Game For Love
Page 18
Julie couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so off-kilter.
So emotional.
So horny.
He wasn't nearly as dumb as she wished he was. She needed to stop freaking out over every little thing, thereby giving him endless ammo to hold over her.
In the past twenty-four hours she'd been angrier, happier, and more satisfied than she'd been in the past ten years combined.
All because of Ty — damn him.
When she'd seen his massive iron bed, she'd been hit by breathtaking images of them rolling around naked on it. It made a demon inside her leap to life, one who wanted to be tied up by Ty, who got hot at the thought of lying naked on his bed, her arms up over her head bound by a silk tie. She'd practically heard herself begging him to take her, harder, faster.
Enough!
From this moment forward, she was going to keep her hormones in check. Even if he made her scream in ecstasy, he'd leave her heart stone cold in the morning.
Julie sat on a chaise lounge and put her feet up on the soft cushions. She pulled a pen and a leatherbound notepad out of her bag, deciding to use Ty's workout time to make some notes on her plans for his transformation rather than worrying and drooling over him.
But just as she put pen to paper, Ty emerged from the house. She'd thought his washboard stomach at eighteen was impressive, but the hard, rippling, muscles mere feet from her now were beyond anything she could have imagined.
She lost her breath somewhere between the deep indents of his abdominal muscles and the line of dark hair running from his navel into his low-slung swim shorts. She tried to look away, but she couldn't help but appreciate the beautiful cut of his triceps, the play of the muscles on his back, and the deep valley between his shoulders. The tip of her pen dug into her palm but she didn't feel it, too busy trying to deal with the lust coursing through her.
She burned to touch him. She yearned to taste him, to run her tongue over the hills and valleys of his incredibly hard abs.
She pulled her gaze up to his eyes, expecting to see victory there. He had to know the kind of power he held over her.
But instead of triumph, something dark and heady simmered in his dark brown eyes. Something that told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
A soft voice inside her whispered, Take what you want. Use him the way he used you. She scrambled off the chair, nearly turning her ankle on the flagstone patio. She couldn't give in to what her body wanted. She had to remember how bad he was for her.
Julie," he said, his voice a caress.
She picked up her bag and held it in front of her like a shield. "Go swim. Please."
Ty was an eighty-five-degree pool kind of guy, but today he needed a cold mountain lake to cool off. Julie wasn't ready—that was the problem. It was one thing to seduce her in his underground refuge yesterday; he'd wanted to prove to her that she wasn't immune to him, no matter what she professed. But maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a game anymore.
What if he really wanted her to stick around? Then what?
He finished his laps and shook off like a dog before reaching for his towel. He'd had a hard-on that wouldn't quit since he'd first walked into her office. Frankly, it was getting old. Without saying a word to her, he headed into the shower. He couldn't believe he was about to take care of himself when there was a beautiful woman in his house. He hadn't had to do that since he was a teenager.
Hot water blasted over him as he leaned against the tiles, then reached for his c**k and pictured her naked in the shower with him, water running over her perfect tits, licking the drops off her ni**les. He'd follow the streaming water running over her belly, between her legs with his hand. He'd slip one finger in her, and she'd be tight and wet and he'd drop to his knees and pull her pu**y into his mouth, force his tongue into her, hard and fast until she was screaming. Then just as she started to come, he'd pull her down on top of him and she'd take his c**k all the way inside, while their bodies slipped wet and hot against each other. Ty roared in the glass and tile confines of his shower as come spilled into his hand. Next time, it wouldn't be a fantasy. He wouldn't be doing this by himself. He'd be inside Julie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Julie wanted to feel safe again, and the one place she'd always felt totally at ease was at work. Then again, she'd never had a six-foot-two bundle of muscle and sensuality prowling around her office. Even her employees had been reduced to quivering masses of hormones when she'd introduced Ty—and these were smart, savvy women.
She checked email and tried to ignore Ty snooping around her bookshelf, her artwork, her desk. "You built this business all by yourself?" She looked up from her keyboard. "Of course I did."
"No need to get all defensive. It was just a question."
She bit back a protest. He was right; she was acting defensive. It was just that everyone always assumed her parents had helped her out. But she never took their friends as clients. Her business success depended entirely on how she and her employees performed. Not because she was Daddy's little girl, or because Mommy took her shopping for clients at society teas.
"I love what I do," she finally said.
He nodded. "Me too. It's a good thing to like your job. Beats the hell out of hating it." An actual conversation that wasn't loaded with double entendres. She wasn't sure she was comfortable with that, actually. At least when they were sniping at each other, everything made sense. Better keep on your guard, she told herself yet again.
Her front door opened and her receptionist hissed, "Rachel Noah's here," into her intercom.
"Oh shit," she muttered under her breath. Rachel held the strings to some big new political clients.
"Please be nice to her," she begged Ty. "Say all the right things. Just this once." He raised an eyebrow. "One kiss."
She barely had time to process his request, to understand that a barter was being made.
"Okay. One. Now don't screw this up."
Julie smiled and greeted Rachel just outside her office door. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. Rachel looked like she'd been sucking lemons. "Amy told my boss that she'll be taking over our account for the next month, and he just screamed at me for an hour. You'd better have a good explanation." If ever there was a time for Ty's innate charm and good looks to work their magic, it was now. Ty turned from the window and in an instant, Rachel's demeanor changed. She no longer wanted Julie's ass on a platter. She was obviously envisioning a gorgeous NFL superstar in her bed, instead.
"I'd like to introduce you to Ty Calhoun, my newest client." Julie usually appreciated her own curves. But standing this close to a stick-thin woman who could have been ruling the catwalk in Milan rather than working on political campaigns was more than a little depressing. Ty would naturally want to sleep with Rachel—what man wouldn't?
