End Game (16 page)

Marisa sinks to her knees. Without her hands, she guides my cock into her mouth. The first contact of her lips makes me inhale sharply. It’s like tongue on steel, flesh on fire. So sudden. So damn good. My hand flies to her head as her tongue moves up and down, and I unconsciously rock my hips into her mouth. Her tight, wet lips are like a suction on my dick. She sucks the head and I swear out loud.

“Goddamn it, Marisa.
Yes.
Just like that.”

My hands wrap around her head and the urge to take control builds up inside my chest, right inside my heart. I bury myself deep inside her throat. She doesn’t gag, and then I pump a few more times. It’s so fucking hot. She’s tied up and sucking my cock as if her life depends on it, her tongue making swirls on my shaft. The pressure builds behind my cock. I’m going to come. I’m going to, if I don’t stop.

I pull myself out of her lips, breathing hard with her. Then some sort of redness takes over my vision. I get like that sometimes when I’m angry. Can’t see anything else. It’s sort of like that. A haze of desire, telling me what to do. It takes me a few seconds to pull her up and march her to the bedroom, and even less to shove her face first onto the bed.

I yank the belt looped around her arms before she can fall and I climb up behind her. I give her thighs a vicious slap, and she spreads them apart for me. My bulging cock pauses for a moment behind her pussy, and then I shove forward.

Both of us sigh together as I slide into her. Using the belt wrapped around her hands, I thrust forward, yanking her body into my hips. She feels amazing. The tight wet walls contract around my cock, the coiling muscles tugging me as I pull out. Marisa moans so fucking loudly that I think I’ve hurt her, but then her face twists around.

“Faster.”

I grab her hips and she falls forward, her ass sticking up in the air. The wet smacking sounds of our bodies joining together make me wild. I rip my hand down on her ass, making the burn glow again. I lean forward and grab her silky hair, using it like a collar to make her back arch. My cock pulses inside her. She’s so tight—so wet.

“Joe,” she says, her voice low. “You feel
so good
.”

I pull out suddenly and flip her around, her hands still tied around her back. She hitches her legs up and wraps them around my waist. I sink into her, meeting her lips with my thrusts. There’s nothing like this feeling—like pounding the shit out of a woman who can barely breathe because you’re fucking her so hard. Strangled, feminine gasps fill the bedroom. She cries out nonsensical words as my cock digs into her pussy.

We’re both lost in each other. I can only hear her moans, feel her damp, naked skin under mine, her legs tightened around my waist. Nothing else matters but slamming my hips against her, again and again.

“
Joe!
”

She screams my name and clenches her teeth, her eyes rolling in her head. Tight muscles contract over my cock, squeezing. Something between a yell and a groan bursts from my throat and I fall over her body, wrapping my arms around her neck. She arches her back, her breasts flush against my chest as pleasure rocks up my legs, making me grind into her. My teeth find her neck and I bite down hard just as my hips convulse with an orgasm so intense, I can feel it in my teeth. I open my mouth, gasping into her hair as the shockwaves continue to rock through my body.

Jesus.

Christ.

Marisa lies underneath me, making a painful face. Oh, shit—her hands. I reach around and untie her, throwing the belt off the bed. Her delicate little hands reach up to touch my face and neck, looking up at me with a satisfied, sleepy look. She kisses me, her lips barely touching mine.

“Joe, you were amazing.”

A smile finds its way across my face. The happy glow still radiates from my chest. “Damn, I needed this.” I lay down on my side, conscious of the fact that I should leave now—but I’m so fucking tired. What a stress relief. Every worry and every tinge of sadness has been fucked right out of me.

She smiles. “Me too.” Marisa traces my lips with a long finger. “That heaviness is gone from your eyes.”

I know exactly what she means, but I try to play dumb. I don’t want to go there.

“I should get going.”

Her fingers tense over my jaw. “What?”

“No strings, Marisa.”

“Oh, come on. That doesn’t mean you can’t stay.”

No, it doesn’t.

She lays her head on my chest and sudden exhaustion hits me hard. My eyes are heavy. I could stay. I want to stay.

I should go.

But her body curls around mine and I’ve never felt so relaxed and warm. Drifting off is too tempting, and I allow myself to close my eyes.

