Page 20 of Broken Love (Love 2)
"Uh, okay. See you then, I guess. Is everything okay, Palmer?"
"Everything is perfect, Cade."
A few hours later, she shows up looking like a total smoke show, even though she's wearing a very demure shirtwaist dress with high heels like a sixties housewife.
She shuts the door behind my assistant, leans against it, and not-so discreetly locks it, giving me a tempestuous smile as she approaches my desk.
"What are you up to, Miss Montlake?"
"What makes you think I'm up to something, Mr. Crawford?" she purrs.
"Because you walked in here looking like a sex kitten, locked the door, and you don't seem to have brought any lunch."
She takes out the clip holding up her hair, shaking it as it falls over her shoulders.
I start to rise, in more ways than one.
"Don't get up. It's not time for lunch yet." She unbuttons her dress, slowly revealing slivers of skin and red lace.
When she lets the dress slide down to the floor and steps toward me, I stand and hold my hand out toward her.
Her long legs are encased in nude colored stockings held in place by a red garter with a matching thong. Her slim waist is highlighted by a red lace bustier, the cups see-through, allowing me a peek of her sensational breasts.
I feel myself harden as she leans across the desk. I mimic her move and am rewarded with a steamy kiss.
I push against the edge of the desk, willing it to disappear.
Palmer turns away from me, plops her fine ass on my desk, then spins around toward me, so that her legs are now spread eagle in front of me.
Eager with anticipation, I undo my belt and grasp my zipper. She stands, her high heels bringing us almost face to face, while she unzips my pants for me.
When they hit the floor, she drops to her knees in front of me, pushes off my boxer briefs, and wraps her hand around the base of my cock while tracing the tip with her tongue. My dick grows harder when she takes it fully into her mouth. She guides me in and out, pleasuring me until I'm ready to burst.
I pull back, causing her to look up at me through her long eyelashes.
"I want you to fuck me on your desk today, because it's something we've never done before. But just now I realized that we never even kissed in your office once, let alone sucked and fucked."
"If you keep doing that, I'm going to--"
"I know exactly what you'll do, Cade," she replies, getting up off her knees, slipping out of her panties and tossing them aside.
Then she hops her naked ass back onto my desk and spreads her legs, allowing me entry.
I don't need an engraved invitation.
I grab her thighs, pushing them further apart and drop to my knees, pulling her wetness to my lips. I circle her clit with my tongue then bury it inside of her. After giving her a good tongue fucking, I slide two fingers inside her while I suck her clit, quickly sending her over the edge.
She leans back and lets out a throaty moan.
I can't take it any longer. I'm going to blow my load just watching her orgasm. Her back is arched, her head tipped back, her mouth open and crying out my name. It's sexy as fuck.
I remove my fingers from her and replace them with my dick, slamming into her glistening wetness with ease. She tightens, giving my dick a gentle squeeze that nearly undoes me.
"Oh fuck, Cade. That feels so good. Your fingers are incredible, but nothing can top having your hard dick inside of me." She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me toward her, forcing me to stay motionless inside her. She kisses me, our tongues playing an exquisite game of tug-of-war. I move my lips to her neck, knowing she loves the way it tickles. She lets out a sweet giggle then wraps her long legs around me, allowing me deeper access into her warmth.
"You have a dirty mouth," I say, tugging at her lip.
"And you love it."
God, do I. This woman turns me on.
Usually I'd start slowly and pick up the pace, but I'm beyond that point. I grab her ass, plunging in and out of her until we're both gasping for air and begging each other for release.
My breath speeds up then I groan deeply, a guttural sound I can't control as I climax, falling limply on top of her.
She catches her breath then trails her lips slowly across my neck.
"That was the best lunch I've ever had," she whispers in my ear. "You know all those times we met in your office, this is all I could think about."
I pull her up to a sitting position and glide my knuckles across her bustier. "This lacy stuff is really pretty."
"Pretty or hot?"
"Fucking hot, Palmer. And so you know, just because I wouldn't do anything with you in my office, doesn't mean I haven't thought about it. In fact, doing you on my desk has always been my biggest fantasy."
I pull out of her and dispose of the condom.