So emotional.
So horny.
He wasn't nearly as dumb as she wished he was. She needed to stop freaking out over every little thing, thereby giving him endless ammo to hold over her.
In the past twenty-four hours she'd been angrier, happier, and more satisfied than she'd been in the past ten years combined.
All because of Ty — damn him.
When she'd seen his massive iron bed, she'd been hit by breathtaking images of them rolling around naked on it. It made a demon inside her leap to life, one who wanted to be tied up by Ty, who got hot at the thought of lying naked on his bed, her arms up over her head bound by a silk tie. She'd practically heard herself begging him to take her, harder, faster.
Enough!
From this moment forward, she was going to keep her hormones in check. Even if he made her scream in ecstasy, he'd leave her heart stone cold in the morning.
Julie sat on a chaise lounge and put her feet up on the soft cushions. She pulled a pen and a leatherbound notepad out of her bag, deciding to use Ty's workout time to make some notes on her plans for his transformation rather than worrying and drooling over him.
But just as she put pen to paper, Ty emerged from the house. She'd thought his washboard stomach at eighteen was impressive, but the hard, rippling, muscles mere feet from her now were beyond anything she could have imagined.
She lost her breath somewhere between the deep indents of his abdominal muscles and the line of dark hair running from his navel into his low-slung swim shorts. She tried to look away, but she couldn't help but appreciate the beautiful cut of his triceps, the play of the muscles on his back, and the deep valley between his shoulders. The tip of her pen dug into her palm but she didn't feel it, too busy trying to deal with the lust coursing through her.
She burned to touch him. She yearned to taste him, to run her tongue over the hills and valleys of his incredibly hard abs.
She pulled her gaze up to his eyes, expecting to see victory there. He had to know the kind of power he held over her.
But instead of triumph, something dark and heady simmered in his dark brown eyes. Something that told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
A soft voice inside her whispered, Take what you want. Use him the way he used you. She scrambled off the chair, nearly turning her ankle on the flagstone patio. She couldn't give in to what her body wanted. She had to remember how bad he was for her.
Julie," he said, his voice a caress.
She picked up her bag and held it in front of her like a shield. "Go swim. Please."
Ty was an eighty-five-degree pool kind of guy, but today he needed a cold mountain lake to cool off. Julie wasn't ready—that was the problem. It was one thing to seduce her in his underground refuge yesterday; he'd wanted to prove to her that she wasn't immune to him, no matter what she professed. But maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a game anymore.
What if he really wanted her to stick around? Then what?
He finished his laps and shook off like a dog before reaching for his towel. He'd had a hard-on that wouldn't quit since he'd first walked into her office. Frankly, it was getting old. Without saying a word to her, he headed into the shower. He couldn't believe he was about to take care of himself when there was a beautiful woman in his house. He hadn't had to do that since he was a teenager.
Hot water blasted over him as he leaned against the tiles, then reached for his c**k and pictured her naked in the shower with him, water running over her perfect tits, licking the drops off her ni**les. He'd follow the streaming water running over her belly, between her legs with his hand. He'd slip one finger in her, and she'd be tight and wet and he'd drop to his knees and pull her pu**y into his mouth, force his tongue into her, hard and fast until she was screaming. Then just as she started to come, he'd pull her down on top of him and she'd take his c**k all the way inside, while their bodies slipped wet and hot against each other. Ty roared in the glass and tile confines of his shower as come spilled into his hand. Next time, it wouldn't be a fantasy. He wouldn't be doing this by himself. He'd be inside Julie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Julie wanted to feel safe again, and the one place she'd always felt totally at ease was at work. Then again, she'd never had a six-foot-two bundle of muscle and sensuality prowling around her office. Even her employees had been reduced to quivering masses of hormones when she'd introduced Ty—and these were smart, savvy women.
She checked email and tried to ignore Ty snooping around her bookshelf, her artwork, her desk. "You built this business all by yourself?" She looked up from her keyboard. "Of course I did."
"No need to get all defensive. It was just a question."
She bit back a protest. He was right; she was acting defensive. It was just that everyone always assumed her parents had helped her out. But she never took their friends as clients. Her business success depended entirely on how she and her employees performed. Not because she was Daddy's little girl, or because Mommy took her shopping for clients at society teas.
"I love what I do," she finally said.
He nodded. "Me too. It's a good thing to like your job. Beats the hell out of hating it." An actual conversation that wasn't loaded with double entendres. She wasn't sure she was comfortable with that, actually. At least when they were sniping at each other, everything made sense. Better keep on your guard, she told herself yet again.
Her front door opened and her receptionist hissed, "Rachel Noah's here," into her intercom.
"Oh shit," she muttered under her breath. Rachel held the strings to some big new political clients.
"Please be nice to her," she begged Ty. "Say all the right things. Just this once." He raised an eyebrow. "One kiss."
She barely had time to process his request, to understand that a barter was being made.
"Okay. One. Now don't screw this up."
Julie smiled and greeted Rachel just outside her office door. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. Rachel looked like she'd been sucking lemons. "Amy told my boss that she'll be taking over our account for the next month, and he just screamed at me for an hour. You'd better have a good explanation." If ever there was a time for Ty's innate charm and good looks to work their magic, it was now. Ty turned from the window and in an instant, Rachel's demeanor changed. She no longer wanted Julie's ass on a platter. She was obviously envisioning a gorgeous NFL superstar in her bed, instead.
"I'd like to introduce you to Ty Calhoun, my newest client." Julie usually appreciated her own curves. But standing this close to a stick-thin woman who could have been ruling the catwalk in Milan rather than working on political campaigns was more than a little depressing. Ty would naturally want to sleep with Rachel—what man wouldn't?
