“Lake?”

  Startled, I spin, the smile still on my face, bottle in hand and overflowing into the hot tub.

  His expression is nothing like what I expected. The warm, effusive man is gone. Now he’s looking at me the way he used to. He’s the detached CEO, friendly but not smoldering.

  My stomach sinks, yet my heart pounds out a rhythm in my chest, the two reactions in complete juxtaposition to one another, as I take him in. The cold champagne running down my arm reminds me of the mess I’m making. Shit. I slide the mouth of the bottle between my lips in an attempt to stop the liquid from overflowing into his hot tub.

  “Shit, sorry,” I say, pulling the bottle away and swiping at the excess liquid on my lips. The champagne burns a line of bubbles down my throat and goes straight to my head. Or maybe the dizziness that hits me is from the lust that’s soaking through my body at the way Ford is looking at me.

  Why is the detached expression doing it for me? Furrowed brow, slight frown, not quite cold eyes, but not warm either? Yep. Every bit of it. It’s exactly how he looked at me the night he found me just like this so many months ago…

  He locks his jaw and lets his gaze track down my body. I dip my chin and follow the path he takes. There’s a trickle of champagne still slowly making its way between my breasts and red smudges on one hand. Shit. My lipstick. It’s probably smudged around my mouth too.

  But when I go to wipe at it, Ford’s sharp command stops me. “Leave it.”

  “Sorry.” I drop my hand and peer up at him. “I thought I was alone.”

  His attention is still locked firmly on me. “Where’s my son?”

  Holy shit, we’re really doing this.

  Lowering my lashes, I throw back another gulp of champagne, then hold it out to him.

  He’s still looming over the hot tub, sweats sitting low on his hips, torso bare, muscles flexing as he folds his arms across his chest.

  “He went out.”

  With a shake of his head, he tuts. “He left you on your birthday?”

  Since he hasn’t taken the offered champagne, I tip it back once more, then set the bottle behind me and dip under the water before replying. “It’s okay. I didn’t want to go out. Just wanted to relax.”

  Ford sighs heavily. “I’ll let you be, then.” Without another word, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turns back toward the house.

  The water sloshes as I sit up quickly. “Wait!”

  His steps falter, and for a moment, he stands still with his back to me. When he looks at me over his shoulder, he’s got one brow arched. “Need something?”

  More than anything, I want to blurt out yes, your cock, but we’re playing a game, and we both know I’ll get that soon enough. “Um, it’s your hot tub. I don’t want to intrude.” Water sluices down my body as I stand. “I can go inside so you can have it all to yourself.”

  Ford hisses and roughs a hand down his face. “Sit down.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your bathing suit,” he grits out. “It’s…” He presses one hand to his forehead and averts his eyes while he waves the other hand up and down, gesturing to my body. “I can see everything.”

  All the air leaves my lungs as I glance down at myself. Sure enough, the bathing suit is, in fact, completely see-through. That dirty man. I almost laugh, but I pull myself together instead and continue with my role. Biting my lip, I reply, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hall. I didn’t realize anyone would be home.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” His voice is harder now, and he’s stalking toward me. The air is so cold I should be shivering, but the heat from the water and the way his gaze sears my skin keep me standing. His attention dips to my nipples and holds as he steps up to the edge of the tub. “I think you knew precisely what you were doing.”

  The words cut through the air. Aren’t they the truth? Since the moment I asked Ford to kiss me on the dance floor, I’ve known. Or at least I thought I did.

  Now I’m starting to wonder if my pretense was just that. Have I always wanted this with him? Did I ignore the desire because of our professional relationship and our age difference? It isn’t hard to reimagine the last time we met like this. Only when I do, I let myself see him for who he really is, and I allow my deepest, most hidden longings to bubble to the surface. Maybe I have always lusted after my boyfriend’s father.

  Either way, I can’t imagine going back to that moment and not finding him irresistible. I must have seen it.

  “I—” I glance down and watch as he swipes a thumb against my pebbled nipple. The white fabric clings to my wet skin, making the pink beneath it obvious.

