The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (27 page)

A small smile forms on his lips as his eyes remain closed. “No, just you.”

I feel my heart swell.
Hmm, I like that.
“Were there a lot of girls before me?” I speak without thought and clamp my eyes shut, bracing myself for his answer. The same image runs through my mind of the hundreds of girls in his office and I pray for a low number. A really low number.

“Dylan, do you really want to go there? Can’t you just ask me what my favorite movie is or some shit?”

I slowly open my eyes and see him staring at me, green eyes blazing.
Jesus, is it that big of a number that he doesn’t want to tell me? I think I have the right to know.
“You know my number; it’s only fair. Just tell me if it’s in the triple digits or not.” My hands rest on his abdomen and I get a shocked expression.

“Jesus Christ. Triple digits?” He scrubs down his face with both hands. “I don’t know, close to twenty probably. Does it really fucking matter?” His hands return to my thighs and I glare at him.

“Yes, it really fucking matters, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.” Sliding off his body, I kneel next to him on the bed and grab a pillow to cover myself with. He quickly takes it away. “Give me that.”

“No. It’s my birthday and I want to look at you.” He tucks the pillow behind his head. “Now, tell me why it matters?” I shake my head and get off the bed, walking toward the doorway. “Where are you going?”

“To get some cake. It’s not like I can leave or anything. You destroyed my dress and I don’t have a car,” I call out behind me as I walk down the hallway. My mind is racing.
Close to twenty? I’ve been with one guy besides him. One.
I walk around the couch and pick up his dress shirt, slipping it on and letting it hang open since all the buttons had been ripped off. I bring the collar around my face and inhale deeply.
Oh, man. Please let me keep this.
I slice two pieces of cake and place them on plates, grabbing some forks and heading back down the hallway. Reese is now sitting up, his back against the headboard and the covers pulled up around his waist

“Wow.” I stop at the end of the bed and stare at him after he speaks, his eyes fixated on my attire. “You look beautiful in my shirt. Keep it.”

I smile and climb up on the bed, handing him his plate. “Here, happy birthday, handsome.” I lean in and give him a quick kiss with his cake, lingering for a few seconds as he moans against my lips.

He smiles at me and takes it, grabbing a huge bite with his fork. “Mmmm, this is really good.” Watching his perfect mouth work the bite, I see his Adam’s apple move as it slides down his throat. “You can make this for me every year.”

My fork hovers in the air as I’m about to take a bite myself. His eyes fix on mine and I quickly look down and pull the bite in.
Every year?
I moan softly around my bite and relish in the delicious banana flavor. This cake is too easy to taste this good. I watch in amusement as he devours his cake quickly, leaning over and placing his empty plate on the nightstand. The muffled sound of a ringtone rings through the bedroom.

“Shit,” he says as he hangs over the side of the bed and pulls his phone out of his pants. He shakes his head quickly before he answers it, exhaling and leaning back against the headboard.

“Hi, Mom. Thanks. Yeah, I’m good, how are you? How’s Dad?”

Now usually, I would just sit back and enjoy my dessert and not think of anything devious to do in this situation. However, the memory of Reese stealing my cell phone and giving my mother unwarranted information creeps into my mind, along with a brilliant idea. I sit up and lean across him, feeling his eyes on me as I place my plate on the nightstand next to his.

“Oh, yeah? That sounds like him. When’s he trading it in?” Grabbing the sheets with both hands, I yank them down and quickly crawl between his legs, my mouth enveloping his partially erect cock and feeling it come to life immediately. “Shit. Uh, nothing.” I smile around him and grip the base, holding him tightly as I lick up his length. His thighs clench and his free hand fists the sheets. “Mom, can I call you back?” I pull him into my mouth and slide up and down his length, hearing small throaty grunts from above me. “No, I’m just in the middle of something.
Oh, fuck
.” My hand glides along the wetness and meets my mouth. He pulses against me as I suck him hard, then harder. “I’ll call you back.” The phone is chucked off the bed quickly and his hands grip my hair.

“God, yes. Just like that.”

I groan against him, my free hand reaching under and holding his sac. “Tell me how good it feels,” I say as I lick the tip. My hand pumps him, long even strokes as I glance up at his expression. Eyes dark and powerful, brow creased and jaw clenched.

“So fucking good. Your mouth is incredible.” He jerks and I slip him back into my mouth. His hands grip my head, pulling me up and down at the rhythm he wants, and I let him. It is his birthday after all. His hips thrust up and he fucks my mouth as I tame my gag reflex. He’s so deep in me, hitting the back of my throat and making my eyes water. His soft praises keeps me going even though my jaw is beginning to ache. “Dylan, so good, oh, God, I love your mouth.”
I feel a pulse and know he’s close. Increasing the pressure, I suck as hard as I can and cup his balls, feeling them tighten in my hand. He groans loudly and twitches. I squeeze every last drop out of him and swallow, savoring his taste. My eyes flick up as I lick him and see him watching me, always watching me. I’ve missed the look on his face at his release, but the look he’s giving me right now makes up for that loss. He’s in complete wonderment. He brings his hands up and runs both through his hair.

“Damn, that was unreal. Come up here.”

I wipe my lips with the back of my hand and move up his body until I am straddling his waist. “Do you like it when I do that?” My hands rest on his arms and I squeeze them gently.

His laugh warms my face. “Are you kidding? Did I not just come in this pretty little mouth?” His finger runs along my bottom lip and I kiss it lightly. “Do you like doing it?”

I nod quickly and we both laugh. “I love it. I used to hate it, but with you, I love it.” He smiles sweetly and runs his hands down my arms. “Have you always liked eating pussy?”

