Not That Kind of Girl (26 page)

“Oh, my God,” she breathed.

The jeans were unzipped. She got a peek at a pair of gray boxer briefs about ready to split at the seams. She watched as Eli hooked his fingers into the waistband of both items of clothing and ripped everything off his hips without a bit of fanfare.

Fuck fanfare. The man didn’t need it.

“Oh, God. Oh. My.
God.
” Roxie had noticed that the more aroused she got with Eli the less she cared about her vocabulary. The less she cared about anything, really, except getting that beautiful, sexy man on top of her and up inside her.

Eli gave her a wicked smile. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. And he just stood there, hands relaxed at his sides, allowing her to get her fill of what he had to offer. She stared at everything. The smooth swell of his biceps. The veins that protruded down the inside of his arms and along the top of his hands. His defined chest. The small pink nipples. The rippled abs. The dark blond hair that dusted his pecs and ran down the center of his body to his …

For a second there, she forgot the word for it. Cock. Dick. Shaft. Penis. What
ever
. The exquisite beauty of Eli Gallagher had reduced her to a panting, vocabulary-challenged mess. She was wet. Everywhere. She feared there was spittle trickling from the corner of her open mouth.

Eli’s cock was so rigid that it nearly grazed the surface of his hard belly. She could see the underside of it, all engorged and covered in veins and as thick around as … She lost her train of thought, because, while she’d been staring, Eli had executed a series of quick, efficient moves and had rolled on a condom.

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the mattress between her spread feet. “I’m going to show you how it is with us,” he said. “Are you listening, Roxie?”

She nodded. Without realizing it, she began to play with her own nipples, pinching and twisting until shivers went through her. Eli’s grin widened. “Go ahead, baby,” he said. “Those are mine now but you certainly have my permission to play with them.”

Roxie gasped.
His?
Her breasts were
his
? When his eyes slid up and down her nearly naked body she shivered with delight.

Just then it occurred to her that there was something decidedly different about Eli Gallagher.

“You know it will be in your best interest to follow the program, right?”

“God.”

“And do you know why?”

Did he want her to say something? Had he asked her a question. “Huh?”

“I asked if you know why it’s in your best interest to follow the program?”

She nodded. She swallowed hard, finding barely enough concentration to form words. “Uh-huh,” she said. “Because I’ll feel safe. I’ll feel relieved that there’s someone looking out for me. I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Eli nodded, a sly smile spreading his lips. “You’ve been paying attention. You’re a very good girl.” He brought a fingertip to her sternum, then dragged it between her breasts and down the middle of her body, not stopping when he reached the band of her panties.

“Let’s see what we have here,” Eli said, his melted-butter voice driving her completely insane. She tensed up, expecting him to push his finger down into the lace. He didn’t. Instead he let his finger tease her through the fabric of the crotch. He touched her so lightly she thought she’d scream with frustration.

“You seem a little damp,” he said.

Roxie laughed. This was nuts. She felt as if she’d pass out. Or die. Or come. Just from the way he teased her, barely touched her.
The sound of that fucking voice
. “Please,” she hissed. She raised her hips off the bed in desperation.

“Settle down, sweet thing,” he said. He pushed her hips back to the bed. He put his mouth so close to her that she felt his hot breath brush against the inside of her thighs.

Those four words.
Settle. Down. Sweet. Thing
. He kept saying them. He had to know how they messed with her head, aroused her.

“I better check that you’re ready for me.”

Finally!

Eli slipped his finger under the lace crotch and pulled it slightly to the side. Lightly, so lightly, he used his tongue to explore the seam of her sex. She was so wet that she could hear the sound of his tongue as it flicked at her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt him pull the entire crotch away. His tongue touched her clit.

She came. Her whole body shook and seized and a shockingly loud scream of pleasure filled the room. Somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that her panties had just been torn away from her body. She felt something incredibly thick push against her opening. She wanted it more than anything, but she was still coming, still squeezing tight with an orgasm. She didn’t know if it was possible for him to get in there.