  “Be honest, Lake, you sent Paul out tonight in hopes that I’d find you out here. Alone.” He swallows thickly and looks me up and down. “Like this.”

  His words scrape at me. He might as well have licked between my thighs for how wet I am.

  “N-no. That’s not—” I shake my head and take a step back. The water tickles my skin as it bubbles around my legs. “I’ll just go inside.”

  “Please sit. You shouldn’t be alone on your birthday.”

  With a sigh, I take another step back, intent on settling beneath the surface. I’ll keep my body hidden like I would have back then. Like I did. Because that night, I was naked beneath the bubbles. Though back then, I thought Ford hadn’t noticed.

  “Wait,” he says, grasping my arm. When he pulls me close, his eyes are slits.

  I blink up at him. “Is there something wrong?”

  “You’re still covered in champagne.” He says it like he’s angry about it. “It’s going to get in the hot tub if you sit back down.”

  “And?”

  “And it’ll fuck with the chemicals.”

  I almost giggle, because it absolutely will not fuck with the chemicals and I’ve already dipped below the surface once. Instead, I give him a look of feigned shock. “Oh, should I get out and clean off first?”

  He shakes his head and presses up against the side of the tub. “No—just let me…” Dipping his head, he closes his mouth around the swell of my breast and sucks. Then he licks at my chest. The feel of his tongue, warm and soft, is such a contrast to the frigid air. His steely gaze remains fixed on me as he cleans me with his tongue.

  When a moan slips out, he peeks up and smirks. “You’re not supposed to enjoy that.”

  “I’m not supposed to enjoy the feeling of your hot tongue on my body?”

  “You’re not supposed to enjoy having your boyfriend’s father’s hot tongue on your body,” he reminds me.

  Lust races through my veins, making my knees wobble. It’s wicked the way I feel right now.

  “You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he says. His eyes are hard, but the tiny smirk playing on his lips gives away precisely how he feels.

  “No,” I lie. “I’m sorry.”

  “You can sit now.” He releases me and pulls back.

  Disappointment ricochets through me when cool air rushes between us, but I obey, settling into the molded seat behind me while I watch him slip off his sweats. I salivate as I wait to see what he’s got on under them. The night he caught me in the hot tub, he was wearing board shorts. I assumed he didn’t know I was naked, otherwise he wouldn’t have climbed in across from me. Then, I sat low in hopes he wouldn’t notice while I tried my best to not stare at his chiseled chest.

  Now, I wish I was naked. I wish we both were.

  When Ford slides his thumbs beneath his waistband and drags his sweats down his thighs, breath hisses from my lips. He’s completely fucking naked and hard as a rock.

  “Working on any songs lately?”

  The subject change throws me. I try not to gawk at him, but my body is on fire.

  Making a tsking noise, he shakes his head and grabs himself. “Now look what you’ve done.” He runs his hand up his shaft and circles the head with his thumb. His gaze snaps to mine. “What would your boyfriend think if he came home and saw how hard you’ve made me? You’re going to have to take care of this before he gets here.”

  My pussy clenches so violently I squeeze my thighs together to soothe the ache. “Take care of it? Wouldn’t it look worse if he caught me touching you?”

  He lets out a low grunt. “He won’t see anything because my cock will be shoved down your throat.” The water splashes as he steps into the tub and stalks across the bench until he’s looming over me, his cock in his hand. “Open.”

  I scramble to my knees for a better angle, my pussy spasming in anticipation. His words alone will be the death of me.

  “Those goddamn red lips. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured them circling my cock while you suck me down.”

  I press a kiss to the head, staining his flesh with my lipstick. Then I swirl my tongue around it, teasing him a bit.

  He grunts. “Open that fucking mouth, Red.”

  Peering up at him, I obey, smiling around him as he slides inside. He doesn’t go easy on me. He grasps the back of my head to hold me in place and pushes all the way to the back of my throat.

  “Fuck…this mouth is famous for all the wrong things.”

