A Mess of a Man (Cruel & Beautiful #2)(77)

The air I suck in manages to hold the burn in the back of my eyes from spilling over.

“It’s okay.”

And this is part of the reason why I’m falling for her. She pulls me close to cover my mouth with hers. Somehow she knows enough words have been said. I have to be close to her in a way I’ve never been close to another human being.

“I need you like crazy, Sam.”

She nods, taking my mouth again and smothering my words with heat. Her hands pull my shirt from my pants and it’s as if she’s close to orgasm the way she claws at my clothes. She leans up with a glint in her eye. I have no idea what’s she’s about to do.

She splits the fabric of my shirt, sending buttons airborne, and f*ck, if I’m not turned on faster than a Porsche 911 turbo engine.

“Want to play that game?” I ask.

The smile she flashes me lights up the room. Clothes are taken off with no care to their destruction. Soon, we’re standing in front of each other naked, like two bulls ready to lock horns. She makes the first move taking a flying leap at me. Only I take it one step further. When she tries to lock her legs around my back, I shake my head and lift her higher.

“Hook your legs over my shoulders. I want to eat that amazing * of yours.”

As I hike her up by her spec-f*cking-tacular ass, she wiggles and works her way into position as we stand in the middle of my living room. I bury my head in between her legs. There is an art to eating *. And as much as I like her where she is, I need more use of my hands without fear of her falling down.

Good thing I know my house. I take several side steps until my leg hits the edge of the sofa. I carefully sit and Sam pulls free. I take advantage of the moment and lie back.

“Sit on my f*cking face, baby. I’m not done yet.”

I get her off twice before I flip our positions and get her on her hands and knees. There isn’t anything gentle about the way I ram into her. She doesn’t complain, only screams out for more. When I blow my load, I’m so spent, we lie in a heap on the couch until I can catch my breath.

By the time my alarm goes off the next morning, I’ve managed a couple of hours sleep. It has been days since I’ve had Sam in my bed and I’ve made the most of our time. We christen many rooms in the house except the bathroom, which I plan to rectify.

“Wake up, sweetheart. I have to go to work and I plan to smell like you when I get there.”

By the time I make it to the office and sit in my chair, I’ve done things with muscles I haven’t used in a while. It’s time to get that home gym installed if I plan to keep my pretty little girlfriend happy. The sheer number of times we went at it, if I’d gone bare my dick would have been chafed if not for Sam’s wet *. I’m for sure out of cum. Which reminds me of our test. We haven’t gone yet with everything going on, and I want to be inside her bare.

I send her a text.



Me: Testing, tomorrow morning?



It’s not a question even though I’ve phrased it that way.



Sam: Afternoon?



I growl, not wanting to waste another minute.



Me: Sure



I make the necessary appointments and send her the time. Then I focus on work. All the correspondence about the confusion with the mutual fund company and the effected parties has gone out, with another letter still to review.

“Do you think you should call your dad?”

Jeff sits in a chair across from my desk and I have to stop myself from telling him to go f*ck himself, since my door is wide open and I’m the acting boss. It would not be a good look.

“Not happy with my leadership, because I think it’s working for me?” I ask with a raised brow instead.

“It’s not that, but shit, man. If things go tits up, this is all on you.”

He doesn’t have to tell me. Men were made by the tough decisions if you look back in history. And I don’t need my dad to tell me if I’m being a good boy or not. Not anymore.

“I know. But trust me, I’ve got this.”

I hit the send button on the letter I approve which isn’t apologetic. Mistakes happen, but it isn’t ours. We hadn’t directly invested in that slime ball who gives a bad name to all investment bankers. We trusted the information we had at the time that our clients’ money was free of the fraud. And unfortunately for us, mutual fund companies don’t always disclose every investment they deal with on a daily basis.

“You’ve got balls, my friend.”

He’s right. All my chips are on the table, and if I bust, I’ll lose everything.

There is a ruckus in the hall. Jeff turns around just as a woman barrels through my door with Lisa in tow.

“Ms. Spencer,” I say dryly, wondering why she’s still invading my life like a carpenter ant infestation until I break.

“I may not be able to sue you, but I want the person fired who called me to come to your event.”

I glare at Lisa who is supposed to be the gatekeeper in our office. I can see a talk with Trudy in my future. How did Dad deal with all this shit and still get things done?

“You’re no longer a client, Karen,” I say slowly, hoping she’ll get the message.

“I haven’t pulled my money. And I haven’t decided if I will. Just because you’re an * doesn’t mean your firm hasn’t made me a shit ton of money. And don’t worry—I want nothing to do with you. I’ve moved on. But whoever tried to use me for the fool should be fired.”