Scream My Name (17 page)

He heard her groan when he rained biting kisses down her neck before retracing his slick path, sliding his mouth over to her small shell-shaped ear, and pulling the delicate lobe into his mouth.

“Ummm,” she moaned, her head falling to the side to give him better access.

“Your skin is so smooth, so perfect,” he murmured before taking her mouth again.

The kiss started out gentle, but when he felt her tongue, hesitant, soft, probe into his mouth, he groaned and deepened the kiss, and his once idle finger, still nestled deep within her pussy, stroked, curving inside her clenching walls.

When she ground her hips against his fingers, his palm, riding him, he released a moan he couldn’t hold back as he continued to work her body against his. As she made the sweetest, hottest sex sounds he’d ever heard, Hawk used one hand and pressed the rounded globes of her ass together and brought her into hotter, closer contact with his throbbing cock.

He stabbed his tongue in and out of her mouth, in rhythm with his finger within her pussy, while his thumb stroked her tight, hot clit.

She feverishly rode his fingers, grinding against him, rolling and thrusting her hips as the inner walls of her vagina clenched his plunging fingers with an intensity that had his balls tighten to the point of pain.

“Damn!”

Danita heard the expletive as though from a faraway distance, so caught up was she in the incredulous sensation of his talented fingers fucking her. When he withdrew his hand, she broke the kiss and cried out in distress.

“No—please,” she begged, her breath coming out in strangled gasps as she blindly reached down to prevent him from ending the pleasure, not giving a damn that she was begging.

“It’s okay,” he breathed against her.

He brought both of his hands to her waist, ripped her panties away, and dragged her closer to his thick erection, moving her in tight humps against his throbbing cock.

Danita shut her eyes tightly, grabbed onto his shoulders and gloriously gave in to the ride, bucking her hips, and reveling in the feel of riding him. When he fastened his mouth back on her breast, sucking like a babe on a tit, her body tightened, and she felt the orgasm unfurl low in her belly and ripple throughout her body.

She grasped his dark head as the orgasm took over. She yelled out as her release hit, and within moments she felt his body shudder against hers. He grasped her hips tighter, grinding her against the rough denim, and pulled heavily on her tender breasts as he fucked her in short tight thrusts.

Danita went up in flames as her pussy clenched, and her cum flowed heavily as the orgasm completely unfurled. He gave several more grinds against her before he shouted, released her breast, and ground harshly against her.

When the last shuddering contraction left her body, when her body recovered from the back-to-back releases, weak, yet feeling blissful, she allowed her head to rest on his chest, listening to the steady harsh thud of his heart.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and gathered her close. Danita’s heart beat strongly at his quiet words.

In the quiet, deserted diner, sitting in the lap of a stranger, Danita felt cherished for the first time in her life.

“H
i, Sinclair, is Warren available? I was supposed to meet him here for lunch,” Danita asked the polished woman sitting behind the glass and chrome desk.

The woman paused, and glanced away from the oversize monitor to Danita, standing in front of her. Her subtle once-over raked Danita from head to toe.

“Is he expecting you?” the woman asked. Despite the pleasantness of her tone, Danita picked up on the undercurrents of disdain running beneath it.

From the first moment she’d met Warren’s assistant, she’d noticed the woman’s chilly attitude toward her. At first she’d put it down to the woman just having a reserved personality, however, when she began to notice how warm she was with most others who entered the office, Danita suspected it was personal.

And when Warren had no knowledge of messages she’d left for him with his assistant, Danita’s suspicions had become fact.

When she’d mentioned it to Warren, he’d blown it off, telling her that Sinclair had been with him since he’d opened his practice, and he “seriously doubted” Sinclair would do something so unprofessional as to not give him his messages. The way he’d stated it, along with the expression on his face, made Danita feel as though she’d accused the woman of high treason, so she’d dropped the subject.

However, when it happened again, Danita confronted her, and called her out to her face. Later that day Warren had called her, all but pronouncing Danita a liar and petty for accusing his assistant of withholding his messages.

Irritated, Danita let it go, but had told Larissa about it, thoroughly pissed off. Larissa had, as any good girlfriend would, agreed with Danita, and then warned Danita to watch out for the “trifling bitch.” She thought the woman was just jealous that she was seeing Warren.

Danita had eventually shrugged it off when it hadn’t occurred again.

“Of course he does, Sinclair. Could you just ring him, and tell him I’m here, please?” she answered.

“No problem, Ms. Adams. I’ll let him know that you’re here. Please, have a seat.” The woman replied, her generous, collagen-injected plump lips lifting slightly to give Danita a tight smile.

