“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled.
Though he finally shut the hell up and got to work. It was hard and fast, desperate and angry, yet it felt so damn good. I don’t think I’d ever gotten revved up so quickly—certainly not in the last year and a half of Mr. Rogers making love to me.
That thought, the thought of Liam, channeled all my anger toward the man currently pummeling my insides. Even though Weston was already pounding into me, I started to move with him, meeting every thrust, blow by blow. When he slid one hand around to massage my clit, I lost it.
Orgasms were something I usually had to work for. Like driving a car around the track for the Indy 500, I hoped I made it before my partner ran out of gas. But not today. Today my orgasm was more like a crash before I’d even made it through the first lap. It hit me with an intensity I hadn’t expected, and my body quaked as I let out a loud moan.
“Fuck.” Weston sped up his thrusts. “I can feel you squeezing my cock.” He pumped once, twice, and on the third time let out a ferocious roar and plunged to a new depth. My body enveloped him so tightly I could feel the pulsations as he unloaded inside of me, even through the condom.
We stood that way for a long time, both of us panting and attempting to control our breaths. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. I’d been so pent up with anger and frustration the last month, and suddenly it felt like the cork had popped off, and it was all about to come flooding out. Jesus. Great timing. No way was I going to let Weston see the flood I felt approaching. So I swallowed the lump in my throat and did what luckily came natural to me whenever I was around him. I acted like an asshole.
“Are we done? If so, you can leave now.”
“Not until you tell me how much you loved me inside of you.”
I tried to stand, but Weston spread his fingers between my shoulder blades and held me down.
“Let me up!”
“Say it. Say how much you love my cock.”
“I’ll do nothing of the sort. Now let me go before I scream bloody murder and hotel security comes running.”
“Sweetheart, you spent the last ten minutes screaming. If you haven’t noticed, no one seems to give a shit.” Yet he pulled out and helped me upright.
It would have been better if he’d pulled out and left me standing there for the cold air to replace his warmth. But instead, after he made sure I had my balance, he tugged down my skirt. “You good? I need to get rid of this condom in your bathroom.”
I nodded and avoided eye contact. It was bad enough my emotions were hitting me hard. The last thing I needed was niceties from Weston Lockwood.
He went into the bathroom, and I used the moments alone to pull myself together. My hair was disheveled, and my breasts overflowed from my pushed-down bra. I fixed both and grabbed a bottle of water from the minibar while I waited for Weston to come out of the bathroom. I didn’t have to wait long.
Trying to avoid whatever awkward goodbye would ensue, I stood near the windows on the opposite side of the room, gazing out at nothing in particular. I hoped he’d just wave and slither out.
Then again, a Lockwood never did what a Sterling wanted.
Weston walked up behind me. He took the water bottle out of my hand and drank from it, then wound a lock of my hair around his pointer finger. “I like your hair like this. It’s longer than you wore it in high school. And it’s wavy now. Did you used to make it straight?”
I looked at him like he was nuts. “Yes. I used to straighten it. And thanks for the reminder it’s time for a haircut. I think I’ll chop it all off.”
“What color would you say it is? Chestnut?”
The confusion lines in my forehead deepened. “I have no idea.”
He grinned. “You know your eyes turn from green to almost gray when you’re angry.”
“Did someone teach you your colors today in nursery school or something?”
Weston brought the water bottle back to his lips and sucked the rest of it down. He handed it to me empty. “Ready for round two?”
I continued to stare straight ahead. “There won’t be a round two. Not tonight or ever. Get out, Lockwood.”
Even though I’d been trying not to look at him, I caught his mouth curving into a smile in the window reflection.
“Care to wager on that?” he asked.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I needed a release. You were here. At best you were adequate. This isn’t going to become a habit.”
“Adequate? For that remark, I’m going to make you beg next time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Get out. This was a gigantic mistake.”
“A mistake? Oh yeah, I forgot you like scrawny dudes who are into literature and shit. Would it help if I brushed up on some poetry and recited it while we banged next time?”
“Out!”
Weston shook his head. “Okay…but like Shakespeare said, It’s better to have fucked and lost, than never to have fucked at all.”
I almost let a smile slip out. “I don’t think that’s exactly what he said. But close.”
He shrugged. “Guy was a bore anyway.”
“Goodnight, Weston.”
“Such a shame. Using your own fingers to the memory of what I felt like won’t be half as much fun as round two.”
“You have delusions of grandeur.”
“’Night, Feef. Great to see you again.”
“The feeling isn’t mutual.”
Weston walked to the door. It creaked as he opened it, and I watched in the window reflection as he turned around and looked back at me for a few heartbeats. Then he was gone.
I shut my eyes and shook my head.
When I opened them, the last thirty minutes or so really hit me.
Holy crap. What the hell did I just do?
Chapter 3
* * *
Sophia
I’d totally screwed up.
And I needed to fix it. Fast.
Before anyone else found out, and before I put what I was here to do in any sort of jeopardy.
Weston walked into the conference room the next morning at exactly eight forty-five. Our meeting was to start at nine o’clock. He grinned like a Cheshire cat upon finding me already inside.
“Good morning,” he said. “Beautiful day today.”
I took a deep breath. “Sit.”
He thumbed toward the door. “Should I lock it? Or do you want to keep things a little on edge—chance getting caught? I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Someone walking in while your skirt was hiked up and my—”
I cut him off. “Shut the hell up and sit down, Lockwood!”
He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
The jerk thought we were role-playing. But I was anything but playing. As far as I was concerned, my job was on the line. I waited until he sat and then took the seat across from him on the opposite side of the conference table.
Folding my hands, I said, “Last night never happened.”
A smug smile spread across his annoyingly handsome face. “Oh, but it did.”
“Let me rephrase. We’re going to pretend like nothing happened.”
“Why would I do that when I can close my eyes at any time and relive the moment?” He leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. “Oh yeah, this is one I plan to watch over and over again. That sound you made when you came all over my cock? I couldn’t forget if I tried.”