My question causes him to stumble back a bit and he shakes his head at me, giving me a strange look. “Uh, I’ll always like eating
your
pussy. Let’s leave it at that.” He narrows his eyes at me, seeing my unsatisfied expression. “Dylan, really?”

“What? I’m just curious. Why do you like mine so much?” I glance up at him from under my lashes and see his eyes trail down to the topic of discussion. “Don’t all women taste the same?”

He licks his lips and smiles, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my grin. I have no idea why I’m so curious about this, but I am. His eyes meet mine and he shakes his head. He trails his finger down my stomach and dips into me. “Yours is the sweetest pussy and the only one I want. I’m a bit obsessed with it.” I moan softly as he moves around before slipping out of me.

“Good,” I state as he pops his finger into his mouth and smiles around it.
Good Lord, that’s hot.
He engulfs my face in his hands and moves in slowly, planting the sweetest, most gentle kiss he’s ever given me. Pulling back ever so slightly, we study each other. There are no words, just the sound of our breathing as my eyes examine every inch of his face. He looks completely relaxed right now. No furrowed brow, no tension in his jaw. Just slightly parted lips and soft green eyes. My finger runs down the prominent slit in his bottom lip to his chin, feeling soft stubble along his jaw. I sigh. The sight of Reese with a five o’clock shadow would surely cripple me. Trailing his fingers along my skin, he brushes over my eyebrows, down my temples and across my cheekbones.

“What are you thinking right now?” he whispers and I lean in, pressing our foreheads together and closing my eyes.
God, what wasn’t I thinking?
That I love being with him like this in his bed, that I am so wrapped up in him, and at certain moments, I think it might break me. That I’m scared, terrified, of my feelings for him and his possible lack of feelings for me in the same way. I need to give him an answer so I do.

I open my eyes and connect with his. “That I’m scared I’m going to fuck this up,” I reply, so soft, so low that I think maybe he misses it, until his eyes widen. I swallow and continue. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. I mean, I’ve never done this before.” His hand brushes my hair back. “You make this look so easy, and I just… I feel like I’m struggling.” My voice breaks at the end. I sound weak. Pathetic even. His silence eats away at me so I shift down a bit to lay my head against his chest in my favorite spot, nuzzling his neck. I need his scent right now. I am anything but relaxed after that admission and I know it will soothe me.

“I think you’re amazing,” he pronounces into my hair, his hands wrapping around my waist and holding my body against his.
Amazing? At this? Really?
I exhale slowly and feel all the tension leave my body. That is all I needed to hear. If he thinks I’m amazing at this, then I must be doing something right. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on his breathing and let his smell wash over me. His hands dip under his dress shirt and stroke my back lovingly, just like he did last week on his couch after our long talk. And once again, there is silence between us. But this kind of silence, the kind where no words are welcome because just being together, holding each other, is better than anything that could possibly be said. This kind of silence is perfect. And then I pass out from my favorite form of intoxication. Reese Carroll.

I’ve always slept soundly in my bed, wrapped up in my nine hundred thread count sheets and down comforter. My feather top mattress gives the illusion of sleeping on a cloud and once I lay down on it, I’m out for the count. Dead to the world. I can usually sleep through anything except my daily five a.m. alarm. I once slept through the commotion of two fire engines and several ambulances when a building across the street caught on fire. I had no idea. When I eventually woke up mid-morning on that Saturday, I was shocked at how loud the sirens were that I had slept through. So most mornings, even when I have to wake up at five a.m., I feel extremely well rested and ready for the day. A good night’s sleep is very important for your body to properly function and I usually achieved one nightly. But this morning, as I slowly shift my head from side to side, eyes still closed and the feel of something heavy on top of me, I feel like I’ve been sleeping for days. I’ve never felt this revitalized. Slowly fluttering my eyes open, I spot a wild mess of dark brown hair spread across my chest. Hot breath blows across my breast, tickling my nipple, and it takes me a minute to process what’s in front of me, or really, what’s on top of me. My eyes shoot open and I turn to the alarm on the table next to me. Seven twelve in the morning it flashes.
Seven twelve? Fuck!

“Reese. Get up.” I wiggle underneath him, but he’s not budging. He’s not even shifting his weight at all. He’s clinging to me like Saran Wrap, his head nuzzling between my breasts and our legs tangling together in the sheets. I almost don’t want to move because being under and wrapped up in him this way feels amazing. But it’s morning, and I fucking slept over. “REESE.” Gripping his shoulders and snapping back into my sanity, I push with everything I have and he grumbles, rolling over onto his back and slowly opening one eye. That one eye scans my body and he smiles.

“Morning, love.”
Whoa.
I’m momentarily stunned by his deep groggy bedroom voice. Low and throaty, it sends a chill through me. I glance down quickly, noting that I’m still wearing his dress shirt, which is completely open, and my garter and stockings. Darting his arm out, he pulls me close to his body and wraps around me again.

“You look wildly sexy right now, in my shirt and in my bed.” His hand runs down my stomach and brushes between my legs. I involuntarily moan, knowing full well that I do not have time for this. But my body belongs to this man and I can’t help how it reacts. “You’re so wet. Were you dreaming about me doing this?” One finger dips in, then two, and I throw my head back and arch my body off the bed.

“Oh, yes, right there.” My head falls to the side and my eyes meet the clock again as his fingers move in perfect rhythm. It’s after seven. The bakery opened at seven a.m. “Fuck. I’m so late.” I bat his hand away and try to sit up when he slams me back down, moving on top of me and pressing me into the mattress. “Reese, seriously, I don’t have time for this. Joey is probably freaking out right now.” He rolls his hips against my pelvis and I moan at the sensation.
Bakery? What bakery? Who the fuck is Joey?