No Strings Attached Page 8

  Her nails scratch my back as she digs in deeper. “Harder,” she pleads, but she doesn’t have to. I’ll give her anything she wants. Any fucking thing.

  As sweat beads up on my forehead, I thrust harder, giving her the friction she desires. Looking down, I’m glad we kept the lights on. I missed out on so much the first time. I love seeing the desperation in her eyes, knowing she’s as into this as I am. The blindfold was great, but this is better.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I tell her, chasing my breath.

  Her mouth falls open, like she’s going to say something, but all that comes out is a satisfied moan before her eyes fall shut and she pushes her head farther into the pillow.

  I take the opportunity to feast on her neck, tasting and nipping, letting my lips hover around the base near her shoulder.

  She moves her hands from my back to my hair and pulls tight, crying out as I rock harder against her.

  There’s no barrier except for the condom on my dick. Nothing between us but the sweat dripping from our bodies. I don’t want to come yet. I want this to last, so I switch positions, rolling onto my back and taking her with me. Her hands press into my chest as she creates her own rhythm—riding me, owning me.

  “Do whatever feels good, Quinn. I want to see you come. I want to see that beautiful face when you fall apart on top of me.”

  Taking my words as her cue, she does just that. She uses me for her pleasure. I grip her hips, my fingertips digging into her soft skin, encouraging her to be as fast and hard as she needs to get off. Before long, she tightens around me as her entire body trembles and she completely comes undone. I lean up, holding her to me, allowing her to ride out her orgasm. It takes a few minutes, but she slowly comes back to me.

  I push the damp hair from her face and look into her eyes. Something about this—the position, the closeness—feels too right, too vulnerable. With a hooded gaze, she watches me. I think about pulling out and finishing myself off in the bathroom because I’m not sure if she wants to continue. She looks spent, and I don’t want to take any more than she wants to give. But before I can move her off me, she pushes up and sits back on her heels, giving me the most glorious view of her hot, slick center and her flushed tits. She looks wild, feral, and freshly fucked. It’s her best look yet. She’s always beautiful, but I’d like to keep her this way 24/7.

  Me.

  Her.

  No one else.

  Just us.

  Waiting for her cue, I sit there, my dick at full attention. Her eyes travel down my body, and she smirks at my cock before looking me in the eye. “How do you want me?” she asks boldly.

  Holy fuck.

  I swallow hard. “On your hands and knees,” I tell her without thinking.

  Giving me a wicked smile, she climbs to the center of the bed with her ass in the air.

  I take a moment to say a prayer of gratitude and then take a deep breath to keep from blowing my load before I get back inside her.

  Dead puppies.

  Saggy grandma titties.

  I line up to her entrance and slide in. It’s hot and wet and fucking heaven. For a second, I just bask in the goodness of Quinn’s pussy until I have to move. With my hands gripping her round ass tightly, I pull back and then slam back in, watching myself enter her over and over.

  Her choppy breaths and screams of pleasure spur me on. When she turns her head around to watch, I lose it. With short quick thrusts, I come so hard and long, my vision blurs.

  Quinn falls onto her elbows, and it takes all my strength to hold myself off her. Leaning back on my heels, I pull out and carefully roll the condom off. Barely making it off the bed without face-planting, I toss the condom in the trash and then fall back down on the bed beside Quinn.

  We lie there, breathing, letting our heads come back from wherever they’ve been.

  After a few minutes, she slowly rolls toward me, and I feel her eyes on me.

  I guess we should talk.

  “So, how do we do this?” I ask, running my hand through my hair. I don’t want to come off too needy, so I try to play her game. Keep things casual.

  “I have your number,” she says, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. “I’ll text you.”

  Needing to see her face, I turn on my side. “And what if I can’t make it?”

  She shrugs before answering. “That’s fine.”

  “What if I want to see you?” I ask.

  “Then you can text me.”

  The fact she’s giving me permission to text her—albeit for sex—is a huge step in the right direction. Contact with her, in any shape or form, is what I want.

  “What should I say?” I ask, not wanting to mess this up before we even get started.

