Sweet Possession Read online

  I smile, loving that dominant edge in every word he types.

  Me: Always is.

  No imagination needed there.

  After listening to Joey rant about all the possible ways Brooke could screw my business over, six o’clock finally came and I was able to wave goodbye to him and his negativity. Reese and I split our time between my place and his, usually only staying at mine if I have to wake up early to get started on some baking. Reese has affirmed his desire to move me into his condo permanently after the wedding, but I’ve been dragging my feet on preparing for that. I like having my loft above the bakery. It was the first place I ever owned all by myself, containing many Joey and Juls memories I don’t want to let go of. But I understand his reasoning; it wouldn’t make sense to make payments on both places. So, even though it saddens me, I’ll be saying goodbye to my loft in ten days.

  I park Sam, my delivery van, in my usual spot next to Reese’s vehicle in his parking garage. The contrast between my cupcake-covered van and his pristine Range Rover still makes me giggle, especially when Reese expresses his concern over my choice of transportation. But I let all that Sam-hate roll off my back; he’s reliable and very hip, in my opinion.

  I step off the elevators onto the tenth floor and stop at Reese’s door, fumbling with my keys. Once I’m inside, I lock the door behind me and toss my purse and keys onto the table. I glance around at the immaculate space, noting my fiancé has been very busy cleaning today. Everything is in order and the entire place smells like something Italian. I’m starving, but not just for food, and the meal waiting for me on the stovetop will have to wait.

  “Reese?”

  I walk down the hallway, stopping at the bathroom door when I hear the shower running. Swinging the door open, I’m hit in the face with a cloud of citrus and have to grip the doorframe to steady myself. Good Lord, he’s delicious. His smell alone riles me up like nothing else. The curtain is pulled back and our eyes lock, his mouth curling up in the corner as he breaks our contact and slowly rakes over my body. His lip twitches into a smile.

  “Liar. I was expecting a dress with no panties.”

  I lean against the doorframe, admiring my amazing view of the gorgeous man in front of me. “If I said I was wearing this—” I sweep my hand in front of my body, “—would you have appreciated it as much?”

  “I appreciate you in everything you wear.” His tone is low and thick, and it still has the same effect on me as the first time I heard him speak. Like he could command me to do anything. It’s not just his body that leaves me pooling at his feet. That voice of his is my undoing. He shoots me a smile, opening the curtain farther. “Get your sweet ass in here.”

  I strip hastily, swiftly stepping into the shower with him. Inhaling deeply, I wrap my arms around his neck and relish in the glorious sight and smell of him. His arms scoop me up and pull me against him, his forehead dropping to mine. I close my eyes and let the water cascade off his body, running down my front that is pressed to his. His warm, minty breath heats my face as his hands lightly stroke my back, slowly trailing lower and lower. I open my eyes and meet his, the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen burning into mine with that same intensity. His intensity.

  “You know, it’s literally impossible to not want to fuck you every time I see you naked. Or clothed, for that matter.” He cocks an eyebrow at me, and I run my tongue along my bottom lip. “You have me perpetually wound-up here.”

  “I know the feeling.” I tilt my head up and press my lips to his jaw, slowly trailing kisses down his neck and onto his chest. He moans softly, his body vibrating the tiniest bit against my mouth as I work my way lower. His stomach tenses, the way it always does as my lips brush against his taut skin. I’m almost to my destination when his hands grip under my arms tightly, lifting me up and pressing my back firmly against the cold tiles.

  “Oh! Hey, I wasn’t finished.” My legs wrap around his waist, his hands firmly gripping my hips the way I like. His chest heaves rapidly, pushing up against mine with his quick, forceful breaths. I feel him there, right there, and the anticipation is killing me. “Come on, do it,” my raspy voice taunts him, daring him to give me what I know we both want.

  “Do what, love?” His lips meet mine and his kisses are gentle, the sweet kisses he gives me when he wants to take his time. I fucking love this kind of Reese-kissing and he knows it, but in all honesty, I’ll take his mouth any way I can get it. I open for him, allowing his tongue to stroke softly against mine. He delivers the perfect amount of pressure and I moan into him, firmly tangling my hands in his wild mess of hair. He moves down, tilting my head up for access. “I love you,” he whispers against my neck.