It was. Eli put his forearms up under her legs and pulled them wider apart and farther back, then brought his mouth to hers. He covered her lips with his. He pushed his slick tongue into her mouth as he pushed his cock into her body.

Roxie could do nothing but ride the wave of ecstasy, feel the heat and power of Eli as he took her.
You’re mine. You’re mine.
The words repeated in her head over and over. Then she realized it was Eli’s voice she was hearing.

He developed a rhythm. He took his lips from hers, said the words, then put them right back, spreading her mouth open with his hungry tongue as he spread her body open with his cock. He pulled away again, but only for the time it took him to say it again.
“You’re mine.”

He shoved every inch of his big cock into her. His mouth went back to hers, stifling a series of cries suddenly exploding from her. He bit down on her upper lip, not hard, but it certainly got her attention. Then he reached under her body and gripped her ass hard as he pounded into her.

“You’re mine,”
he said, pushing, pulling out, taking her, taking all of her with every stroke. She began coming so hard that black spots swam in her vision.

That was when Eli moved one hand from her bottom. He placed it gently but firmly around her throat. And he said it again.
“You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.”

Roxie didn’t know what was happening to her. Never in her life had she had this kind of sex with a man, a man who had her pinned down in two places: at her pussy and at her throat, a man who clearly saw her as his to command, his to take. Somewhere in the back of her mind she found it hilarious—that a woman who professed to hate all men would be allowing herself to be dominated like this, controlled by a man because he knew the perfect combination of words and deeds.

Her fears had been unfounded. Eli wasn’t reserved when it came to sex. He was all alpha male. He was authority. He was in control. Yet at the same time, Eli was giving himself to her with unrestrained delight.

It made her head spin.

“Let go, Roxie, baby.” His hand slipped from her throat as he whispered in her ear. “Let yourself go with me. Don’t hold anything back. I’m not holding anything back from you, and I never will. Let go. I’ve got you. I promise.”

She could feel it. This man loved her. This man was strong enough to break down all her defenses and brave enough to love everything she was. She wasn’t making a mistake this time. Eli Gallagher was the one for her. He was the one man who could handle her, the good and the bad. He was the one who could take her places she’d never even dreamed of.

Roxanne wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and held him with all the strength she had in her, arching up against his body as he drove down into hers. And just when she’d decided this was the most searingly hot sexual experience she’d ever had in her life, Eli rooted his mouth into the side of her neck and pressed his teeth into her flesh. He bit down. He released.

“You’re mine,” he told her. “Do you feel it? How perfectly we fit together? I found you. I finally found you.”

She went rigid from head to toe as she came. She leaned her head back and let the hot pleasure burn her all the way to her fingers and toes.

“That’s it. Come all over me. Come on me while I come in you. Oh, sweet Roxie—
you’re all mine
.”

*   *   *

It had taken some persuasion, but Raymond was glad he’d agreed to meet his boys at the club for a CAO Gold and a bit of Glenfiddich. It had done him good to get out and have a few laughs, even if he hated appearing in public in his neck brace.

Raymond walked the half block from the club to the parking garage, his keys dangling in his hand. The last few days had been hard on him. He’d had to do some serious damage control at the courthouse, quelling nasty rumors that he’d ruptured his disc chasing after young pussy. He’d set everyone straight, however, explaining with a bit of self-deprecating humor how he’d tripped over a putter propped against his desk.

But he did worry about Ricky. Or Randy. Had she gone around blabbing her mouth? Was she serious about not wanting to go to law school? If that were the case, then Raymond had lost his leverage. But what baffled him the most was
why this particular girl
? He’d been messing with his assistants for at least twenty years now. Only the females, of course—he wasn’t one of those twisted motherfuckers who got their jollies in the airport men’s room! And in all those years, not a single one of those girls had made a fuss. They’d simply opened their legs or lips and understood they were paying the admission fee to their future success.