  “Emergency.”

  I laugh, trying to make light of this arrangement we’re making, but thinking of this in a casual manner doesn’t sit well with me. “Okay.”

  “And if I can’t make it,” she adds, giving me a sly smile. “I’ll text back, ‘call 911’.”

  This time, my laugh is real.

  She looks at me and her eyes are light and carefree. “And we meet here,” she says. “If I text you, I’ll pay for the room. If you text me, you pay for the room.”

  “What about Sundays?” I ask, feeling a rock thud as it drops into the pit of my stomach when she turns her head towards me. The sparkle in her eyes fades and the seriousness returns.

  She looks at me hard as her teeth come down on her bottom lip. “I guess we can still do Sundays at the park,” she says tentatively. “On one condition.”

  “Whatever you want,” I tell her, because not seeing Henry would really suck. I’m trying to keep the desperation out of my voice, but I think I’m failing.

  Her features soften for a moment, but then her eyebrows squeeze together, like she’s thinking really hard. “Don’t get attached, okay?”

  It’s a gut punch for sure, but I pretend like it’s not. “No,” I shake my head, more for myself than her. “I’m not. I just… well, Fergie really loves playing with Henry. She doesn’t get much outside time because I’m always working and sh—”

  “It’s fine, Jude,” she says, cutting off my embarrassing ramble. “Henry really loves it too. I just don’t want to muddy the waters.”

  “No mud. I promise.”

  “Where do you work?” she asks, like it just dawned on her she doesn’t know. “You know where I work, so I think it’s only fair that I know where you work.”

  Tit for tat. Is that how it is? I smile, kind of loving I have something over on her, but it fades quickly because unlike her, I want her to know everything about me… my job, my family, where I see myself in five years. But I start with my job. “I work for Wallace Advertising.”

  She nods her head. “Advertising,” she says, mulling it over. “So, what exactly do you do?”

  “Right now, we’re getting ready to pitch our sales campaign idea to McDavid.”

  “The big car dealership?” she asks, sliding off the bed and gathering her clothes.

  “Yep. Our meeting is this Wednesday,” I tell her, looking at the time and knowing I need to get home. Speaking of McDavid reminds me that Sebastian and I still have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow to prepare for the meeting.

  “Is that a pretty big account?” She walks into the bathroom, and I can’t help but watch her as she goes—her ass bouncing perfectly and her dark hair swaying loosely down her back.

  I clear my throat and my thoughts, forcing myself back into the conversation. “One of the biggest I’ve worked on so far.”

  “That’s good. Do you like it?” she asks loudly, splashing water on her face and then drying it with a towel. When she walks back out, her hair is once again twisted up in a bun.

  “I do. It’s competitive, and the environment is always changing. I love a challenge, and advertising offers plenty of those. We have season tickets for the Oilers on the line with this one.” I pull my jeans on, stuffing my still semi-erect cock
into the confines. I think as long as I’m in the vicinity of Quinn, I’ll always be somewhat hard. It’s like a law of physics or some shit.

  “Oh, I see. A little side bet to sweeten the deal.” She smiles as she slips her own jeans on.

  Grabbing my shirt from beside the bed, I yank it over my head. “Yeah, our boss knows how to dangle the carrot in front of us.”

  “You keep saying we and us. Do you have a partner?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been working with Sebastian on this campaign.”

  Fastening her bra and hiding her fabulous tits, she asks, “Really? That big guy is in advertising?”

  As each piece of her body gets covered, I miss it.

  “Sebastian is fierce. I know he comes off like a big kid, but he’s really good at his job.”

  Grabbing my shoes, I realize how domestic this all feels, dressing together and having a normal conversation. Don’t get attached. Right.

  “You two are tight,” she says from behind her shirt before she slips it over her head.

  I smile at the way her hair gets a little messed up, loving the look on her. She’s perfectly imperfect and I find my heart squeezing when our eyes meet. Clearing my throat, I reply, “Yeah, we’ve been friends forever. Long before Wallace.”