  Those words send me into hyper drive like they always do, ever since he first said them to me the day of Juls’ wedding; a day I started off dreading and now am immensely grateful for. I’m panting, clawing down his back and I know what he needs to hear to get him where I want him. “Please, I need you. Please, Reese.” I beg him because he likes it and because it’s true. I do need him; I’ll always need him. How I ever managed to convince myself otherwise is beyond me. I was a complete fool for ever denying my feelings for him. He’s always been it for me, ever since I fell into his lap.

  He tilts his head up and locks eyes with me, slowly easing forward as his breath comes out in a quick burst. “Christ, Dylan.” He begins to move, sliding in and out of me easily due to my fully-aroused state. I’m certain I’m permanently wet around him and am totally fine with that; he owns my body. “Jesus. So fucking good. Every damn time.”

  “Oh, God, yes.” I grip onto his neck with one hand and his bicep with my other, squeezing tightly and feeling his muscles contract. His hips pound against my pelvis, pushing me farther and farther up the tiled wall. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to his power during sex, the way he moves in me and with me, commanding my body that willingly obeys without any hesitation. Groans and grunts echo around us as he moves fluidly inside me, hitting the end of my channel. “Reese.” His hands grip my hips harder and he becomes more forceful with his thrusts, my back slapping hard against the wall.

  “You’re almost there. Let go, love,” he says against my lips.

  He always knows when I’m close, and it never takes me long to get there. I’m extremely responsive to everything this man does, and he loves it. With one quick movement, he unhooks my legs and places me on the shower floor, dropping down to his knees in front of me. His mouth is on me instantly, sucking my clit as he grabs my thighs and hooks them both over his shoulders.

  “Come for me, Dylan.”

  “Shit. Oh, God, right there.” I come hard and fast, reaching down and gripping his hair with both hands. He’s so unbelievably good at this, and he knows it. Moving his head rapidly between my legs, he moans softly against my clit, lapping between my folds. I’m trembling against him like I always do, seeing his eyes flick up to mine as he gently places me down on my feet. My legs are wobbly, and it takes a lot of effort to remain upright. “Jesus. How do you keep getting better at that?” I rake through his hair as he gazes up at me, giving me the slightest shrug as his answer. “My turn,” I declare, seeing his eyes light up as he stretches out above me. I excitedly push him against the wall, practically bouncing on my post-orgasm feet as he watches me in amusement. “Hands or mouth?”

  He arches his brows at my question, his sweet smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Both.”

  I enthusiastically rub my hands together and lean in, pressing my lips against his mouth for a quick kiss, which turns into an intense make-out session the moment he grips my neck. His tongue tangles with mine, swallowing my tiny whimpers and sending a shock wave through my body.

  “See how good you taste? Like fucking candy.”

  I shudder against him like I always do when he talks to me that way. The man is an expert in dirty talking, dirty texting, and dirty love-letter writing. Yes, I’ve decided all his little notes to me during our casual bullshit phase were love letters. I
know, I was a fucking idiot to think they weren’t.

  I reach down and grip him in my hand, his body jerking at the contact as he drops his head against mine. My hand doesn’t slide as easily as I’d like and I get an idea, a very naughty idea. Stepping back, our eyes meet as I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and slip two fingers inside me. His penetrating green eyes broaden as I moan and swipe my wetness onto his cock, repeating the action until I’ve gotten him well lubricated.

  “Holy shit. That’s so fucking hot.”

  “I just thought I’d share what you do to me,” I reply playfully, stepping into him and stroking his length. “You make me so wet.” I lick his stubble and hear him moan softly. “Just by being in the same room with me.” My free hand grips his arm as his breath warms the side of my face. I’m sliding up and down, fast then faster, my grip tightening as his hands wrap around my waist. “No man has ever done that to me before.” He groans deeply against me, and I know it’s because of what I’m doing to him and what I’ve just confessed. He loves that he’s the only man who’s ever affected me; the only man who ever will.

