‘Sure.’ She poured a DiSaronno amaretto for him and a Frangelico for herself, then took his hand, leading him into the den where a fire was burnin... in the fireplace. She sat back on the leather couch, propping a pillow up behind her and spreading her legs, patting the space between. He settled against her, his entire body relaxing at the touch of her hand sliding over his shoulders and chest. ‘This is what I need.’ He reached up and caught her hand, pressing his lips into her palm. She cupped. I wanted to fuck that slut machine so hard, my dick would hurt for months as a reminder. I raced towards her, ignoring Natasha's calls for me. I grabbed Brielle's hand and shivered at the smoothness of it. Brielle gasped, clearly startled but a small smile formed on her lips as she looked up at me. "Well, well, if it isn't James Carder. What do you want?" She said huskily. Bitch. She knew what I wanted. She could tell from my deep breathing and sweaty hands. "Business" I muttered as a reply.. More

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