My (Mostly) Secret Baby - Penelope Bloom Page 0,4

I’d have known sleeping with someone to win an argument was off the charts of stupidity.

But… I wasn’t less stubborn. In fact, I was the kind of stubborn that had resulted in more than a few emergency room trips, like the time I put my tongue on the frozen basketball pole to prove it wouldn’t stick—it did. Or the time I just had to prove the lake wasn’t too thin to ice skate on—it was. Or even the time I claimed I could handle a raw ghost pepper—I couldn’t.

So I reached out and gripped his tie, tugging him a little closer. “Think you’ll win this, Mr. Suit?”

His lips curled up at the corners. “I know I will. Just like everyone who winds up across from you on the court probably does.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I know you’re going to let me kiss you.”

I clenched my teeth. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but when he dipped his chin toward me, and I caught a hint of his manly musk—a scent somewhere between money and fresh cut wood, the words died on my lips.

God. Why was I so stubborn? Couldn’t I maybe stubbornly decide to prove I wasn’t stubborn, for once? Except all my thoughts felt powerless. I was swept up in him, and deep down, I knew there was no breaking free of this. He was the riptide, and the harder you fought the riptide, the more it had you. The only way out was to relax. Surrender to it and ride out the current until it finally tired of you and let you swim back to shore.

I’d lost the moment I walked into this, but I still wasn’t ready to accept that.

I tilted my chin up and let his lips crash down on mine. I wondered if he felt the same rush of white-hot excitement I did in that moment. It wasn’t an ordinary kiss. It wasn’t two people seeking affection. There was no hunger for approval.

It was a battle, and our lips were the soldiers, battering themselves against each other. Our tongues clashed, slashing against each other in a hot, swirling form of combat that made my body zing with energy.

I tugged at his suit, hoping to tear something while he yanked at my skirt.

When it didn’t budge downward, he pushed it up in impatience, hiking up one of my legs and pressing me to the door so he could grind himself against me. His lips brushed my neck and I felt him smile his devil’s smile. “Tell me to stop. I dare you.”

“You’re a baby puncher. And I’m not going to give you what you want.”

“No?” His hand cupped me between my legs, making me gasp. “You’re already soaked for me.”

“That was for someone else.”

For a second, I thought he was actually going to laugh, but instead he took me by the shoulder and turned me, pressing my cheek to the wall and forcing my ass against his crotch. “Doesn’t matter who you think any of this was for. I’m taking it.”

A chill spiked across my spine. Okay. Grumpy? Yes. Arrogant? Definitely. Kid kicker? Probably. But his growly possessiveness was a turn on. I had to give him that.

I licked my lips. “I’m only letting you do this to see your face when you can’t make me cum.” The truth was I’d never had a real orgasm with a man before. Some happy little butterflies here and there and a few things in between, but never a true orgasm. They’d left me wanting and unfulfilled, and it was half the reason I knew I was going to enjoy this. Watching Mr. Suit struggle to please me was at least going to feel like a victory.

“I’m not just going to make you cum all over my cock. I’m going to make you wait to do it until you have permission.”

I laughed, except the sound didn’t have quite the authenticity I was going for. His hands were on my hips and my body was pinned by him. I could talk all I wanted, but I knew I was in his control. His power.

I heard the jingle of his belt and felt the shifting of his pants behind me. I closed my eyes, waiting. I had just enough time to take a look in my mental mirror and ask what the hell I thought I was doing. But everything about today was already a shitshow, starting with showing up to this meeting uninvited. It almost