COME WHEN CALLED (Billionaire & Biker Menage Romance) Page 4

  He drew away from her and she groaned at the loss of his hot mouth against her flesh. “On the table,” he demanded. Standing, he lifted her easily and dropped her bare bottom onto the development contract they’d been word-smithing not twenty minutes prior. He pulled the chair in front of her and helped her brace her heels on the armrests on either side of him. Reaching under her leg and around her ass, he scooped her toward the edge of the table, forcing her legs wide, until she was spread open in front of him, laid completely bare.

  “Mr. Hawthorne…,“ she said, self-consciousness swelling again and allowing her nerves to find purchase.

  “Shh. None of that, Evangeline.” His tone was firm and the message clear. He wouldn’t hear protests or allow her to entertain embarrassment. Laying his hands on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, he pressed her legs wider, his eyes traveling slowly all the way down from face to her naked pussy. “Your body is so beautiful,” he said softly. Leaning in, he laid a kiss above his hand on her thigh, inches from where she really ached for him to be. “But this part is especially pretty,” he murmured, sliding his hand all the way up her leg and stroking a finger into her folds. She sucked in a breath as his touch sent shock-waves through her. “God, Evie,” he nearly moaned her name. “You’re so wet. You’re ready for more than just my tongue.”

  She tensed, not sure whether she wanted to wrap her legs around him or remind him to stay on task. Without more delay, he pushed a finger inside, studying her as if he intended to memorize her reactions, adjust to her cues. “So tight.” He looked up at her, grinning mischievously. “When is the last time you’ve been thoroughly fucked, Miss Radmin?”

  She blinked at him and couldn’t make her mouth work. The only response her brain could produce was that she wasn’t sure she’d ever been thoroughly fucked. That sounded like something she’d remember.

  Thankfully, Ford didn’t wait for her answer. He slid his finger in and out of her slowly. “No worries, love. I’m going to make up for some of the fun you’ve missed.”

  With his other hand, he tucked his first two fingers in a vee around the sides of her pussy, trapping her labia tightly against the finger he still had inside her. Her firm clit was caught snugly between her folds so that every movement of his finger dragged her own engorged lips against her clit.

  Damn. He is good.

  Letting her head drop back again, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Oh god,” as she rocked her hips, not able to remain still with so much pleasure building inside her. Exhaling, she realized she was holding her breath as she anticipated whatever fabulous thing he’d do next.

  Lowering his mouth to her heated core, he removed his finger. He was taking his time, making her wait in agony for every new treat. He replaced his finger with his strong tongue, snaking it between her folds to dip in and taste her.

  Evie moaned and let her head loll, her brain struggling to keep up with the intensity of the feelings he brought to life in her. Maybe it was her sexual dry spell or because she was so hot for him, or perhaps it was Ford’s skill, but she’d never experienced anything like the mind-bending rush of desire coursing through her from his touches.

  Abandoning all thought, she leaned back and shifted her weight to her arms, pressing herself more firmly into his face. He’d guaranteed her satisfaction and it had taken him less than five minutes to convince her he’d have no trouble over-delivering on that promise.

  Ford moved his tongue up and down rhythmically on her, finding her clit and flicking it. She was almost embarrassed at how much she was enjoying him. Fighting the urge to squirm against his mouth, Evie arched her back, eager for his tongue to bring her over the edge and ease her need.

  She should drag it out, relish it, but she was too desperate. She just needed the satisfaction of an orgasm brought on by a man who worked only to please her. It had been too long. That hunger combined with her lust for this man, and she was in over her head. Her only choice was to enjoy the ride.

  He released her folds from the clench of his fingers and wrapped his arms under her legs and around until he had an ass cheek in each hand.

  “Damn,” he whispered against her, “I’m so hard for you I’m tempted to throw out this whole agreement and just fuck you until I’m satisfied.” Evie whimpered and flexed her fingers against the solid wood of the library table, wondering if her nails could dig nicks into the oak. She looked down at him, intending to burn the sight of him between her legs into her memory for future uses on lonely nights. He met her eyes, his lips curling into a sexy smile, wet from her juices. “But a deal’s a deal, Miss Radmin.”

