CaddyGirls (10 page)

And pleasing herself, if his lust-addled senses were still operating correctly. Her face flushed with desire as she worked him over. Torrey was the kind of woman a man dreamed about—sexy, enthusiastic, and endearingly vulnerable. A woman who took as much pleasure from giving as she did from receiving.

He collapsed on the cool leather cushions, the blood pounding hotly through his veins. For a long, teasing moment her tongue coasted in a wet glide across the bottom of his shaft. Then she took him deep in her throat, inch by inch until her lips neared the base. Julian almost lost control, driven insane by the sight and feel of Torrey working her mouth up and down on his aching cock. She looked so beautiful, with her dark hair a glorious, sexy mess around her slender shoulders and full breasts, and her mouth glistening moist and pink as she took him all the way in.

He let out a low groan, desperate now for release.

Torrey got the message. She massaged his balls one more time then released her grip on his shaft. He erupted, flooding her mouth, arching his back as shudders raced through his body. She milked his cock, sucking him until not a drop could possibly remain. Then they both collapsed in a hot, sweaty tangle—completely and totally spent.

Torrey sprawled across Julian’s body, her head resting on his muscular chest. If his panting breaths and rapid heartbeat were any indication, she’d just given him a hell of an orgasm.

She nestled closer, relishing the feel of her hips cradled between his hard thighs. His arms encircled her protectively as he gently stroked down her spine. She had never been this content, this sexually satisfied. Julian had brought her to a mind-blowing orgasm, and she was thrilled she’d been able to return the favor. Even more amazing, she’d enjoyed every second of it. Torrey had always been happy to oblige a lover with oral sex, even though it didn’t do that much for her. But it had been different with Julian—she had loved making him come, and she couldn’t wait to do it again.

She combed her fingers through the wiry hairs on his chest as he trailed his hand down her back to squeeze her bottom. It seemed strange, but she felt so secure in his arms, so confident. And confidence hadn’t been her long suit, not for a long time. She should be fretting about the golf game she had to play for Julian and the other OTE partners, and if she had a shred of common sense she would be. With so much riding on one game it was more than possible she might succumb to a bad case of the yips. But she felt calm, even happy, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Great sex might have something to do with that, but she suspected her confession to Julian—and his sympathetic response—was really the reason she felt finally free of the remnants of grief and anxiety that had dogged her for months.

He stirred beneath her. “You seem a little far away. Are you falling asleep?” he murmured as he gently tickled her ribs.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Oh, no. I’m right here with you, don’t worry about that.”

“Good. I don’t want you going anywhere. Stay with me for as long as you can.”

Her heart squeezed with a bittersweet rush of longing. God, he couldn’t possibly know how good his words sounded to her. How much she wished she could stay right here, in his embrace, for a very long time. It was beginning to scare her, how much she wanted to be with him.

He tilted her chin up and stroked a finger across her mouth. Obediently, she parted her lips to his probing tongue. Her body, caught in a sexual languor, responded to the deep kiss as if an electric current had jolted through her. She threw a leg over his hip as he pulled her into a tight embrace. The friction of his thigh against her mound made her inner muscles tighten in anticipation.

Without breaking the full-contact kiss, Julian reached down between her thighs and teased a finger over her slick flesh. She squirmed, whimpering into his mouth as he pushed first one, then two fingers inside. Immediately she contracted around him, bringing herself to the brink of orgasm.

With his other hand—the one massaging her bottom—he nudged her up so he could reach her breasts. His mouth, hot and wet from their kiss, fastened on her nipple, and he began to suck even as he stroked her drenched pussy. Torrey gasped and clutched at his shoulders as his fingers stretched her, opening her wide for his cock. When he withdrew his slick fingers and rubbed them over her needy clit, she cried out as tiny spasms rippled out from her core.

“Please, Julian,” she panted. “You better do something soon, because I can’t take much more of this.”

He gave a husky laugh and rolled her off him and onto the sofa. Without a word, he slid his arms around her and stood, picking her up in one smooth motion.

Torrey almost came on the spot. Yes, it was ridiculously sexist and retro on her part, but she loved that he could carry her so easily. She loved feeling like a helpless female—at least for tonight, anyway. Julian was all-man—big, strong and protective, and she could almost believe that with him, she was totally safe and secure.

In a few quick steps he had her in the bedroom, letting her down on the plush, king-size bed with her head resting on a huge pile of soft cushions. She relaxed, enjoying the sensation of the cool silky bedspread on her bare skin as Julian padded into the ensuite bathroom. In seconds he returned, ripping open the foil packet of a condom. Pressing the rolled latex against his now fully erect, impressive shaft—really, the man
was
amazing—he sheathed himself in one long stroke.

He stood for a second, looking down at her, his eyes dark with passion and his features grown hard with hunger. No man had ever looked at her with such intensity. Excitement, mingled with an odd little surge of apprehension, weakened her limbs. Then he was on her, his body as hot as the desert sun, claiming her mouth in a wild rush. She opened her legs wide, and he pressed the head of his cock against her opening. He pushed in slowly, easily, and then he was in her all the way, one smooth, sinking thrust, so deep, filling her so completely that she cried out against his mouth. As he slowly flexed his hips, going even deeper, she wrapped her legs around his ass, desperate to feed the torrent of pleasure that rippled through her body in luxurious waves.

