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“Yeah, I got that.”

He chuckled. “You handled yourself amazingly back there.”

She knew how important this particular charity was and was just glad she hadn’t messed things up for him. “Hey, it’s not like I’ll see any of them ever again, right? So no skin off my nose.”

His smile slipped. “No. I guess you’re right.”

They climbed into the waiting car, and his hand moved up her spine and slid into her hair before he pressed a kiss to her throat. “Let’s go home. I’ve been desperate to get you out of that dress since you put it on.” He brushed his thumb over her nipple, teasing the piercing. “And all that talk back there has made me desperate for a taste of those pert little nipples. I’d like to tug on that sexy bar and make you scream out my name.”

She kind of wanted that, too. “Sounds good to me.”

Chapter Nine

The dress Deke had brought her to wear for drinks with Tammy the super bitch really was gorgeous, but it wasn’t her. It looked a heck of a lot better crumpled on Deacon’s pale gray carpet. The matching shoes were amazing, though—he had great taste in shoes—and were currently resting against his bare back.

Alex arched and gasped, then looked down her body. Deacon’s dark head didn’t look too shabby buried between her thighs, either.

“Ah…please.” She barely recognized her own voice, all husky and needy. She also didn’t beg. Ever. But it seemed Deacon’s expert tongue could get her to do almost anything. She lifted her hips, seeking more, asking for it without words.

Deacon moved quick as a flash. One minute he was between her thighs, the next he was up and on his back beside her. He did an ab curl, twisted, grabbed her around the waist, and dragged her on top of him.

“Sit on my face,” he growled.

Oh dear God.

Firm hands guided her higher, not giving her the option to refuse—like she ever would. She pressed her palms against the wall to steady herself, thighs resting on either side of his head. His hands went to her ass, holding her up a little, where he wanted her, and that tongue got back to work. She whimpered, desperate to grind down against his face, get herself off. But the sadist wouldn’t let her.

He made a deep growling sound that vibrated through her lower belly, sucking and licking her clit until she was panting and shaking, barely hanging on.

His eyes were open, locked on her, watching, taking in every whimper, every tremor. His fingers moved between the cheeks of her ass, dipping down between her drenched folds then back. He slicked her rear, those scorching green eyes on her the whole time. Massaging the tight ring of muscle, he tested her resistance and growled again when she leaned forward, telling him that she wasn’t giving him any, that she wanted it.

She shivered as delicious anticipation moved through her. Anything Deacon did to her felt good. Always.

His other hand went back to her hip, and he pulled her down on his mouth, tongue sliding inside her while he pushed that slick finger in her ass.

She cried out. “Holy shit.” The added pressure, the exquisite pleasure sent her hurtling over the edge. She came hard against his mouth, hips rolling helplessly. He sucked and licked her sensitive flesh through it without mercy, his finger doing wicked things to her the whole time, until she’d slumped forward in a boneless heap.

His strong hands moved to her waist, and he gently dragged her down his body. He rolled her to her back and tucked her into his side, staring down at her, eyes blazing. “Fuck, I love the way you taste. The way you come hard for me. Those needy sounds you make. I can’t get enough of it.”

His gaze was intense, and it kinda freaked her out. She grinned, trying to lighten things up. “Feel free to do that whenever you like.”

He chuckled darkly. “The night’s not over yet.” He slid to his side of the bed—not that she had a side. She didn’t want a damn side. It was just where he had all his crap sitting on the bedside table—and climbed out.

There was no way to miss the massive erection tenting his black boxer briefs when he stood. She bit her lip. She wanted him inside her. Oh, it was a stupid, ridiculously bad idea to have sex with him, but she wanted to, wanted him. She couldn’t take her eyes off his ass, or the thick slabs of muscle that bunched under the smooth skin of his back as he strode to the bathroom and shut himself in.

Nerves fluttered in her belly. He’d driven her to distraction with want over the last couple of days, made her come several times, and hadn’t asked her to return the favor. She kind of wanted to get it over and done with. All this anticipation was messing with her head. It was all she could think about. The memory of their night together still made her hot and bothered. Yeah, it was a dumb idea, but she wanted another taste all the same.

He was in there awhile, then finally the door swung open and he walked out. Her eyes dropped. No more erection. His hair looked rumpled, sticking up like he’d thrust his hand in it repeatedly.

He hadn’t…had he? No. Why would he go and jerk off when she was lying naked and—despite her protests—more than willing in his bed? He climbed back in, wrapped an arm around her waist, hauled her against his front, and threw a heavy thigh over hers.

Then did…nothing.

“Um…Deacon?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we going to sleep now?” Despite what he’d done to her, repeatedly, for some reason asking the man if he’d just rubbed one off in the bathroom felt a bit too—intimate.

“Uh-huh.” He buried his face in her hair and inhaled, then mumbled against her shoulder. “And don’t move from this bed, Alex. I mean it. If I wake up and you’ve run off into the night, I’m coming to get you and dragging you back.”

“What if I need to pee?”

Hot breath skimmed her skin as he chuckled quietly. “Wise-ass.” He tightened his arm around her waist and rested his hand on her belly. “Go to sleep, little viper.”

She’d played up to the nickname she, Rusty, and Piper had been given in their teens, but she’d never liked what it implied, never liked it when people called her by it, but when Deacon said it, she kind of did.

“But aren’t you…are we…”

“Sleep.” His voice did that growly thing he was so good at, and she started to get all hot and bothered again. Damn him.

What was he doing? Was he trying to ease her into this whole arrangement they had going on, to be nice, sensitive to her feelings? What? Did he respect her? God, she didn’t want that—that wasn’t what this was about. She couldn’t handle him treating her like she mattered.

“Stop it,” he said into the silence.

“What?”

He gave her another squeeze. “Thinking. I can hear you from here.”

“Yeah? What am I thinking?”

He sighed. “You want to know why I haven’t fucked you yet.”

Okay. The guy was a damn mind reader as well as a control freak and a major pain in the ass. “Maybe. Um, so why haven’t you?”

Deacon nuzzled behind her ear, his tongue darting out to tease the skin there. “We don’t need to rush this thing. And anyway I like the buildup, the anticipation.”

Bullshit. But no way was she calling him on it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the truth. In fact, she knew she didn’t. The man who’d asked her to be his sex toy and occasional date several days ago was all about instant gratification. Deacon West didn’t take time to smell the roses. The journey was just another delay. Anticipation another obstacle in the way of reaching his final destination. He treated everything in his life like a business transaction, and, she’d found out recently, that included sex.