  Closing her eyes, she nodded, breathlessly agreeing. “A deal’s a deal, Mr. Hawthorne.”

  He lapped his tongue up the full length of her pussy, once, twice, before adding his finger again to fuck her while his mouth produced magic. The tingling pleasure multiplied and then multiplied again. Feeling as if she was too small in her own skin, she fought the urge to cry out to release the pent up, glorious feelings he was tonguing to life in her.

  Damn, she was almost there already.

  She tried to back off from the precipice, determined to make her side of the deal last as long as she could hold out. She’d never actually tried not to come before, and it seemed to have the opposite effect on her, her pleasure careening headlong toward the euphoric escape of orgasm.

  Staring down at him, her eyes greedily drank in his broad muscular shoulders, his strong back. She wished he would take off his shirt so she could touch his tanned skin and watch his muscles roll and contract as he worked to pleasure her. Pausing, he looked up again, his gorgeous eyes meeting hers.

  “Evangeline, do you have any idea how often I’ve sat across from you at this law firm and thought of fucking you with my fingers while I sucked on your clit?”

  Goddamn, the things this man said.

  His voice was low and sultry. “When I make you come, say my name.”

  Evie nodded as if in a trance, thinking she’d agree to anything as long as he didn’t stop what he was doing to her. “F-ford?” she stammered, realizing she wasn’t clear on his instructions. She’d never called him by his first name before, not to his face.

  “No,” he growled, and pushed a second finger into her without warning, making her gasp. Sucking her clit between his lips, he nuzzled his tongue against the nub while he had it trapped. She gave up holding back on her expressions of pleasure. She was sighing and moaning so much that she almost missed his instructions. “You will call me ‘Mr. Hawthorne’. Now lie back.”

  There was something so wrong about his insisting she call him by his formal name, given he had his fingers buried in her pussy, but it magnified the idea that he was in control, and the thought did things to her. She’d think about it later, dwell on why surrendering her control fueled a raging fire in her. She’d never wanted such things before. Of course she’d never negotiated a deal with a hot billionaire for oral sex before, either.

  The forgotten contracts crinkled noisily under her back as she lowered herself to the table, making the only other sounds in the deserted library besides Ford’s wet kisses and her soft moans. Before closing her eyes again, she noticed the ceiling had upgraded acoustical tiles, making it fancier than a standard office ceiling.

  She’d never even looked up at the library ceiling before. Of course she’d never been on her back on a library table with her legs spread before, whimpering in inevitable ecstasy. Ford was introducing her to all kinds of firsts.

  Without slowing his pumping fingers, he tilted his head, sucking one side of her folds into his mouth entirely, suckling them for a moment before shifting his head to give the other side the same treatment.

  Oh.

  No one had ever done that before. “Please,” she whispered again and she didn’t know if she was begging for mercy from the onslaught of arousal so strong it felt like torment, or begging him to bring on more.

  He stood but didn’t move his face from between her legs, his effort
s reaching a feverish rhythm. His long fingers continued to fill her and her pleasure spiked again. Her legs tensed on the arms of the office chair, scooting her slightly away from him. With a growl of displeasure, he wrapped his arms up around her thighs, jerking her back to the edge of the table again to bury his face in her aggressively. This time he settled into an unyielding cadence against her. Short, quick sucks of her clit before allowing a moment of relief as he lapped his strong tongue along her pussy, all the while penetrating her with his fingers.

  She writhed, moaned, and grabbed for the edge of the table to stay pressed against his face.

  Oh fuck. Oh fuck!

  This wasn’t going to be an orgasm, this was going to be an awakening, an act of god.

  He pressed his fingers into her thighs a little too hard and the pain cut through the pleasure, but it didn’t bother her. It was better. “My name,” he commanded. “Say my name when I make you come.” His deep voice vibrated against her and her body responded instantly.

