Page 8 of House Rules
Oh. My. God.
Chapter Four
Sean
I have no idea what kind of game Kennedy is playing. I only know that she’s playing one and it involves me. When she appeared on stage at nine sharp—looking like she’d just been dipped in sin—two things became glaringly apparent. One, she’s not acting like the innocent I remember, and two, my sister is somehow involved in this setup. Which means sexy Kennedy Lane, who makes my balls fucking ache, is no longer off-limits.
I still don’t know why she’s pretending to be someone else, or why she thinks I don’t recognize her. I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually. But right now, as she walks ahead of me and my gaze slides down her back to settle on her lush ass, there is another bottom I’m more interested in exploring.
A savage, hungry growl rumbles in the depths of my throat as I take in her curves, the sway of her body as she goes back to the table to collect her jacket. She takes a sip of her wine, and when she brushes her tongue over her bottom lip again, my cock throbs and something dark stirs inside me. Jesus, I’m going to fucking destroy her.
I look her over as she turns back to me, my mind’s eye tracking the path my tongue will take. I’m going to eat every inch of her and leave her spent and bruised come morning. Her blue eyes widen, a hint of unease, but everything about her says she wants this—wants me.
Heat flares through me and my balls constrict as I slip my hand around her waist and guide her to the elevators. She keeps casting me quick glances, and it feels like an eternity as we wait for the doors to open. When they do, I usher her on, anxious to have her alone. An elderly couple slips in beside us. Too bad. I might have taken her right here against the back mirror.
“Lovely evening,” the gentleman says. I smooth my hand over my tie, an effort to present composure as arousal burns through me.
“Great night,” I say, and pull Kennedy against me to hide my erection. It jabs her waist, and her little intake of breath makes me smile.
If she were as bold as she’s pretending to be, no way would she gasp at my hard cock pressing against her. In fact, she might have rubbed against it, teased me a little, the way she was trying to tease me in the booth. Fuck, why does the idea of a good girl wanting to play bad turn me on even more? I have no idea, but what I do know is if she wants bad, she came to the right guy.
I place my hand on her stomach, and she quivers as I splay my fingers. Sure, there is a couple beside us, but as they stare at the number pad, counting the floors as they slip by, I let my hand glide downward, lightly brushing over her pelvis.
Her breathing changes, becomes erratic, and I like teasing her, like that innocent pink flush on her cheeks. I can feel her heat reach out to me and can practically smell her arousal. Sweet fucking spun sugar, like those damn candy hearts she used to devour when she was a kid.
Be Mine.
I still remember her giving me that one when she was sixteen—when she and Olivia were secretly playing their favorite game of Truth or Dare. I knew everything those two did. Just like I knew how upset she was when she couldn’t get tickets to see her favorite British band, Random Nation. Olivia and I were going—we’d saved all summer, and the only way our father would let me go was if I took my kid sister. But despite all the babysitting Kennedy did, she didn’t have enough money for the overinflated ticket price. Christ, I worked extra hours at the coffee shop that summer, saving every goddamn tip I made. In th
e end I had enough money, but the fucking concert was sold out by the time I tried to get her a ticket. Not that she knew any of that. The last thing I wanted to do was give her the wrong impression. Which was why when she handed me that stupid Be Mine candy, I tossed it into my mouth and laughed at her, treating her like she was a stupid kid. She ran away, embarrassed. But it was either that or follow through with every depraved activity I wanted to do with her.
But tonight…tonight I will be hers and she’ll be mine, and I plan to get my fucking fill of her once and for all. Tomorrow night she’ll help me out at the cocktail party, and on Sunday life will go back to normal. Hopefully that normal will include Cochrane as a new client.
The elevator stops on my floor, and I slide my arm around her back, resting it at the sweet swell of her ass, and guide her off. Her steps slow, and I pray to fuck she isn’t having second thoughts. Fifty hand-jobs won’t be enough to get me through the night if she changes her mind.
“Kitten?” I ask, pulling my key card from my pocket. “Everything okay?” I want her certain. I want to fuck the hell out of her, but I won’t lay my hand on her if she’s not game.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice stroking my cock and flaring the need inside me.
“You good?”
“No one can know about this,” she begins. “I’m not supposed to sleep with the customers.”
Since I’m not really her customer—because she’s not really a dancer at Carleton House—I’m not sure why she doesn’t want anyone to know about us, or what else she is hiding, but I’ll play along for now. “My lips are sealed.”
“This is just a one-time thing,” she adds.
“One time,” I agree, and I flash the key card over the lock. The light turns green, and I push open the door and wave my hand for her to enter.
“Nice place,” she says as she glances around my penthouse suite.
“Nice indeed,” I say, my voice deeper than moments before as my gaze slides to her lush ass—one I definitely plan to spank. She spins, and when she faces me, I capture both her hands, slip them around her back, and hold them there with one of mine. “Tell me what you were thinking about,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Her voice is wavering, and I like that she’s rattled, like that I can do that to her.
“When I was rubbing my cock, thinking about driving it into this pretty mouth of yours, what was going through your mind?”
Her head drops, her long hair shadowing her expression. “I––” she begins, then shuts her mouth. But I’ll have none of that. Tonight, we’re going to fuck and fuck hard, and I want to know every dirty thought she has, every little thing she wants done to her.