MARISA

There’s a saying I heard somewhere: All men are beautiful in the dark. It’s only when the lights go on, that the superficial judgments begin.

What a load of bullshit.

Let’s face it; most men I’ve been with certainly were not beautiful in the dark. They were clumsy at worst and brief at best.

It’s the way he touches me. The way he fucks me. He makes me feel irresistible. While the rest—well, had their fun and that was that. I thought I had good sex, but I had no idea. I had no idea how good it could be. None of the men I was ever with were even on the same planet as Joe.

But it’s always the bad boys who are the best in bed, isn’t it? The ones you can’t keep, even if you wanted to.

Disquiet stirs in my chest as I watch him swing his legs over the bed and stalk toward the living room. He thinks I’m still asleep. He returns with his clothes in his arms, still mostly hidden by darkness but clearly audible.

He’s leaving right in the middle of the night like some asshole.

I wait until he’s fully dressed, silently hoping that he’ll lean over and touch me to tell me he’s leaving. He doesn’t. Joe heads straight for the door.

“Going somewhere?”

I hear him pause, and then he walks closer. “Marisa?”

“I’m wide awake,” I say in a clear voice.

Busted.

He sits on the bed next to me. I can’t make out a thing, just his silhouette. “I’ve got some work to do. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

He’s obviously lying, and it hurts me. I’m glad it’s dark, because if it wasn’t he’d see the sadness building up in my eyes.

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yeah.” He cups my cheek and gives my head a kiss. “See you around.”

I cover his hand with mine, and sit up. He’s already pulling away to leave, but I grab his lapels and kiss him. His lips are soft, but mine want to devour him. His musky smell clouds around me, mixed with the faint smell of sex clinging to his skin.

He pulls back and I feel the smile on my face. “You’re going to get me hard, and I need to leave.”

“I want you again.”

“Of course you do.”

The smugness in his voice ought to be fined.

I’m not the only girl on his list. He probably has dozens of women lining up to fuck him. With how handsome he is and how great he is in bed, who can blame them? But it still makes me burn with jealousy.

His mouth hovers near my ear. “I need to get going, but you’ll be in my thoughts.”

Sure, whatever. You don’t need to sugarcoat it. “Bye.”

He did say no strings. I don’t really have a right to be upset.

The bed lifts as Joe stands up and gives me a final pat on the head. It feels conciliatory, and at once I have a bizarre urge to stand up and shove his chest.

I turn around in bed, not even watching when he leaves my bedroom. My eyes shut when the front door opens and shuts.

And then I feel cold.

* * *

My head buzzes with this man the whole ride to the casino. I can’t get rid of him. His smell, his taste, his touch—I’m addicted. He’s like an infection. Joe makes me feverish.

What is it about him?
I keep asking myself.

I don’t know. I really don’t. Maybe the way he coldly brushes me aside makes me want him even more. Isn’t that sick?

Yeah, pretty sick.

He didn’t so much as text me the next day…or the day after. Yeah, I was used, and it makes me feel like crap. I’m just going to go to work, check the fucking financial statements that come in every week and supervise the construction, make sure everything’s on track to be finished by June, and then I’ll go back home and gorge on Spaghetti-o’s. I loved the crocodile shaped ones as a kid, but they don’t make them anymore. Maybe I’ll watch
Lion King
—No, it’s too sad.

I can’t think about family right now. My dad’s dead and the brother I looked up to hates every fiber of my being. He wants to see me buried. Jessica? Who the hell knows where she is? She doesn’t return my phone calls.

Alone.

I’m utterly alone.

I’m so goddamn sick of it. I wish I could talk to someone about my fucked up feelings for Joe. Who would understand? I don’t even understand it. I stomp up the steps as I exit the subway, determined not to get down. Dad wouldn’t have wanted it this way.

The Worlds Casino sign hangs in the sky, the black letters against a white background. Simple. Clean. I admire the new sign as I walk around, heading for the executive entrance on the side of the building. There’s a busted floodlight on the side and I stop, looking at the shattered glass below my feet. Goddamn it. They’re not cheap, and money’s tight.

I enter the building and climb up to my office. A flash of golden hair in the hallway makes my heart pound. Nathan pauses for a moment. I tense and give him a nod, which he ignores. Sighing, I enter my office. Are we going to be like this forever? I just want to make up for Dad’s sake.