  The orgasm slammed through her like a tidal wave. “Oh god, Mr. Hawthorne. I’m coming. Mr. Hawthorne, it’s so good. Oh…oh…“ Her cries trailed off as she surrendered her mind to the oblivion until there was nothing but the rapture. Wave after wave of it. Nothing to think about. Nothing but what he’d made her do, made her feel.

  He held her legs until she stilled. As she slowly returned to reality, she clamped her lips closed, realizing she was continuing to whisper his name over and over again like an incantation.

  He untangled his arms to sit back as she righted herself unsteadily. His face glistened with the wetness from her excitement and without blinking he used the sleeve of his custom shirt to clean his beautiful face.

  Even that pricey, custom shirt was disposable to him. Deep in her mind, a small voice warned her she was no different. But she was not thinking about that. Not thinking at all.

  Rather than awkwardness descending as it easily could have at that moment, she met his eyes and something passed between them in the charged air. There was an intensity in his stare and neither of them spoke. The echoes of her cries in orgasm seemed to reverberate like living memories in the shadows of the somber legal books around them.

  Was it like this for him all the time? Was this what went on behind the blacked-out windows of the limos? Or was this different for him too? Better?

  From the look in his eyes, one thing Evie was sure of was that he’d enjoyed doing what he’d done to her. And so had she.

  Maybe she should just quit her job and fuck Ford all day. She didn’t need to eat, right?

  “Wow,” she finally managed, making him smile. He wasn’t kidding. Best orgasm of her life.

  “If your response is any indication, I’m guessing I delivered the satisfaction I promised, love. Now stand up. My turn.” He pursed his lips into that cocky smile that showcased his dimples and always made her panties a bit wet. If she’d been wearing any. In that gravelly, bedroom voice of his, he added, “I know exactly what I’m going to do to your mouth.”

  A wide and wicked grin stole across her face and she looked down quickly, trying to hide it. She had no idea what he had in store for her, but the truth was she was ready to perform any lewd act this man could come up with in his sinful imagination.

  She was usually more hesitant than that. Maybe she was losing her mind. Maybe the stress of the last six months, coupled with no sexual relief, had finally caused her to go crazy. But whatever it was, she was ready at that moment, with no commitment from either of them, to be Ford’s whore. And that didn’t sound the least bit bad or degrading to her.

  Actually, it felt empowered. She was doing what felt good to her and fuck everyone else. It felt filthy and wild and all the things a smart, responsible girl should never be.

  And Ford’s slut was exactly what she wanted to be at that moment as she sat with her naked ass on the wet and ruined contract documents that John had reviewed earlier that day, adding only grammar-picking comments and no compliments on Evie’s hard work.

  No. In this moment she wasn’t worrying, for once, about her long-term plan, the consequences, or the investment versus the reward. In fact she could think of nothing else but doing whatever Ford wanted as long as it would get him to do that to her again.

  But, despite her enthusiasm, something nagged at her. She was playing with fire.

  I. Don’t. Care.

  She wanted to burn and burn and burn, until all of her stress and worries were reduced to ashes, and everything left simply felt good.

  He helped her off the table and she stood on shaking legs, smoothing her skirt back down as she studied his handsome face. He’d been confident enough to guarantee her satisfaction and now she knew why. Cupping her jaw in his hand, he smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip.

  “In all my years in business I’ve made deals that have netted me billions, but I think this may be the best deal I’ve ever struck.” He smiled and gripped her close, letting his hand trail down to her lower back and pulling her against him. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her—thought she might die if he didn’t—but instead he spoke softly, his eyes locked to hers. “Kneel down and take me in your mouth.”

  Her lips parted and her still-sensitive core twanged with pleasure at his bald demand. She’d expected something like this but it still shocked her when it came. He didn’t mince words. And where her first thought perhaps could have been shock, to her surprise, it wasn’t. Her first thought instead was how much she wanted to do exactly what he demanded. She clenched the muscles in her well-serviced pussy realizing she still wasn’t done enjoying him.