  His bottom lip is pulled into his mouth, indicating he’s close. It’s his tell; that and when he rakes his hands through his hair, signifying he’s either anxious, nervous, or really fucking pissed. “I love how wet I make you. That pussy belongs to me.” His breathing hitches in my hair. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

  Dropping to my knees, I wrap my lips around him and stroke him with my hand, pumping him into my mouth. He grunts loudly above me, his thighs tensing and his hands holding my head, tangling in my hair. I swallow every ounce of him, moaning against his skin and feeling him twitch. His breathing steadies above me and I glance up, seeing a very-amused grin on his gorgeous face.

  “I love you,” I say softly, planting a quick kiss to his cock before I stand up. His arms wrap around me and I immediately shove my face into his neck, claiming my spot.

  “Me or my dick?”

  I giggle against him and feel his laugh shake my body. “Your dick.” He pulls me away from him, issuing me his don’t fucking push it, Dylan look, and I crack. “You and your dick. I’m mad for both of you. Can’t live without either one of you, actually.”

  Reaching up, I grab my shampoo and turn to see his hand held out for me, waiting for me to squirt it into his palm. I do it and grab his body wash, squirting it into my hand before I put it back on the shelf. I wash his body as he washes my hair, my hands roaming freely over his skin. I linger on his shoulders and upper back, giving him a rubdown as his eyes close. He loves this, me touching him this way, pulling and kneading his muscles until they loosen. His tiny moans of gratification make me smile as I move down his body and spread the lather around. He massages my scalp the way he always does, building up the suds with his hands until they begin to trickle down my face. I’m rinsed off quickly, and my body wash is grabbed.

  “Hey, use yours,” I demand, trying to snatch it from his grasp but remembering instantly just how quick he is, and how I don’t stand a chance in taking anything from him. We’ve been down that road.

  “No. I want you to smell like you.”

  I grumble unconvincingly, loving how he prefers the way I smell to anything else, even though I’d be much happier smelling like him. I watch as I’m thoroughly cleaned as only Reese Carroll would do. The man is meticulous about everything, concentrating on covering every inch of my skin in the soapy bubbles. He lingers on my breasts, kneading them for several minutes before he rinses them clean. His marks are on me, permanently branded onto my skin due to his daily freshening-up sessions. I moan softly as he latches onto the left one, pulling the skin into his mouth and planting a soft kiss to it after it’s darkened.

  “So, how bad was today?” he asks, licking the mark on my right breast before sucking on it.

  I grab his head and hold him against me. “Tolerable.” He narrows his eyes at me, not buying my elusiveness. I sigh, dropping my head down. “I mean, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t want to wait ten more days to make this official. You’d whisk me away to Vegas and make me yours right now.”

  He stands up, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Do you need my dick in your mouth again?” I nod quickly and he laughs. “If I could arrange it, I’d have the entire world witness you becoming mine.” He smirks. “Officially.”

  “Officially,” I echo, reaching behind me and shutting off the water. For all intents and purposes, we both know I’ve been his since that first wedding, but until his last name becomes mine, it won’t feel real to either one of us.

  After securing a towel around his waist and blocking my amazing view, he wraps a towel around me and follows behind me into his bedroom. I don’t bother getting dressed because he prefers me naked in bed; anything I put on my body right now would be ripped off and discarded.

  No barriers.

  Nothing getting in his way of me.

  That’s his thing.

  “You hungry?” he asks after stepping into a pair of boxers.

  “Aren’t I always after you ravage me?”

  He disappears down the hallway, returning moments later with two bowls. He hands me mine with a smile and I lean back against the headboard, lifting the bowl to my nose. “Mmm, this smells amazing. I might just keep you.”

  He laughs softly next to me before he begins inhaling his food. “So, there’s this last-minute account Ian and I are taking on that requires some traveling this weekend. And we were talking and thought it’d be cool if everyone came with us.”