  His face is cast in shadow as he slides his hand from the back of my head down and along my neck until he’s cupping my chin and rubbing a thumb against my cheek softly. “You feel like heaven.”

  It’s a momentary break in the game we’ve been playing. But it doesn’t make the scene any less hot. Arguably the most powerful man in the music industry is looking at me like what we’re doing is so much more than a dirty fantasy. Like my mouth and what it’s doing are not what he’s referring to. Like maybe, just maybe, we’re more than a dirty fantasy.

  But thoughts like that have never led me anywhere good. Believing any man who shows an interest in me wants long-term commitment is stupid. Thinking this could be more than a fling would be stupid. So I grip his base and start moving. Sucking and licking and lapping at him while he curses about how fucking amazing I am, about how good my mouth feels and how he’s about to come down my throat.

  The way he calls me his dirty little slut sends a shiver of excitement down my spine, and when he finishes with a curse and pulls me down into the hot tub to kiss me, I ignore the pangs of need I’m inundated with. Not lust-filled need, but the need to be held. To escape in his kisses. They’re long and brutal and taste like sin.

  Like him.

  When it becomes too much, when the drug threatens to take me under, I push off and settle back into my role. “Better stay over there. Otherwise your son might come home to find you fucking his girlfriend.”

  Ford lifts his chin and peruses me with an aloof expression, but in one quick movement, he lifts me onto the ledge of the hot tub. “Good girl, so long as he doesn’t kiss you, he’ll never know how hard your sexy little body makes me.”

  I’m so fucking turned on I don’t feel the cold air kissing my skin. His gaze on the space between my thighs is just as wicked as his words.

  Will he eat me right here? My heart stumbles at the thought. I can’t help but peer over at the window to the room I’ve always occupied in the past. With Paul. Obviously, we’re alone, but Ford chuckles as if he knows precisely what I’m thinking.

  “We’re not doing anything wrong, Lake,” he soothes. “I’m sitting in the hot tub, and you’re going to play a song for me.”

  I blink at him, surprised. “You want me to play for you?”

  “Yes. The one from earlier.” This time there’s a hint of warmth in his tone.

  I reach for my guitar, but before I can settle it on my thighs, Ford grabs a towel and pats my skin dry. Even within this game, he’s doing things for me, watching out for me, taking care of me.

  “Lose the top,” he instructs, the harsh tone at odds with the tender gesture.

  “Huh?” The conflicting sentiments have me reeling.

  “Take off that fucking tease of a top, Lake. Don’t get your guitar wet.”

  I set the guitar behind me again, and with my eyes on him, I bring a hand behind my back and untie the strings. The top loosens around my breasts, but the wet fabric clings to my skin. Ford grunts, signaling me to undo the one around my neck. When I do, he snatches the suit from my body and fists it tight.

  “You have the most amazing tits.” A rough breath escapes him.

  Oh god. My breasts feel heavy under his stare, my pink nipples hard.

  “Open your legs.”

  I don’t hesitate to comply.

  “Are you wet from sucking me off?” He says it almost introspectively, like he’s truly considering the possibility.

  “Maybe.” I’m breathless and aching for him to find out.

  “Slide the fabric over, Red.” He roughs a hand down his face. “Let me see.”

  He’s mere inches from my center as I use one finger to slide the fabric to the side and expose myself to him.

  “Fuck,” he mutters. He shakes his head and peers up at me. “You’re dripping for me. We can’t leave the evidence.”

  Without warning, he dives in and slides his tongue along my slit. The warmth of his mouth leaves me bucking back and moaning. When he sucks on my clit, I cry out.

  “Shh, Red. I’m just cleaning up this mess.” And then he goes to work, licking and sucking and making me even wetter.

  With another cry of ecstasy, I grasp the hair at the back of his head and ride his face.

  Ford pushes back, and with steady hands, he unties my bathing suit. “You aren’t even trying to hide anymore,” he grits out. “You’re sitting here naked and grinding that greedy pussy all over my face.”