  “Okay, Mr. Hawthorne,” she whispered, and she knelt.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WITH THE SHOCK of an early-morning alarm clock, Evie’s cell phone shrilled to life in the charged, quiet air of the library, startling them both.

  She jumped to her feet and jerked her attention to the table where her cell sat forgotten. She watched John’s name flash on the phone’s display, and reality slammed sickeningly back into her. Her stomach flip-flopped queasily, as if John had actually walked in and spied them in the compromising position.

  “Fuck,” Ford snarled under his breath as Evie reached for the phone with a shaking hand.

  “I’m sorry. It’s my boss. I’ve got to take this,” she said, not taking her eyes from the name on the screen.

  “Of course.” Ford’s clipped words were polite but his tone was clearly displeased at the interruption. She walked away to get some privacy. There was no telling which John she’d get on the phone, and she didn’t want Ford to overhear her dealing with him. Closing her eyes she pressed the answer button. The phone had rung four times already, and John was likely to be incensed that she hadn’t answered more quickly.

  “H-hello.” She winced, hoping John hadn’t noticed the slight tremor in her voice. While he surely had no idea what he’d interrupted, she couldn’t help but be freaked out that not less than five minutes ago her legs had been spread eagle with the firm’s biggest client’s face between them. It would be dangerous for her and Ford if John found out.

  “Well gee, Eves, I’m glad you could find some time to answer my apparently unimportant phone call.” Unchecked contempt oozed from John’s voice. Wrapping her free arm protectively around herself, she hunched her shoulders toward the phone pressed to her ear.

  “I’m meeting with Mr. Hawthorne. I didn’t want—”

  “Shut up. You’re a fucking paralegal. You shouldn’t even get to talk to a client as important as Ford Hawthorne.”

  Evie narrowed her eyes and inhaled silently.

  He’s a snake, she reminded herself. You’re better than him. He might live in a fancy house and wear expensive clothes, but he’s gutter-scum. There will come a day when you’ll be free.

  As soon as she finished paying him the money she owed him, she’d be long gone. But until then, she was being forced to play his bitch. And she wasn’t very good at it.

  Unfortunately, E
vie had two qualities that always made things worse with John. Rebelliousness bordering on recklessness, and not much deference for authority. Especially an authority who so clearly didn’t deserve respect.

  Her voice was icy. “We don’t want to keep Mr. Hawthorne waiting. What can I do for you?” She wouldn’t hang up or curse at him—she’d learned fighting him only made her life more miserable than it already was, especially given that half the time John was high and unpredictable. But she wasn’t about to play his cowed handmaiden either.

  John coughed out a harsh laugh that hurt her ear and she flinched, angry at him and angrier at herself for cringing, though she knew he couldn’t see her reaction. “Sometimes I cannot understand how you even got this job.” He laughed again. “And everyone’s always going on about how smart you are. You called me.”

  If he were seven years old his tone couldn’t have been more childish.

  She groaned inwardly. John was high as a kite. Again. Checking her watch she saw it was almost nine o’clock. Of course he was high. Every Thursday night he hit the city’s upscale martini club after work with his litigation buddies so they could regale each other with exaggerated, or completely made-up, tales of their legal triumphs and snort lines of coke at their outrageously expensive, private, VIP table. He was probably fifteen minutes from ordering a hooker. Hugging her arm tighter around herself, Evie closed her eyes.

  She tried not to beat herself up at her naiveté, but now that the blinders were off, she couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. A now-jaded idiot. But then, John had put on quite a show when they’d been together, his courtroom acting skills on full-bore. He’d shown her exactly what she’d wanted to see, and she’d lapped it up.

  But this time, resentment overwhelmed her better sense. “Jesus Christ, John,” she hissed, gripping the phone with both hands in her frustration. “You’re so smashed you don’t even remember calling me. I’m hanging up so I can finish your work. Don’t call me back.”