Total D*ck(43)
I squirmed against him, but his leg against my pussy only made my mind grow fuzzier.
“Kennedy.” I moaned as he licked back up my neck, his fingers still at play on my breast.
He moved his other leg between mine, the head of his cock sliding against the wet fabric of my panties.
“So fucking wet.” He eased his hand down my body, sending goose bumps radiating out along my flesh, until he got to my pussy. Pushing my panties aside, he teased my clit as I writhed and moaned beneath him.
“Y-you said you wouldn’t touch me, remember?” I had to throw something out there. “It was like a contract.”
“It wasn’t a contract, only an offer. One that was rejected the moment I woke up to you biting my lip.” He swirled his fingers lower and pushed them inside me.
“Mmmm. Are you saying I made a counteroffer?”
“Yes. One that I’ve accepted via performance.”
I gasped when he thumbed my clit. “So, you paid attention in law school after all.”
He grinned and squeezed my wrists. “Let’s not get too carried away.”
I leaned up and kissed him, licking across his lips. He followed me back down to the pillow, slanting his mouth over mine and continuing to stroke me as I rocked my hips against his hand.
A knock on the door sounded like a series of three gunshots. “Ms. Carmichael, it’s almost eleven thirty. You said you wanted to leave right around now.”
His words brought reality crashing back down. We were in danger, and I needed to speak to Guy about all of it.
“Fuck.” Kennedy sighed. “We’ll be right out.”
“All right.” Shorty’s steps faded down the hallway.
“You backing out on the contract we just made?” He kissed my neck, his fingers still working my clit.
I wanted to keep going, but we had responsibilities. “Yes.”
He released my wrists and dropped a kiss on my lips. “But you’ve only partially performed. You’ll be in breach.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You want me to promise future performance?”
“That’s the only way to avoid a breach and thousands—” He rolled off me, scanned down my body and then back to my eyes. “—more like millions in damages I’m sustaining for not getting inside you right now.”
I giggled. Like an idiot. “I don’t know if I can promise future performance when you act like such a dick all the time.”
He put a hand over his heart, as if I’d wounded him there. “Me? Acting like a dick. Never.” Then he licked his fingers—the two he’d had inside me.
A thrill went through me as he kept his gaze on mine. “You are a filthy man, Mr. Granade.”
“And you are a delicious woman, Ms. Carmichael. So, do you promise future performance or would you prefer to be in breach?”
“I’ve never broken a contract in my life, so I’m not starting now. But the terms of my future performance are entirely up to me.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“The terms have always been up to you, Scarlett.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Didn’t you know that?”
Chapter Twelve
Kennedy
“Guy lives on Audubon Place, really?”
“He comes from money. His wife comes from money. He makes tons of money at the firm. What did you expect?” Scarlett shrugged, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders.
“Something nice, but not Audubon Place nice.” I maneuvered through the city streets, crowds of people clogging the street corners and beads crunching under my tires.
The parades were in full swing the Sunday before Mardi Gras. I avoided the parade route and skirted along the edge of City Park.
“So, tell me about you. You’re from here, right? The Carmichaels?”
“Yes,” she answered curtly.
Of course, that told me it was time to push her. “You have a good relationship with your parents?”
She huffed out her nose and pinched her lips together. “My father’s dead. My mother and I are on good terms.”
I narrowly avoided running over a staggering drunk wearing an enormous hat shaped like a MoonPie.
“Jeez.” Scarlett gripped the dash as I swerved back into our lane. “The tourists get worse every year.”
“Spoken like a true native.”
“All my life.” Her tone was resolute.
“So, you have any hobbies? Stuff you like to do?”
She tapped her nails on her thigh. “I work. I go home. I work some more. I love my job. That’s it.”
I tried a different tack. “What’s your favorite movie?”
“It’s hard to pick one.” Her evasive answers were starting to chafe. Why didn’t she want to tell me anything about herself?