Lead Player - Alex Grayson Page 0,27

get enough. That’s the problem. Even before our one night together was over, I knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as I wanted it to be. I felt something more, a deeper connection, and I still feel it. It scares the shit out of me.

His big hands wrap around my waist, and I’m hoisted up until I’m hovering over him, my legs on either side of his hips. My will power dwindling, I settle down until my ass meets his erection. He hisses out a breath and his fingers dig into my waist.

“Goddamn, woman, you drive me crazy,” he groans and leans forward to lick along my neck. I tilt my head to the side, giving him more of me to explore. “That first night, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, and I knew I had to have my hands on you before the evening was over.”

I’d felt it, too. That instant attraction. One so strong it was almost painful to think about not being near him, not being able to touch him. Instant lust in its purest form.

An annoying buzzing starts, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s the vibration from his phone on the coffee table.

“Ignore it,” he grunts.

Holding onto my ass, he grinds me down on him, forcing my back to arch, which puts his mouth in perfect reach of my breasts again. He licks, sucks, and nibbles on the pale flesh and it makes me go wild on top of him. My head falls back, and I close my eyes, releasing a deep moan.

“Oh God, Enzo. I’m going to come if you keep that up,” I whimper, looking down at where he’s still making love to my nipples with his mouth.

He releases one hard tip with a pop and peers up at me with ravenous eyes. “Not without me.”

The rational part of my brain screams at me to stop this before it goes too far, but Nova, the bitch, is glorifying in the pleasure she’s receiving.

I try to think straight, to see past the fog of lust, but my willpower to do so is too weak. This feels way too good to stop. Why do I even want to? I try to remember, but my brain is mush at the moment. Why not enjoy it while I can, and face the consequences later?

Before I can register what’s happening, my shirt and bra are off me and being thrown to the side.

We’re both reaching for the other’s zippers when his phone begins vibrating again. I glance over my shoulder at it and see the name Wynona Wicker on the screen.

“I’ll call her back later,” he says, popping the button to my pants.

I swivel my head back to him and arch a brow. “Her?”

He leans up and murmurs against my lips, “My lawyer.”

Oh. Right. He did say he was waiting on his lawyer to call him back.

Feeling like a fool for the bout of jealousy at seeing her name on his phone, I begin attacking the fastening to his jeans. He groans when my fingers graze his denim-covered length.

Unfortunately, we’re interrupted again by his phone. It’s even more unfortunate when he stops shoving his hand into my pants.

“Fuck,” he hisses, dropping his forehead to my sternum. “She’s not going to stop calling until I answer.”

I want to throw a tantrum like a spoiled little five-year old when he grabs my hips, picks me up, and deposits me on the cushion beside him. Instead, I sit there stiffly, my body pulsing from its unfulfilled release.

The phone stops vibrating, but almost immediately starts back up again. Enzo leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs with his head in his hands. His back works up and down as he takes several audible breaths. Just before it goes to voicemail again, he snatches up his phone.

“What?” he barks. Gritting his teeth, he rakes his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know I called you, but your return call has bad timing.” He pauses. “No, I need to see you before you leave. I don’t want to wait a week to get this taken care of.”

While he talks, I get up and grab my bra and shirt from the floor. He watches, and his jaw tics as I cover my breasts and slip on my shirt. I take a deep breath and turn away from him, because the temptation to go to him, tear away the phone, and ride him like a cowgirl is almost too great.

Stupid, stupid,