Don’t get hung up on the word. It’s just sex and fun.” He lowers his face and kisses my cheek. “I think we could both use a little of that.”

Fun.
I’ve almost forgotten what the word means. I tried having fun the other day when I went barhopping with some of my old college acquaintances. It wasn’t fun, not until Joe showed up, at least. As for sex, it’s been several
long
years since I’ve had any.

This is the closest I’ve gotten to it in a long time, and now he’s staring me down as he plays with my clit, even though he feels how badly I want him. Christ, this is insane. These people don’t care about me. Even Joe, who pretends to be sensitive and sweet—would hurt me if his boss gave the order.

It
’
s just sex. It doesn
’
t have to mean anything.

“Just fun?”

Joe smiles and warmth stirs in my chest as he looks at me lazily, almost as if he’s drunk on my arousal. “Yeah, just fun.”

I’m not thinking clearly, and I think Joe’s counting on that fact. His hand strokes my clit. How am I supposed to make a sound decision?

“Okay.”

The moment my whisper leaves my mouth, he inserts a third finger inside me. My breaths are high-pitched as he leans against me, his shirt damp from my body. His mouth fastens over my neck and he sucks hard as he fucks my pussy with his hand. The slick, wet sound fills the bathroom and I reach down his shirt to the bulge in his jeans. His eyes roll back as I sweep my fingers over him and squeeze. Jesus Christ, he’s huge. Where does it end?

“Damn, you got me hard.”

He bites down on my neck and my body arches into him. I can feel his fingers inside my slick walls, curving upward, getting me to moan into his chest like I’ve never moaned before.

“Fuck me. Please.”

Joe’s hand pauses inside me and he looks at me, his lips trembling. “I want to, but you have somewhere to be.”

Somewhere to be?

Oh, right.

I don’t fucking care about anything anymore, except the feeling of his fingers inside me and how his lips taste slightly sweet and the rock-hard cock in my hands. It would feel so amazing inside me. Joe never stops moving his hand. It pumps inside me, unable to fill me completely, but striking that ultra-sensitive spot that makes me suck in harsh breaths. I fumble with his jeans and manage to unbutton him, and then I slip my hand underneath the soft fabric of his boxers. Joe hisses as my palm comes in contact with his abdomen and then I slide down, into the bed of bristly hair and I wrap my fingers around him. God, it’s so hard. It’s so long. How can he fit it inside his pants? Reaching down, I trace my fingers around the head of his cock. A tiny bead of wetness makes the head slick, and I roll it around his cock.

The hand between my leg pauses as he takes my hand out of his pants. He raises it to his lips and kisses it, shaking his head with a brilliant smile. “Not today, sweetheart.”

“Why not—ah!”

He plunges inside immediately, and I’m so close that I fist my hands in his hair and pull.

“You are
so
fucking wet.”

“Oh my God!”

His mouth is on my neck again and then I feel it. It’s like a seismic wave shattering the earth. I feel broken. The fingers strike the sensitive wall and my pussy clenches around his hand as relief floods me. I can’t fucking take it. Joe lets out a grunt as I yank his hair, crying out to the ceiling as he kisses my neck and rubs my swollen clit.

“
Fuck
me.”

His warmth disappears as he steps away from me, breathing hard. His jeans are undone and his cock is livid against his boxers. Joe’s lips part as he watches me slump down the wall. My orgasm shakes through my body and I look at him under heavy eyes, wishing I could give him the same pleasure.

Joe walks closer tentatively, the hesitation in his footsteps. I lean forward on my knees and touch his legs, which feel so solid next to me. “It’s your turn, Joe.”

“You’re fucking right,” he says in an abrasive voice.

I pull his jeans all the way down and run my hands over his legs, which are covered with fine, black hair. He tugs his boxers down and his cock bounces free, massive and thick. His hand drops to my head, moving over my hair in a gentle caress.

“Have you ever sucked cock before?”

I look up at him from my knees, blushing hard as I witness his terrifyingly dark face harden. The way he talks to me is so degrading, and I feel a wave of self-disgust for actually
liking
it. He’s already controlling me.

“I—not really.”

“Well, that’s fine. You’re good at obeying orders, aren’t you? Just do what I say.”

His harsh voice rings out in the bathroom, slightly condescending as he looks down at me. His hand digs into my hair. “Open your mouth.”