  “That’s nice.” She smiles softly and slips her feet into the combat boots.

  “Yeah.” I stand there, fully dressed, wishing like hell we could rewind and go back to me opening the door and her standing there. I want to do it all over again… and again… and again.

  “Well,” she says, putting her bag on her shoulder and slipping her phone into her pocket. “I guess I should go.”

  “Yeah,” is all I can say. I want to say so much more, but I don’t. More would scare her off. More would close the tiny bit of space she’s allowed me in. More would send us back to being mere acquaintances. So I’ll bide my time, and I’ll take what she can give me. For now. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  As we walk out the door and into the hall, I put my hand on the small of her back, and she tenses slightly. It’s small, but I feel it, so I drop my hand and settle for walking close to her.

  “So, how’d you get into nursing?” I ask, trying to make small talk and hold on to her presence just a little while longer.

  “Uh, my dad,” she replies, but I feel the weight in her words, and something tells me there’s more there. “And I’m not a nurse. I’m a physician’s assistant.”

  “Oh, I just saw your name badge that night I was in the ER and assumed…” I say, walking onto the elevator behind her.

  “Yeah, I was going for my MD, but stuff happened… life,” she says, trailing off, not saying too much. Her head dips forward, and I watch her as she watches her feet. When the elevator stops on the ground floor, we step out into the quiet, empty lobby. At this time of night, not many people are checking in or out of the Omni. “Anyway, I changed courses and became a PA. It’s good. It allows me to work in the ER, which is something I’ve always wanted. It’s fast-paced and challenging.”

  “Kinda like advertising,” I say, smiling.

  She offers me a small smile in return and nods. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Well, this is me,” she says, pointing to the beat-up Volkswagen.

  “I had fun tonight,” I tell her, feeling my cheeks heat up with the admission.

  Unlocking the car, she tosses her bag into the passenger seat. “Me too… I’ll see you later.”

  “Sunday, if not before,” I add, not ready to let her go.

  She nods and gets in the car. “Hope you have a good meeting on Wednesday.”

  “Thanks.” I smile and watch as she closes the door, only to roll down the window. “What constitutes an emergency?” I ask, bracing my hands against the car door.

  She twists her lips to keep from smiling. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

  “Keep your phone handy,” I say with a wink.

  She rolls her eyes and laughs. Without another word, she drives away, once again leaving me watching her tail lights and wishing she was still here… always leaving me wanting more.

  Chapter 11

  Wednesday morning, Sebastian strides into my office wearing his power suit, complete with a silk tie and cufflinks. I can see in his eyes he’s ready to win this account, and I’m confident he can see the same in mine. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since six. I was so hyped up I couldn’t sleep any longer.” I lean over the pool table and knock the eight ball into the corner pocket before immediately setting up for another game.

  To be honest, today’s pitch for the McDavid account wasn’t the only thing keeping me up. I haven’t seen nor heard from Quinn since our night at the hotel, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s only been a couple of days, but now that I’ve had her—really had her—I need more. Now. However, my stubborn side isn’t letting me give in too soon.

  Sebastian grabs his pool stick and breaks the balls, landing a striped ball in a pocket. “We so got this, Jude. I even bought myself a personalized Oilers jersey last night as an early congratulations present.”

  I’m not normally a superstitious guy, but my stomach flips, a bit worried we might be too cocky.

  But when I think about all of the hard work Sebastian and I have done on this pitch, I relax again. It seemed daunting at first, coming up with a new ad campaign for one of the biggest car dealerships in the country, but once we started working on it, the great ideas started flowing. Mr. McDavid would be an idiot to not choose us.

  There’s a knock on my office door before Sheila, our office assistant, enters.

  “Good morning. I just wanted to let you know that the conference room is set up with everything you need for the presentation and Mr. McDavid’s secretary called to say he’s on his way. He should be here in about twenty minutes.”

  “Thanks, Sheila. We’ll be ready,” I assure her. She nods her head and leaves while I sink a solid ball in a side pocket.

