Marie Harte - Closing the Deal

He’d passed a ton of friends and old clients, as well as a few old girlfriends—an unavoidable happenstance in a business that networked as much as his did. He managed to shake free of most of them. And then he saw Brittney Adams heading toward him.

“Shit.” He turned and made a beeline for Dylan, who was dressed exactly the same. “Bro, I need help.”

Dylan saw Brittney and set his jaw. “My pleasure.”

While Dylan intercepted Brittney, Derrick headed for Gage. Until he spied one hot redhead wearing a French maid’s outfit. He took an unconscious step in her direction, unable to think about anything but bending her over and sinking his dick inside her. How he’d managed to keep them platonic the past few weeks still boggled his mind. Just being around her aroused him, but he’d wanted more from her than a few fucks. No matter how sexy she was or how many times she hinted she wanted to hit the sheets with him, he’d wanted to prove to her he had more going on than good game.

Which should have worked. She’d seemed to enjoy their time spent playing cards, taking walks and bowling. Hell, they’d even gone miniature golfing; the woman had beaten him without trying. They’d laughed and held hands a few times until she’d remembered not to act like a couple.

Dylan told him to bide his time. To keep it light. But Dylan hadn’t mentioned how to react to Sydney laughing it up with some muscled bozo dressed as Tarzan. No wimp, but some tall, blond dude who had his hands all over her.

Fuck that.

Derrick stormed over to the pair, pleased when Sydney’s eyes widened. If she moved the wrong way, he’d be able to see down that excuse for a costume or up that barely-there skirt. Sydney’s friend stood way too close.

She licked her lips. A nervous tell, and he wanted to crow with glee when she took a half step away from the half-dressed asshole still draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Sydney?” Tarzan asked, his voice questioning as he watched Derrick bearing down on them.

“Brian, I—”

The asshole client she’d mentioned, or another Brian? Either way, it didn’t matter. Derrick yanked her away from the guy and tossed her over his shoulder. People around them cheered as the buccaneer stole himself a woman.

“That’s right, little maid.” He smacked her hard on the ass, glad as hell that he’d booked a room at the hotel right next door. He’d thought about a nicer hotel, but he needed proximity to seduce and take proper advantage of her. After Gage had told him about Sydney crying all over Hailey—because of her feelings for him —he knew his plan had worked. He’d prepared well for tonight. The hotel, his bag of tricks, the silken scarves… His skittish lover had finally taken the bait. He just needed to reel her in. “Now you’re pirate booty. Not a word until we’re in my room, or I’ll make you walk the plank.”

He glanced behind him to see Brian watching him with a smile. Then Hailey and Gage were there talking to the half-dressed guy. To stop him from calling the cops or following maybe? Derrick didn’t much care. He finally had what he’d come for.

A few waves and chuckles from guests met him as he made quick time to his room. The shirt gaped at his chest and he had a fake sword on his hip. The bandana and eyepatch were great, but it was the woman over his shoulder that really completed the outfit.

To his bemusement, his captive didn’t complain much. A few grumbles, curses and shifting over his shoulder. But that was it. He entered his room on the first floor—thank God—with relish. The door closed behind them with a loud bang, and he took a few more steps inside and tossed his wench on the bed.

He placed his hands on his hips and glared down at her, no longer playing. “Who the fuck was Tarzan?”

She leaned back on her elbows and pushed her hair out of her face. He loved that gorgeous mass of red silk. He planned to see it against his belly and hips while he fucked her mouth.

“What do you care? We’re just friends , Derrick. Remember?”

Outraged she’d throw that bullshit back in his face after all their time spent together the past few weeks—hell, the past few months —he ripped the bandana and eyepatch from his face and threw them to the floor.

“Fuck that. You’re mine and you damn well know it.” He wasn’t sure how she did it, but she made him forget himself when he was with her. All he could think about was Sydney—as a lover, a mate, a person he loved spending time with.

“How would I know? It’s not like we do more than talk.”

Hell, he’d gotten hard the moment he’d seen her. His dick never let him forget her, not for a minute.

“Need a reminder, hmm?” He stared hard at her breasts, barely contained by the low-riding costume, at her legs all but bared by the short skirt and those fuck-me heels. Christ, she had garters on. How had he missed that? Garters.

Derrick lost his mind. He crossed to the bed and pulled her off it, up into his arms. Then he kissed her until neither of them could breathe. As he did, he ground against her, needing to come. There was something visceral about being with her now. Something meaningful. Fucking her wasn’t just physical, but an emotional desire to tie her to him with something she couldn’t forget.

“You little witch. God, Sydney. You make me so hard all the time.” He yanked down what could loosely be called her shirt and stared at her hard nipples.

“Want me to dust something for you?” she asked, coy and panting for breath.

“No.” He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed, wondering if she’d go for it. To his amazement, she moved to her knees. He shoved down his pants, glad he’d left the underwear at home. “Suck me, baby. Take me to the back of your fucking throat and make me come.”

She moaned. And then her mouth was over him, licking and sucking. Tentative fingers played with his sac, then grew firmer when he sighed at her touch. His balls felt as hard as rocks, and too sensitive.

“Oh yeah. I’ve been dreaming about this for days. Weeks. Fucking your mouth. Oh man, I wish you could see how sexy you look.”

He stared down at her, watching himself disappear between her lips. When she moved, he could also see the swell of her breasts, those plump nipples stabbing the air.

“I’m going to eat you, baby. Lick that clit and suck you until you come. And then I’m going to finally fuck that ass. You’re mine, Sydney. And it’s time you knew it.”

Dylan had given him a plan his mother would have been horrified by. Because it involved a lot of fucking. Sydney needed more than emotional crap, they had realized. The woman needed sex. She was a lot like him in so many ways. A lot of her issues with her mother revolved around intimacy, the communion between a man and a woman, the loss of a father figure. The need for a strong man in her life. Dylan was at times an ass, but he knew his stuff.

Sydney needed to belong to Derrick, even as she was afraid of tying herself to him.

Fucking, to her, meant acceptance. And then he’d have to prove he wasn’t leaving. The key to winning his woman’s heart would be sticking around for the long term while he loved her into admitting how she felt.

And damn if she wasn’t loving him right now. She took him deeper into her mouth. To his shock, he couldn’t stop pumping his hips.

“Sydney, I’m gonna fill that pretty mouth. And then I need to fuck your tits. Oh baby.”

She ran her hands down his thighs and back up, prodding him to widen his stance. He moved his feet, and then her hands pushed past his thighs to his balls and slid along his perineum. A finger crept to his hole, and he surged harder down her throat.