And clearly, he’d been a fine mentor. His former assistants held a variety of important positions. Several were assistant prosecutors. Two were now sitting judges. There were even a couple of CEOs and law school professors in the mix. And why? Because at one time, they’d been willing to assume the position for Raymond Sandberg.

Which led him right back to what bothered him about his latest assistant, Randy. Why did a little smart-mouthed cunt think she could take him on like this? Had Roxie whipped her into some kind of revengeful frenzy? Was Roxie out on the streets trying to recruit members for a man-hating cabal? An all-girl hit squad? He wouldn’t put it past her. Raymond knew that in the end, he’d discover that bitch Bloom was behind all the nonsense with Ricky.

By God, if it weren’t for his neck brace, he’d be out in Utah right now, hunting Roxie down like a dog.

After he said good night to his crew, Raymond took the parking garage elevator down two levels. He pressed his key fob and heard the comforting
beep-beep!
of his Lexus sedan reverberate through the nearly empty structure. Ow! Even that tiny movement of his fingers had resulted in discomfort. The shooting pain in his arm seemed to be getting worse, not better. Damn if he hadn’t started feeling his age this past week. It all began with the dog attack. Then the accident with the putter. He had to reassure himself that fifty-five wasn’t
old.
He wasn’t really an old man. Maybe once he’d gotten Roxie’s little bitch dog hooked up to the gas pipe he’d get the spring back in his step.

“Raymond Sandberg?”

He spun around. Way too fast. He brought a hand to his neck and howled with agony. “Who are—”

Holy fuck
. Raymond had to tilt his head back to get a good look, which hurt even more. The guy standing in front of him had to be at least six foot four. And a third his age. With more muscle in one of his arms than Raymond had in his entire body.

“You don’t need to know my name,” the kid said. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here on someone else’s behalf.”

His attacker seemed quite self-assured for a young criminal. Raymond moved his thumb across the car key and prepared to activate the panic button.

The guy snatched the keys from his hand. He threw them midway down the ramp of the parking garage, where they clattered and slid. The assailant slowly backed Raymond against the concrete wall between parked cars, his eyes serious but his hands to his sides. “I need you to pull out your wallet,” he said.

Raymond scrambled, digging into the front pocket of his suit coat. “Here.” He shoved it at him. “Take it all. Just don’t hurt me.”

“Thank you, but I’ll only be needing your driver’s license.”

Now,
that
was bizarre. Raymond fumbled trying to pull his license from its plastic case. He handed it over to him.

“Excellent,” the man said, examining it. “I’ll return this in just a moment.”

Identity thieves were now prowling city parking structures? Raymond wondered. What was this world coming to? Was there a soul left in this town with a modicum of decency?

The man returned his attention to Raymond. “Well, shall we get on to the business at hand, Mr. Sandberg? I believe you’re acquainted with my sister.”

Shit! Fuck!
It was Ricky’s brother.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” Raymond said, knowing he was so scared he was about to soil his custom-tailored suit trousers. The kid would never suspect that, however, because Raymond had used his rich, steady baritone voice, the one that could hide a full-out panic from the most attentive juries. At least that gift hadn’t failed him.

The kid grinned. “You’re the one who’s made the mistake, you Viagra-popping piece of crap.”

“I’m sure we can sit down and discuss this—”

The young man reached into the pocket of his cheap, baggy nylon jacket and Raymond thought for sure he was going for a gun. Instead he produced a document of some kind.

“Sign your name to this and I won’t break both your legs.”

Raymond choked on his surprise. “Whaaa—”

The young man unfolded the document and held it out for him, along with a ballpoint pen. “It’s real simple,” he told Raymond. “You sign and date this and I don’t beat the fuck out of your pathetic needle-dicked self.” The kid suddenly laughed. “Look, I try not to pummel old dudes in neck braces if I can help it, okay? It’s a point of honor with me. So let’s just get this over with.”

Raymond’s legs became weak with fear. He reached out for the pen with a shaky hand, wondering what in the name of God he was being forced to sign. This was an outrage! A travesty!