  “Please,” I beg. “I need you to fuck me.”

  Shaking his head, he stands and grabs a towel. He dries my body first and wraps me in a second dry towel, then takes care of himself. And with a flourish, he scoops me into his arms and strides into the house. “I need you in my bed.”

  At the top of the stairs, I can’t help but glance at the closed door that leads to Paul’s room. “We’ve got to be quiet,” I whisper. “Wouldn’t want to get caught.”

  Ford growls as he pushes into his bedroom. “No.” He tosses me onto the bed. “Let him hear you scream. Maybe then he’ll finally know what it sounds like when you come.”

  11

  FORD

  I DID SOMETHING BAD

  Until last week, I’d prided myself on my ability to control almost everything in my life. There wasn’t much that tempted me—not a music deal that I’d spend too much on because of ridiculous notions of a passion project, not by the flashiest of cars, and never by a woman. But the temptress in front of me? She’s stolen all my control. What was once a string so taut it threatened to snap every time she opened those pretty red lips is now two shredded pieces, flapping in the wind.

  Lake fucking owns me, and she isn’t for sale.

  Leaving her naked and writhing on my bed, I stalk to my drawer. She was so close to coming I could taste it. I left her balancing on the precipice when I stopped us outside.

  Fuck, I’ve lost my goddamn mind, taking her out in the open like that. My property is secluded and the trees and fencing keep it even more hidden, but still, it was reckless.

  I’ll never get into my hot tub again without picturing her sucking my cock.

  Or the dirty way I took her as if she wasn’t mine for the taking.

  She definitely is. The girl is as in this as I am. But the game we’ve been playing tonight? The one where she belongs to him, but I steal a taste anyway? Yeah, that makes me a dirty fucking scoundrel.

  She makes me a dirty scoundrel.

  It should feel wrong, pretending she’s still my son’s girlfriend. But he’s an ass and he doesn’t care, so why should I? We’re not hurting anyone. Just playing out a little kink that apparently turns us both on.

  Here, now, with her brown hair fanned out on my pillow and her lips swollen from sucking me off, with her hard pink nipples on display and her legs spread, she’s a goddamn vision.

  As I roll the condom on, she whimpers and runs her fingers over her swollen sex. “Need you.”

  “Say it louder, Lake. Tell me how much you need my cock. How it’s my cock you get off on. My cock that makes you come.”

  Tongue gliding across her lips, she shudders. “Yes, Ford,” she purrs. “Your cock is the only one to ever make me feel this way.”

  Fuck, that word, cock, from her beautiful mouth? It knocks me back. The world sees her as a sweet, demure star, but I know better. And fuck if it doesn’t make me stand taller, knowing I’m the only one who gets to see her this way.

  I kneel on the bed and shuffle closer. “Hold yourself open for me.”

  She obeys, spreading herself. Her back bows off the bed when I slide my cock between her lips, coating it in her desire.

  “Fuck, Ford, why does this feel so good?” Her voice is pained, desperate.

  She’s a damn siren, pulling me closer. Unable to resist, I dip my head and devour her mouth. Forgetting the games and the commands, I thrust inside her and swallow her responding moan along with anything else she’s willing to give me.

  We fuck like we can’t get enough of one another. Like we’ll be torn apart if we don’t hold tight. Her nails dig into my ass as she thrusts her hips to match my pace.

  “You feel so good, Lake. I’m never going to get enough of this tight little cunt. Of the way you squeeze me. Of your sounds.”

  She bites my lip as she spasms around me, then throws herself back and screams through her orgasm. Every pulse around me sends me closer to the edge. I want to hold out. I don’t want this to end. But I can’t fight the wave crashing over me. When my balls draw up tight, I know I’ve lost the battle. So I squeeze my glutes and set a punishing pace to the finish line. But she’s coming with me. With my thumb, I find her clit and circle it. “Come for me again, Red. Give me one more.”

  “I—can’t,” she cries beneath me. Only her pussy is telling me another story. As if on command, it pulses around me again.