Fix this? What?

Reeve’s hand slides up to the top of my head, and the next thing I know, he’s pushing me down. I brace against him, just for a moment, but then he barks, “Fix it,” and my knees immediately buckle, so I sink down to the carpeting.

When my face is in front of his straining, cloth-covered erection, his hand goes back to grasping my hair again. He gives me another gentle shake and repeats in a much quieter but no less threatening tone, “Fix it, Leary.”

God, I want to fix it. I want to take him in my mouth, suck him hard until he’s begging me to stop. But I’m also enjoying this display of alpha power he’s unleashing. I want to see how far I can push him.

I don’t move. Just stare up at him as he glares down at me.

“Fuck this shit,” Reeve snarls as he releases my hair and his hands work his belt in a frenzy. He unbuckles it quickly, slamming his zipper down and pulling his cock out of his pants.

It’s beautiful. Thick and hard . . . an angry blush to it and a drizzle of pre-cum leaking from the tip. I lick my lower lip in anticipation, but Reeve doesn’t notice. Instead, he gives a few pumps of his hand over his dick before grabbing my jaw. Pressing his fingers in firmly at the joints, he forces my mouth open, which doesn’t take much effort, because I really, really want him in my mouth.

“Take it, Leary,” he orders while he guides the tip toward me with his other hand.

I try to turn my head away, a vain attempt to show resistance, because I’m not going to fight him much longer. I want to blow him too badly.

Reeve’s hand holds my jaw tighter, forcing my mouth wide-open. “Suck it,” he hisses at me and sticks the tip in my mouth.

He’s staring in fascination at his huge dick in my mouth but then slowly moves his eyes toward my own. “Fix this, Leary,” he says hoarsely—almost pleading—and my panties immediately get soaked with need.

My hands shoot out and grab him by his hips, pulling on him hard so his cock slides all the way into my mouth, bumping against the back of my throat.

“Yes,” Reeve moans, both of his hands now coming to hold on to the sides of my head.

I hum in pleasure at the feel and taste of him in my mouth. I move my tongue as best I can, but there’s not much room to maneuver because his size is so invading. I slide my hands around to his ass and press my fingers in, urging him to move.

Reeve doesn’t need any further encouragement. He starts pumping his hips, fucking my mouth as I suck gently, alternating with laving strokes of my tongue along the underside of his cock. He groans, grunts, growls as he thrusts back and forth.

His pants aren’t pulled down enough, so I can only settle for fondling his balls through the material of his pants, careful not to press the zipper into his flesh.

“Fuck, that’s good, baby,” Reeve whispers as he pushes in and out of me.

Yes, it is. Great, even.

It’s funny—I can brush my teeth and have the bristles hit the back of the tongue, causing me to retch and gag, but for some reason, a cock hitting the back of my throat has never bothered me. Maybe it’s the silky texture of skin, or the sinful nature of the act, but for whatever reason, my body does not rebel against a deep blow job.

And in this instance with Reeve Holloway sliding in and out of my mouth, I find I want him deeper still. His movements are measured, so I take matters into my own hands, pushing my face against him hard, taking him partway down my throat so my nose is pressed against his pelvis.

“Holy shit,” Reeve mutters with a hard jerk, and when he pulls back slightly, I feel the warm, salty gush of him start to fill my mouth.

This has never been my favorite part of a blow job, but for some reason, Reeve’s taste is compelling. Rather than wanting him to finish in a hurry, I keep sucking at him, hoping he gives me more.

“Oh, baby,” he groans as he fists my hair and his cock leaps again in my mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I keep at him . . . sucking, gently licking his flesh, scraping my teeth against him, until he finally has to push me away. Licking my lips, I raise my eyes to his and am momentarily stunned to see the tender look on his face. He releases my hair, sliding both hands to my face, stroking his thumbs over my cheekbones.

“You are magnificent,” he murmurs.

Reeve pulls me up, and I rise on shaky legs. He keeps tugging until my face comes level with his, and he kisses me deeply, surely tasting his orgasm on my tongue.

“I don’t have many more questions for Jenna,” Reeve says quietly when he releases me from the kiss.

I nod, completely sated and fulfilled. Triumphant, even.

“You’re coming to my house after we’re done. Take the rest of the day off,” he commands.

My first instinct is to rebel and say no, but I can’t. I want him too much, and I want him to return the favor with his mouth between my legs. Then I want him to fuck me with that big dick and make me come again.

“Okay,” I breathe out, wondering how in the hell I’m going to concentrate on this deposition when I know that he just fucked my mouth so exquisitely.

CHAPTER 8

REEVE

I’m calm and relaxed.

How could I not be with what just happened in Leary’s office?

That teasing minx. I can’t believe she was trying to give me a foot job right in the middle of a deposition. At her first touch, all of the repressed sexual energy I’d been battling this past week came surging to the forefront. I knew there was no way I could continue with one more question to Jenna LaPietra until I made Leary suck me off.

Oh, she tried to act like she didn’t want it at first, but I’m not stupid. She not only wanted it but loved my domineering nature. For all of Leary’s sexual confidence and uninhibited attitude, I just learned that she very much likes being controlled in her fucking. I tuck this information away to experiment with later tonight.

“Let’s go back on the record,” I say to the court reporter. When the mask covers her face and she gives me a nod that she’s ready, I turn back to Jenna.

“Thank you for your patience so far, Jenna. I don’t have many more questions left,” I say with a warm smile.

While I’m fighting tooth and nail against Jenna and her case, I’ve found throughout this deposition that she’s actually a very intelligent woman. She’s soft-spoken, and no doubt intimidated by this entire process, but still has enough confidence to give me clear answers that might have been slightly coached by Leary. Needless to say, I’m impressed with Jenna LaPietra, and that will definitely be considered if we offer any money on this case. Of course, that all depends on Tom Collier. He controls the purse strings, and my opinion on settlement won’t matter too much.

“I want to talk for a moment about your decision to have this surgery, okay?”

She nods at me.

“Good. Now, was this breast reduction medically necessary?” I ask.

“Objection,” Leary says calmly. “You’re asking for a medical opinion. Save it for the experts.”

“Let me ask this way,” I say without giving Leary a glance. “Did any doctor tell you that this surgery was medically necessary?”

Jenna shakes her head. “No, but I was having a lot of back pain because of the size of my breasts. That’s why I decided to have it done.”