Danita smiled in return, and resisted the urge to tug down the hem on her skirt that fanned right above her knees, noting the woman’s sharp-eyed gaze running over her, from the top of the neat chignon she’d so carefully crafted that morning, to the new suit she’d bought—one of many new suits picked out by Warren—to the tips of the knock-off Jimmy Choos.

Danita had bought the knock-offs from Sal, her hookup at the Johnson Flea Market on Del Rio Street. With the ridiculous amount of cash she’d shelled out for the suits she’d bought from the exclusive boutique, she definitely needed to watch her budget.

She tugged the hem on the suit, thinking maybe she shouldn’t have had it altered. But Lord have mercy, she thought, as much as she’d paid for it, it would have been nice to have it fit her better.

Danita had taken it to her favorite seamstress, Miss Mattie, and although she’d done her magic, making the waist fit to allow the skirt to fall just right over her butt and thighs, Mattie had taken liberties and shortened the hem, telling Danita God didn’t give her the legs she’d been blessed with to hide them under some “long-ass grandma skirt.”

Although Danita protested, she had been secretly glad Miss Mattie had shortened the hem, agreeing with the woman that below-the-knee skirts really weren’t for her.

Danita smiled and thanked Sinclair, turning to walk over to one of the white sectionals to sit down. Out of instinct, she brushed at her clothes before sitting down. But whenever she came to Warren’s office—or his condo for that matter—she always felt as though she should have plastic underneath her to prevent herself from soiling the furniture.

Kind of like how her grandmother would have all her furniture covered in plastic so “folks wouldn’t mess up her good sofa,” Danita thought and giggled.

She swallowed her laughter when Sinclair glanced over at her with one finely arched blond brow, raised in question.

Plastering a smile on her face she shook her head no, and Sinclair smiled slightly back at her.

“I’m sure Mr. Holt will be out shortly. He’s with someone important right now,” she said, making Danita feel about as significant as a dead flea.

Danita refrained from saying anything, not sure what would fly out of her mouth if she opened it. Instead, she threw a small smile the woman’s way in acknowledgement.

When Sinclair went back to her typing, Danita glanced at her watch. She had less than thirty minutes before she was supposed to meet Ms. Washington, one of her housebound clients, for their weekly session.

When her stomach growled again, she subtly placed her palms over her stomach to hide the rumbling sound.

God, she was hungry, and because she’d worked late the night before, and had to go to court on behalf of one of her young clients, she hadn’t had time to get any groceries and her fridge was pitifully bare.

When Larissa had suggested they go to Aunt Sadie’s for a latte and one of their mouth-watering blueberry turnovers, Danita had made an excuse about not having time, and had returned to the office.

She knew she couldn’t fool Larissa for long. It was only a matter of time before the astute opinionated woman caught on to the fact that she was avoiding the diner.

Or more accurately, avoiding the tall, exotic-looking, beautiful busboy who’d worked at the diner.

Danita closed her eyes and took a long deep breath and slowly released it. Memories assailed her of the sexual interlude—strike that—the crazy, out of this world, did this really happen to me, spine tingling, pussy
weeping
in memory it was so good, erotic adventure she’d had a week ago with the busboy at Aunt Sadie’s.

After she’d returned to normalcy, or a semblance thereof, she’d realized just what she’d allowed to happen. She felt guilt that she’d had a sexual encounter with someone she didn’t know, especially since she was currently in a relationship.

It didn’t really matter that the relationship was less than satisfactory, and there were times when she believed her lover was having an affair with his assistant.

Nor that more often than not, her lover had ignored her, put her to the side, or treated her as though she weren’t important, particularly when it came to his career and his desire to reach the top. At times she wondered just what he saw in her, why he even bothered to be with her.

But really, none of that mattered. She was the one who’d behaved dishonorably. She could only be responsible for herself. And although the busboy—Hawk—had made her feel better, not only sexually, but strangely, emotionally, what she’d done was wrong, and the guilt had eaten at her for days.

But…he’d made her feel more wanted and
needed
than Warren ever had.

She hadn’t felt like that in a long time. And honestly, if she had to be
real
about it, that, more than anything, that feeling he’d given her, that she was
special
, had scared the shit out of her to the point that she’d not returned to the diner.

She shut down her thoughts and her subconscious trying to understand the reasons she’d been avoiding the café and the busboy.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and glanced down at her watch.

With a sigh, Danita stood up and gathered her things in preparation for leaving when Warren stepped out of his office, along with a man Danita recognized as one of Warren’s wealthier clients, a rancher who owned massive amounts of land throughout San Antonio and Austin.

Even at the distance Danita was from them, she could smell the heady, rich, aromatic smell of the thick, expensive cigar clamped between the large man’s mouth.

