I fucking loved her reactions, how honest they were. She wasn’t some rehearsed model who wanted my paycheck and my last name. Paige just wanted me.

Circling her clit with my tongue, I waited until she ground her hips against my mouth and then rewarded her with just the right pressure, the rhythm that started her keening, whimpering my name.

“So fucking perfect,” I groaned, soaking up every possible sensation of going down on Paige—her moans in my ear, her fingers in my hair, her taste bursting on my tongue. My cock was screaming, harder than it had ever been, but I’d never been more determined to keep it behind my zipper.

I licked, sucked, grazed my teeth across her, listening to her cries go higher, feeling her thighs tighten against my head, her breaths come quicker and quicker. It would be easy to get her off, a quick press of fingers just inside her, and she’d tumble right over. But I knew if I slipped my fingers inside her, my cock would be next, and that wasn’t what tonight was about.

When she was writhing, pleading for release, I locked eyes with her. Then I replaced my tongue with my thumb, pressing on her clit exactly how she needed and slid down. I gave in to my primal need to know every inch of her, and instead of using my fingers, I fucked her with my tongue, sliding in and out of her tight pussy until she came, screaming my name.

I closed my eyes and put a tight leash on my dick. I was a grown man for fuck’s sake, not a sixteen-year-old in the back of my dad’s car.

Paige wanted control, wanted to set every rule, run every deal, and keep everything neat and tidy. That wasn’t going to fly if she wanted me in her bed—in her life for the next three months.

I reared up over her and kissed her softly. “You are incredible, Paige. I could make you come for hours.”

She blinked up at me, her eyes emerald green. “That...you...I can’t…God, I can’t even think.”

“Good,” I said, lightly kissing her nose.

It fucking killed me, but I slid off the bed, and retrieved my jacket from the ground, sliding my arms through the sleeves.

“Wait, we’re not having sex?”

A smirk played at my lips. “Not tonight.”

“You don’t want…” her eyes dropped to the covers, and I immediately sat at the edge of the bed and pulled her into my lap.

I waited until she looked up at me, her cheeks still flushed from her orgasm. Then I kissed her, long and deep, knowing she could taste herself on my tongue. I didn’t stop until she was as pliant as my dick was hard. Fuck, this woman tested me on every level possible.

“I want you,” I assured her. “I would love nothing more than to strip out of these clothes and slide into you. Just thinking about it has my dick pulsing, Paige. I’ve never been this turned on just by getting a woman off, and I’ve never craved someone the way I do you. But this is interview round one, remember?”

I kissed her forehead and gently put her back on the bed. Then I stood and put as much distance between us as possible before I changed my damn mind. She was too tempting for her own good.

“When do we start round two?”

I smiled despite the epic case of blue balls that was currently threatening to unman me for the rest of my life. “Why don’t you sleep on it, really make sure this is what you want.”

“This is what I want!” she nodded enthusiastically. “And I can see that you want it, too.”

I waited to speak until her eyes traveled back up my body.

“Well, I say that you need to wait. I’m not going to be a regret for you, Paige. I know you love control. You wouldn’t be the business woman you are without it. But if you want me, then this is on my terms, not yours.”

Her mouth dropped open, and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. It was going to be so much fun to rile her up over the next few months. I took a moment and let my eyes rake over her body from head to toe, savoring the delayed gratification because now that I knew how she tasted, how she sounded when she came, I knew we’d be explosive and worth the wait.

“Night, Red.”

Her mouth was still open when I walked out of the hotel room.

I punched the button for the ballroom and thought about the least sexy things I could while the elevator made its descent. By the time the doors opened, my situation was far less dire and way less noticeable, but something told me I’d be sporting a semi until I had Paige again.

“There you are. Jesus, I’ve been looking for you all night,” Mike, my agent, said, clapping me on the back and using his public smile as led me into a deserted hallway.

“I’ve been busy,” I said.

He glanced at my undone tie and snorted. “Apparently. Anything I need to worry about?”

“Quite the opposite,” I promised.

“Good, because I’m getting calls from the Sharks front office, and you are not on their bright and shiny list right now. You need to keep your nose clean and smelling like roses if you want any chance at renewing this contract.”

“I always smell like roses,” I said with a shrug.

“You smell like sex.”

“Guilty.” Amazing, glorious sex.

“For fuck’s sake.”

“Exactly,” I laughed.

“Rory, I’m not fucking kidding. They’ve got your name on the chopping block, and they’ve made calls to Chicago to see if Armstrong would be up for a trade.”

My stomach twisted. “Shit.”

“Exactly,” he repeated, mocking my earlier word. “Now take your ass home and figure out how the hell you’re going to become the poster boy for Seattle Shark hockey before you lose your damned jersey.”

I nodded, the severity of the situation hitting me like a sucker punch. I didn’t say goodbye to any of the guys or acknowledge any of the women as I left the party.

Before, Paige’s suggestion had seemed appealing for the sake of getting her in bed, and the off chance that I might be able to convince her I was worth more than three months.

Now it looked like I was going to have to agree not just because I wanted her, but like she’d said—because I now needed her.

I’d never needed a woman, and I didn’t intend to start now.

But I might not have a choice.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

Paige