"I didn't even know you slid that on. Thank goodness someone was thinking clearly," she says, picking up her dress.
I swipe it out of her hands and help put it on, buttoning each one of the tiny buttons. Then I pick her thong up off the floor.
"I'm keeping this here," I say, dropping it into my desk drawer.
"Like a trophy?"
"Exactly like a trophy. Just because--"
"Tell me about it. Your fantasy," she says, her eyes bright and wide.
I pick her up, carry her to my couch, and sit down with her in my lap.
"Do you remember when you stopped by my office late one night on the way to a party?"
"I do. It was my first celebrity party as an actress. I had just started filming my first movie."
"You looked like you'd been out in the sun that day, because the freckles sprinkled across your nose were darker. Your hair was in a messy side braid. You had that fresh-faced innocent look people fell in love with. I fell in love with."
"Do you remember what I was wearing?"
"Oh, yeah. Talk about a walking contradiction. You had on a pale pink dress. Even the color screamed sweetness. Except that it looked liked bandages were wrapped tightly around your body, and it was cut so low. And you had on silver stilettos. Freaking took my breath away."
"You asked me to stop by to sign a contract."
"And when you asked me for a pen, you looked straight at my crotch."
She giggles and runs her hand through my hair. "Silly, that's because you were standing, and the pen was on your desk--at crotch level."
"Yeah, bullshit. You were trying again to seduce me."
"Next time I come for lunch, I'm braiding my hair and wearing that dress."
"The next time you come at lunch, is going to be in a few minutes," I tease, sliding my hand back under her dress.
Pike
I'm in the clubhouse with the team. I've been thinking all day about what I could say that would motivate them. About what motivates me. The series is tied three to three, and tonight's game decides which team will win.
I wheel myself into the center of the room. I had a speech planned, but as I look down at my leg, I change my mind.
"I was asked to say something that would motivate you all. A rah-rah speech. But I ain't no fucking cheerleader. I've played on a whole lot of teams in my career, but this team has something special that our opponent doesn't have. We're a team. What that means is we're not about a few hotshots like they are. Every single guy on our team is a standout. Every single guy here is good at his job." I motion to the first baseman. "Will you help me unwrap the bandage from around my leg?"
"Uh, sure, Pike," he says, carefully unwinding it and exposing the cast-like splints on each side.
"I'd like each of you to sign this splint," I say, pointing to one of them.
The guys look confused, wondering what the heck is going on, but do as I ask and sign it.
"You're probably wondering why I had you do that. This is why. When we come back to this clubhouse after the game, I'm going to take these splints off and I'm going to hang them on the wall for L.A. to see. I want them to know that it didn't
matter that they took one of us out. It didn't matter, because every single player on this team is a standout. And guess what we're going to write on the other splint."
"World Series Champions!" the team yells in unison.
"You fucking got that right. Because when we come back here, to this very spot, that's exactly what we're going to be! Now get out there and kick some ass!"
Cade
It's the bottom of the ninth inning, bases loaded, one out. Tampa is leading the game four runs to two.
Los Angeles' batter takes a few practice swings then steps inside the box. The pitcher winds up and throws a fastball straight down the middle.
Strike one.
The catcher throws the ball back and flashes the signal. The pitcher throws, and the batter swings and connects--a grounder to the shortstop.
The shortstop throws it to the second baseman for the out. The second baseman then turns and quickly throws out the runner at first.
"Double play!" the announcer yells. "Tampa has won! Tampa has won! Tampa has won the World Series!"
Carter and I cheer like crazy. We watched the majority of the game from a sky box, but in anticipation of the end of the game, we moved closer to the field.
As we make our way onto it, the winning team gang tackles the men who made the double play. The players and coaches rush out to join them in celebration.
All except for Pike, who is sitting in the dugout, his head down.
"Aw, fuck," I say, knowing exactly how he feels.
The team rushes the mound, jumping on Pike and ending up in a pile on the dirt.
I can't run out with the team, so I just stand on one foot, clapping and cheering.
As I watch them celebrate, I'm overcome with emotion. We've all worked so hard for this. I can't believe we actually won and are College World Series Champions.
I put my head down for a moment and say a grateful prayer.