“Warren, don’t know what I’d do without you, my good man!” he said, clapping a meaty hand between Warren’s shoulder blades.

“John, it’s my pleasure,” Warren replied as the two men walked into the room. “I’ll have those papers drawn up for you by tomorrow and sent by courier. As soon as the soon-to-be Mrs. Fender signs them, you’re all set.”

He turned to his assistant. “Sinclair, make sure you send Mr. Fender the necessary documents he needs for the Eastland takeover as well.”

As Warren turned back to the large man at his side, he seemed to finally notice Danita. His eyes ran over her, lighting on the shortened hem of her skirt, and his smile slipped, just enough that Danita caught it.

She ignored the instant response, her heart seeming to thump harder, unfortunately not in anticipation of spending time with him, but because she knew he’d have something to say about the alteration.

Danita straightened her back and walked toward Warren, a determined smile on her face.

“Hi, Warren, I was just about to leave. I need to get back to the office. Thought I’d stop by and say hi since I was in your neck of the woods,” she said, not wanting to give the impression that she’d been waiting for thirty minutes for him.

“I’m so sorry for keeping Warren from you, little lady. Time just got away from us!” the big man said in his booming voice with a raucous laugh.

“No problem, John, Danita and I didn’t have firm plans. She understands business comes first,” Warren assured the man, returning his handshake.

“Best get her used to that now, before you sign on the dotted line,” the big Texas ranger said, and the two men shared a mutual masculine laughter that instantly put Danita’s teeth on edge.

“John, I believe you’ve met Danita Adams?” Warren more stated then asked.

“Yes, we have met,” Danita answered, although Warren hadn’t directed his question at her.

“Yes, we have,” the rancher agreed, reaching up to remove the ornate Stetson from his head before engulfing her much smaller hand within both of his meaty ones. “Believe it was a few months ago at my engagement party, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. I also met your fiancé, Shania, I believe?” Danita answered with a smile, and instantly grimaced when she felt Warren’s fingers tighten where they rested on her shoulder.

“Sweetheart, Mr. Fender is no longer engaged to Ms. Clarke.”

“Oh, but I thought you were preparing his paperwork for his prenuptial agreement,” Danita answered, feeling her face heat with embarrassment at her unintended faux pas as she moved away from Warren’s touch.

“That’s okay, Ms. Adams. Hell, I get confused myself trying to keep up with my ladies!” The big man laughed with a lighthearted booming laugh, easing some of Danita’s embarrassment.

Smiling in relief that she hadn’t offended him, she glanced at Warren, and noticed that she hadn’t gotten off so easily with him. When she heard a soft cough, she whipped her head around and caught the amusement in Sinclair’s sky blue eyes, and clenched her teeth.

“I hope I see you this weekend, Ms. Adams. You can meet the new love of my life at the ranch,” the man said, and after bidding them farewell, left the office.

“Sinclair, I’m going out to lunch with Ms. Adams. I should be back in an hour,” Warren told his assistant and turned back to Danita, urging her toward the door.

“I’m sorry, Warren, but I’ve got to get back to the office. I have a client due to arrive in twenty minutes,” Danita interrupted, and gently pushed away from him.

“What do you mean, you have to go? We’re supposed to be going to lunch,” he replied, grasping her under the elbow and turning back to the waiting assistant. “Why don’t you go ahead to lunch, Sinclair. I should be back in no time,” he said, infusing more warmth in the tone than what he’d directed toward Danita.

“Warren—”

When he continued to try and drag her with him, Danita forced him to stop, becoming angrier with his refusal to listen, particularly with Sinclair’s avid attention on them.

“Warren, you’re not listening. I told you I can’t go to lunch now. I have a client I need to meet with,” Danita hated to do this in front of Sinclair, but Warren was, as usual, attempting to bulldoze her into going along with his agenda—and to hell with hers.

“Look, I’ve apologized for having you wait—”

“No, actually you didn’t,” Danita replied, at that point completely fed up with Warren and his tendency to not listen to her. “But that’s beside the point.”

“And the point is?” he asked, clearly irritated with her refusal to go with him. “Fender is one of my premier clients. Surely you don’t expect me to tell him my girlfriend is waiting to have lunch with me, and get rid of him?”

Danita hooked her thumb under the strap of her bag, hiking it up her shoulder. “No, I definitely know where your priorities lie, Warren. You’ve made that abundantly clear,” she returned. “The point
is
, just like you,
my
clients are important to me. So, we’ll just have to do lunch later this week. I’ve got to go,” she replied, and ignoring the indignant look and flush of anger washing over his face, she turned without a second look, and swiftly walked across the room and left.