  “Where are you going?”

  He stretches his legs out next to mine, my feet stopping at his calf. “New Orleans. We have to be there really early on Friday, so you’ll have to take a separate flight.” He pauses, exhaling roughly. “I need to talk to you about something.” I cock my head and see his jaw twitch slightly just before he rakes his hand through his hair.

  Uh oh.

  “This account, it’s a business Bryce is investing in. He hired us to show them how to make better use of their resources and increase profitability. The only reason why I agreed to do it is because…” he clenches his eyes tightly, swallowing loudly. His eyes refocus on mine after he takes in a calming breath. “It’s just important. I need this account, and I need you to understand that.”

  Bryce Roberts has been flying under the radar since Reese and I got engaged but before that, he made it very clear he was interested in me. The last time I saw him was when I delivered treats to Reese’s building for a business meeting. I had no idea they knew each other, but there that little shit sat, staring at me like I was one of the pastries I had made. They don’t work together and apparently, hardly ever have to deal with each other, which is a good thing. Reese isn’t shy when it comes to how he feels about guys hitting on me or making me feel uncomfortable, and Bryce did both.

  I see the pent-up irritation on his face that he’s failing miserably at hiding. Humor works best in situations like this. “Well, it sucks he’s still breathing. I was hoping he had gotten mauled by a bear.” My jokester smile fades when Reese remains in serious, concerned-fiancé mode. I dip my head, forcing his eyes that are burning a hole into the sheet to focus on mine. “I get it; it’s an important account. I told you before, I can handle assholes like Bryce.”

  In fact, I’d very much like to handle Bryce. I haven’t slapped anyone in months, and my hand is beginning to twitch.

  He aggressively stabs his noodles, taking out his anger on the delicious dinner he’s made us. “And I told you before, if he makes you uncomfortable in any way, I’ll break his fucking neck. That doesn’t just include him coming into your shop. If he so much as looks at you in a way you don’t like…”

  I place my hand on his arm, halting his threat. “Relax. He won’t.” Unless he’s dumber than I think, which is entirely possible. I swallow my mouthful and twirl some noodles onto my fork. Time to get the subject off Bryce before my fiancé has a coronary. “I’ve never been to New Orleans. I’m kinda excited.
” I shove my forkful into my mouth and bob my head to the side, chewing animatedly. Reese laughs softly next to me, finally relaxing. “So, what do I need to do?”

  He sits his empty bowl on his nightstand, sliding down in the bed and settling on his side facing me. “Just book your flight. I already rented the house for all of us to stay.”

  I arch my brow at him. “And what if I would’ve said no?”

  He pinches my side and I yelp, prompting him to pull me closer so our bodies are touching. Constant contact. “I knew you’d say yes. You don’t have a wedding to bake for this weekend, so you’re all mine.”

  I smile wide. “Look at you knowing my schedule. Oooo! We can do our bachelor and bachelorette parties this weekend! In the Big Easy!” I kick the covers off and scramble out of bed, setting my half-eaten bowl of spaghetti on my nightstand.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To call Joey! He’s going to freak out!”

  I hear his faint laugh as I grab my phone from my clutch and dial Joey’s number. Returning to the bedroom, Joey answers as Reese pulls me back into bed.

  “If you’re calling to tell me Reese’s mother is in charge of making my penis cake, I’m hanging up.”

  I giggle and settle back down on my side, staring at a very sleepy-looking Reese. He’s been working long hours lately, plus some weekends, leaving him exhausted most nights by the time I get to him. Especially if he decides I need a good dicking as soon as he sees me, which is what usually happens. He lets his eyes fall closed, keeping his one arm wrapped around my waist.

  “What would you say to a weekend in New Orleans with your two best friends and our men?”

  “I’d say count me the fuck in. When?”

  “This weekend. It’s perfect. We don’t have any weddings to bake for, and Reese and Ian have to go anyway. Plus—” I pause for dramatic effect, prompting Joey to give me an impatient grunt, “—we can go all-out for my bachelorette party, Mardi Gras-style.”