My lips tremble as he wavers in front of me. How the hell am I supposed to fit that in my mouth? My experience nil, I’ve always found the idea of blowjobs disgusting. Despite that, I’m curious. It makes me excited to see him so turned on, and I want to give him more. My tongue reaches out tentatively and I graze the soft head. It tastes like clean skin.

Relieved, I open my mouth wider and Joe slowly pushes himself inside my mouth. His thickness stretches my mouth, almost to the point where it’s uncomfortable.

“Now stick out your tongue.”

I feel the hairs on my head separating as he clenches tight, groaning as I comply with his order. As my saliva thickens around his cock, I’m able to move back and forth more easily.

“Suck the head,” he says in a strained voice. “Good.”

My lips tighten around him as I suck, and he moans in response. Even though I’ve just had an orgasm, my body starts to heat up at the sound of deep-throated pleasure. My nipples peak and he begins to thrust slowly. I’m at the complete mercy of this man. He’s owning my body, because he can get me to do things I never even wanted to do. Maybe it’s his throaty voice or his unswerving confidence. He sucks in breath as I force myself to accommodate all of him. Joe’s hands tense in my hair and he makes a loud grunting sound and then he pulls out, his face red. I watch in fascination as he pumps his cock with his hand rapidly, and then thick ropes of cum shoot out, draping over my chest. The room echoes with his strained breaths and he sinks to his knees, grabbing my head to give me a fierce look. His breath billows over my face.

Then he crushes himself against my lips, his tongue forcing inside my mouth. I’m breathless, astounded with how crazy this man makes me. His hand gropes my breast and I moan against his mouth.

“Your lips were made to give blowjobs.” He smiles and pulls back, tucking himself into his boxers.

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

He seizes my jaw and kisses me again. “The pleasure was all mine.”

* * *

How awkward is this?

I sit in his car, my cheeks probably a permanent stain of beet-red as I look outside the car window, because I can’t look at him.

I’ve completely fucking lost it.

How else can I explain the freak fest that happened in my apartment? No matter how hot it was, I shouldn’t have done it.

I steal a glance at him. Joe looks at ease as he drives the car, as if he gets blowjobs from strange women all the time, which makes my stomach clench.

He probably does. This isn’t a big deal for him.

It’s a big deal for me. I’ve never been a friends-with-benefits.

Are we even friends?

Christ, this is weird. I’m totally out of my element. I have no idea what I’m supposed to
do
. How am I supposed to act around him?

His voice cuts through my thoughts. “Don’t overthink it.”

Joe stares straight ahead and my jaw drops. “How do you—?”

“I can practically hear your thoughts. Stop worrying.”

Easy for him to say. I saw the gun strapped to his leg. If his boss decided to kill me, I’d never see it coming. That pounds in the back of my brain when he glances at me. That threat is always there, hiding just out of sight, but it’s there. He said he didn’t want to hurt me, not that he
wouldn
’
t
hurt me.

Of course I’m worried.

If I can be completely honest, he scares the shit out of me. He always has this look on his face—this deadpan expression that makes me wonder if he’s an empty shell. Every smile he gives me clashes with the unhappiness in his eyes. There’s a lot of darkness inside him.

Joe gives me a look as he parks the car and we walk out to find the little cafe where I’m supposed to meet Nathan. We walk a foot apart from each other. Half an hour ago, I was between his knees, my mouth wrapped around his cock. It feels like we never shared an intimate moment.

Awkward.

I have no idea what to do with my hands, so I let them swing at my side. Joe’s eyes scan the streets, as if looking for potential threats. My heart jumps when he touches my arm and nods to the place.

My brother sits at a table outside, fingers wrapped around his smartphone. It looks like it might snap into two. I approach the table tentatively. Nathan’s white shirt flutters in the small breeze. It’s rolled up to his elbows, almost as if he’s prepared for a fight. His blond head looks up at me, and I feel stabbed by the accusation in his eyes, which narrow when he sees Joe.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

A dark smile flicks on Joe’s face as he walks behind me and around Nathan’s table. He gets in my brother’s face as he plants a palm over the table and the other on the back of his chair. Cold eyes stare back at Joe. He’s trying to intimidate Nathan, but no one’s ever been able to do that.

“I’m protecting my boss’ interest.”

“What boss?” he asks in a derisive tone.

“Jack Vittorio.”

Nathan’s face blanches and he balls his hands into fists. It’s clear that he recognizes the name, and he looks at me again in disgust. “You made a deal with these savages?”