  After our game, I put on my suit jacket and run my fingers through my hair, hoping to tame it some. Professional appearances are important in this business, and I don’t want Mr. McDavid to think we’re too young or inexperienced to handle his account.

  We’re in the conference room ready to start when McDavid arrives. He shakes our hands and sits at the head of the table before telling us his vice president of sales is running a bit late but will be here soon.

  “Not a problem, Mr. McDavid,” Sebastian tells him. “Would you care to look over our portfolio while we wait?”

  “That’s quite all right, son. I’ve done my homework on you two, and I’m very interested in what your ideas are for my company.”

  “Excellent.” Sebastian beams as he rubs his large hands together. “Jude and I are confident you’ll be pleased with what we have in store for you and the future of David McDavid Automotive.”

  While Sebastian and Mr. McDavid engage in a conversation that covers trucks, football, and where to get the best steak, I zone out and think about Quinn again.

  I can’t figure her out, and it drives me crazy. I know we’re supposed to be casual—fuck buddies or whatever—but the more I’m with her, the more I want. Not just her body, either. I want everything, to know everything.

  The clues she gives me—the things she says and does—they make no sense.

  Her job, her son, the club, two very different vehicles, and those fucking combat boots.

  The way she bites her lip to hide her smile from me, her smoldering eyes, her laugh, and the way she moans my name when I’m inside her.

  What does it all mean?

  Fuck. Now is not the time to let myself get distracted.

  I walk to the corner of the room and pour myself a glass of water. Sebastian and Mr. McDavid are still going on about whether Ronny Torro will survive the next football season when the door opens, allowing a very tall, very blonde woman to walk in.

  “Sorry I’m late, Mr. McDavid, gentlemen,” she says, addr
essing the room with confidence. She gives me a polite smile and a nod of her head before turning to do the same to Sebastian.

  When her eyes reach him, though, her face hardens briefly before a fake grin appears.

  What the hell?

  Looking at Sebastian, I notice he’s gone deathly pale. I don’t even think the guy’s blinking. As much as I can’t wait to find out what the fuck is going on, we have an account to win.

  “Boys, this is my shining star, Lexie Jameson. If I hire you, the three of you will be working very closely during this campaign, so I thought she should sit in on your presentation.”

  “That’s a great idea,” I say, glancing over at Sebastian and silently telling him to get his shit together. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Jameson. I’m Jude Harris.” I offer my hand, and she takes it in her firm grasp, shaking it, showing she means business.

  “Thank you, Mr. Harris. It’s Ms. Jameson, actually.” She turns a hard glare to Sebastian and asks, “And you are?”

  Watching my best friend stammer and sweat in front of a woman is quite entertaining, and it doesn’t happen nearly as often as it should. He finally pushes away from the table and stands, indiscreetly wiping his hand on the leg of his slacks before offering it to Ms. Jameson.

  “I’m Sebastian, ma’am. Sebastian Jones. It’s a pleasure to be in your presence, ma’am. I mean, Miss… uh, Lexie… Jameson. Yeah, Lexie, that’s you. Lexie Jamison, mmhmm.”

  Fuck.

  The words rush from his mouth, and I want to crawl under the table and die from secondhand embarrassment. If he fucks this up, I’ll kill him.

  Thankfully, Mr. McDavid finds the whole encounter thoroughly entertaining and begins howling with laughter. So much so, he’s soon pulling a handkerchief out of his breast pocket to dab at his eyes.

  “Simmer down, Mr. Jones. You’re not the first person my Lexie has had this effect on, and I dare say, you won’t be the last. It’s one of the many reasons I hired her. Her beauty and brains make for a killer combination, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Sebastian simply nods his head, still staring at Lexie. When he finally tries to speak, I notice the way his mouth gapes, but nothing comes out. I can’t take it anymore. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let him ruin this for us, so I stand and grip his shoulder firmly as I make my way to the head of the table. “Thank you for the opportunity to pitch our campaign ideas to you this morning, Mr. McDavid. And Ms. Jameson, I’m so glad you could join us. I hope this is the beginning of a wonderful working relationship.”