The day at work passes by slowly. I’m drowned in emails, and the weekly financial report makes me want to cry.

“Hey, there.”

The low, lilting voice, suddenly at my ear, makes me jump horribly. Joe closes the door behind him and locks it, a devilish grin on his face. He’s dressed in a slim-fitted suit as black as sin and he looks at me as if he has seen me naked, which, he has.

He crosses the room without presumption, aware of the way he makes me feel. Even now, the sight of him makes me feel horribly exposed, as if my secrets are on display. But more than that—he makes me so incredibly hot.

“H—hi,” I say finally.

Joe stands over me, cocking his head to look down my blouse. He takes my neck in his hand, and his thumb rubs the faint bruise I covered with makeup. He touches it for a moment, admiring his handiwork. I take his hand away, heart pounding. “Joe, you can’t do this here.”

He grabs the arms of my chair. “Why not?”

“Because,” I sputter. “I don’t want my coworkers knowing about us.”

“Us?”

“This arrangement we have.”

Joe’s rough palms slide over my bare arms, and then he pulls me up so that he can take my seat. He hooks an arm around my waist and I slide onto his lap.

“You’re mine and I’ll have you when I want.”

I melt into his arms, loving his strength around me, his possessive hands grabbing my waist, his hot mouth, giving me affectionate kisses on my neck. I want more of this. I want him all the time.

“I like this skirt.”

His hands are not on my skirt. They squeeze my legs, plucking my pantyhose.

“Easy access.”

His hand creeps up my thigh and his low laugh makes a shiver run up my spine. “So I guess this means you’re still interested in me.”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have my hand up your skirt.” He gives me another peck on my cheek.

“You didn’t call or anything, I just assumed—”

“I told you I would play with you in return for your protection. I never said I’d be a gentleman.”

What if I don
’
t want to be played with?

But I do. I do. The air feels thin and my mouth opens. His mouth and tongue play with my neck as his hands slowly unbutton my dress shirt. The cool air stings my skin, but his hand warms me. Before I know it, my blouse is yanked down my shoulders. Joe’s expert hands undo my bra. My legs part as he pulls it down my shoulders and tosses it aside. Then he reaches around my skin and grabs my tits.

Holy shit.

Moisture gathers in my panties, making me uncomfortable.

“Joe, this is—this is crazy.”

“What’s crazy is that you’re hiding this body of yours.”

He squeezes my breasts and I shudder, leaning back against his chest as an ache pounds between my legs like a second heartbeat.

Christ, be sensible. You can
’
t have sex in an office. You
’
re the President of the company? What would Dad say?

“Joe, we can’t do this here.”

“Says who?” He runs a light finger around my nipple and I bite my lip hard, uttering a small moan. He laughs in response. “You agreed to be at my beck and call. I’ll fuck you whenever I want.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Let’s face it, you want this as much as I do.”

His finger grazes against the fabric of my panties, right along the line of where my clit throbs. It’s very sensitive, and the moment he touches it, I arch my back and heave a big sigh.

“Maybe you want this more than I do,” he observes with a grin. “That’s okay, though. I like it when my woman needs me.”

I do need him. At least, I need passion. That’s what was missing in my life, and he makes me feel alive. He makes me forget about all the shit in my life.

My nipples graze over the coarse fabric of his suit as I turn around in his arms, yanking his head into mine as we kiss with a crazed energy. He massages the smear of purple on my shoulder that I spent all morning trying to hide. There are more bruises on my abdomen, and Joe looks at them with a glint of pride in his eyes.

“You look so sexy with all of my marks over your body.”

I run my hands over his broad chest, loving how hard his body is. I undo the first few buttons as he looks at me with a slightly drunk expression.

“You didn’t let me return the favor.”

His face breaks into a wide smile, as if I’ve just said a hilarious joke. “Right.”

A sprinkling of dark hair peeks through his shirt. I unbutton the whole thing and warm my hands over his body. He closes his eyes in contentment as I lean forward, kissing his Adam’s apple, feeling it bob against my lips. Then I aim my head lower, kissing the collarbone that juts out of his olive skin. I bite the delicate skin and suck hard, until a bright red mark glows against it. I feel his chuckle through my mouth.