Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club, #1)(62)

I pushed all the shit on my desk to one side—I was glad it was so big—and laid her down. She tipped her legs open and I hiked her skirt higher.

“Look at that pretty pussy.” I licked up her slit. “God, you taste fucking good.”

She whimpered again. I loved hearing her make that sound.

With my hands on her thighs, I went to work on her clit with my tongue. I started slow, teasing, torturing. Long drags of my tongue against her soft folds. The tension in her body built, her back arching, fingers clutching at the surface of my desk.

I slid two fingers inside her and she barely stopped a moan from escaping her lips. Flicking her clit with my tongue, I curled my fingers, giving her the friction she needed. Her body writhed and she grabbed my hair while she bucked her hips against me.

I was relentless, never letting up. I licked and sucked her clit while I worked her pussy with my fingers. Still high from my own orgasm, I was intoxicated by her taste. By the feel of her wetness on my fingers.

This sweet, gorgeous woman was laid out on my desk, her pussy all mine. I’d never felt so fucking powerful.

She took short, sharp breaths and her pussy clenched around my fingers. I gave her more, lapping my tongue against her clit. Her pussy was hot around my fingers. God, she was so close. I could feel it, almost like I was about to come again.

Her back arched and she clapped a hand over her mouth, her pussy throbbing. I rode out her orgasm with her, still licking and driving into her with my fingers.

She relaxed, still gasping for breath. “Oh my god, stop. I can’t take anymore.”

I planted a last kiss over her clit and slid my fingers out.

“Holy shit, Shepherd,” she breathed. “I think I just died.”

I helped her sit up on the edge of my desk and she blinked a few times. Her hair was a mess, her clothes disheveled.

“You look sexy as fuck right now.” I held her hips and leaned in to kiss her. “Now get your ass out, I have work to do.”

Giggling, she grabbed my nipple through my shirt and twisted, making me grunt. “You ass. You can’t give me an orgasm like that and not let me recover.”

I kissed her again. “Let’s clear my schedule and you can take all the time you need.”

The crazy thing was, I meant it. I’d have happily taken the rest of the day off, just to spend it with her. It was so unlike me.

Everly was addicting, and not just because she knew how to make me come harder than I ever had in my life. I liked her—a lot. And I still wasn’t sure how to handle that.





26





Shepherd





In order to keep the engagement party from getting terribly out of control, I’d convinced my dad to hold it here, at my condo. I had plenty of space for a small, intimate gathering—and not enough space for a huge guest list. After some gentle prodding from Everly—oh, Richard, wouldn’t it be adorable to have it here?—he’d agreed.

Which meant the morning of the party, I came home from the gym to chaos.

People were everywhere. Moving furniture, hanging up decorations, stringing lights. There was a caterer in the kitchen, a woman standing on a stepladder in the living room, apparently changing light bulbs, and what looked like a small construction crew assembling a portable stage where my dining table used to be.

And in the middle of it all was my father.

He looked good, I had to admit that. His cancer treatments had left him pale and fatigued, but today he seemed healthier than I’d seen him in weeks. Color in his face, straight back, energy in his movements. He had a clipboard tucked under one arm and was talking to someone on his phone.

I waited, hands in my shorts pockets, while people bustled around me, transforming my home into… well, it was hard to say at this point what it was turning into. At the moment, it looked like a party store had exploded in the penthouse.

Dad hung up and pocketed his phone. “Oh good, Shep, you’re home. What do you think so far?”

I glanced around. “I’m sure it’ll be great when it’s ready.”

“I think so too.” He smiled, and damn if there wasn’t that gleam in his eyes that Everly had mentioned. She was right, it was hard to resist. “By tonight, you won’t recognize the place. It’ll be completely transformed.”

Two men walked by, carrying a tall piece of plywood.

“What’s that?”

Dad watched them take it out to the balcony. “Oh, that must be for the photo booth.”

“Photo booth?”

“Of course. But you should go or I’m going to spoil all the best surprises.”

I tried not to groan. Surprises? “Um, Dad, what surprises? I thought we were keeping this low-key.”

He patted me on the back. “Don’t worry. You and Everly are going to love it.”

“You didn’t plan a fireworks show, did you?”

“No, nothing like that.” He flipped through the pages on his clipboard. “I couldn’t get the permits on such short notice.”

“Wait, what? You mean you tried to plan a fireworks show?”

“You should really make yourself scarce, Shep. You can come back when it’s party time.”

“I live here. Where am I supposed to go?”

He shrugged. “Go shower and just stay in your room. Or your office. We aren’t using it.”