Julian broke the kiss and came up on his arms. The change in angle brought each stroke of his pelvis in contact with her throbbing clit. She clutched his biceps, her fingers digging into muscles as smooth as stone but burning her fingertips with a scorching heat. She pulled him tightly into her as he stroked, leisurely at first, but then faster, wilder as her interior muscles began to clench around him. The musky scent of his body, the slippery glide of his erection in her slick flesh as he filled her, made her crazy. She bit back a sob of passion, her spine arching as he drove her to the edge of her climax.

Torrey let her head drop back onto the pillows, giving everything up to him. He watched her through slitted eyes of dark heat, his face pulled tight with a feral sensuality. This was a Julian she hadn’t seen before, and she loved it. She loved his hard, tanned body poised above her, she loved the feel of his cock pumping into her, she loved the sensation that, for once, she didn’t need to be in control.

“God, Torrey, you’re so hot,” he growled, his muscles bunching underneath her hands. “I want to fuck you all night, but—”

He groaned and closed his eyes as he started to come.

Her own climax built to the breaking point, exquisite heat welling up inside her. Julian’s face contorted as she spasmed around him. With a final thrust, he threw them both over the edge. Her orgasm rocked her, an ecstasy of release that sent shivers racing along her nerves.

Arching his back, Julian gave one final, powerful thrust and poured out his release. Torrey curled herself around, cradling him with her body and silently, foolishly wishing that this night would never end.

Here we go,
Julian thought as Josh sauntered into the restaurant for breakfast, obviously ready to rag on the rest of them for losing the bet.

“All hail the conquering hero,” Brendan grumbled, reluctantly making room for Josh at their table by the window.

Josh couldn’t stop smirking. “You guys never had any doubt, did you? Krista resisted a little longer than I thought she would, though. For a while there I was starting to wonder if I was losing my touch.”

“Josh, that bet isn‘t something any of us should be gloating about,” Julian said, his tone sharper than he‘d intended.

Josh frowned. “Touchy, are we? Admit it—you’re just pissed that you didn‘t score yourself.”

Julian just snorted. He had no intention of responding to crap like that.

Josh’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, hell—you have got to be kidding me! I know that look. Jules. You did Torrey the Hottie last night. Didn’t you?”

Julian clenched his teeth. Josh had always been able to read him like an open book. “I’d prefer if you spoke of Torrey more respectfully. She isn’t anything like the trashy women you normally hang out with.”

He had a quick, vivid flash of Torrey, barely awake when he had left his room a few minutes ago. She had looked sexy and sweet, and somehow very vulnerable curled up alone in the king-size bed.

Michael glanced at Julian, obviously sensing his displeasure. “So boy genius here is going to play golf with Nick Wells,” he said, deflecting the conversation back to Josh. “Try not to embarrass the company too much while you’re over there, okay?”

Josh flipped him the bird, then turned to Brendan. “What about you, Bren? Any luck with Miss Annie?”

Brendan shook his head, a small grin creasing his angular face. “Annie’s a sweet girl, and I think she likes me. I thought she might be a brain-challenged showgirl, but she’s damn smart. She wants to manage a dance company someday, so she’s saving up to go to university to study theater management.”

Josh whistled. “Wow, just thinking about a girl studying theater management gives me a woodie.”

Brendan gave Josh a hard shove, almost knocking him off his chair.

Julian bit back a curse. “Knock it off, you two. And give Brendan a break, Josh.” He waved his hand as if to dismiss the subject. “Listen, enough about the stupid bet. It’s over, and Josh won. It’s about time we put all our focus on business.”

“Business and golf,” Josh chimed in.

“And the ladies. Right, Josh?” Michael added sarcastically.

“Maybe we could trade,” Josh mused, starting the whole thing up again. “I’m done with Krista. One more night, and she’ll think she can change me. And you know how likely
that
is to ever happen.”

Julian thumped his fist on the table. This was one of those times Josh’s immaturity drove him nuts. It was a damned good thing the idiot was so good at his job, because some days he stretched Julian’s patience to the limit.

“Jesus, I really don’t give a damn what you do or who you do it with! Now that the bet’s finished, it’s nobody’s business any more. We’ve got a big problem with Apollo. That’s what we need to focus on, not what’s happening with our dicks.”

“Jeez, somebody didn’t get his nap this morning. What’s the problem, boss?” Josh said, looking annoyed.

“It’s a good thing I need you, asshole, or I’d have to strangle you and spend the rest of my life in jail,” Julian growled. He took a couple of deep breaths and went back to business. “Look, while you guys take care of the show, I’m going to spend the morning on the phone. We need to get a handle on whether Colton is blowing smoke about his investors, or if there’s a real fire.”

“Fuck him,” Michael swore. “How can we work with that guy now? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. We can’t let Colton screw us again. Let’s go with the hostile bid and take him out.”

Brendan bolted upright in his chair. “Michael, come on. You know we’d have to pay a big fat premium on their stock price in a straight takeover. Their board would fight us and drive the price up as high as they could. Let’s just get the merger done. Then we can deal with Colton Kerr once we’re in full control.”

As usual, Brendan was right, but Julian couldn’t blame the others for being pissed. “Simmer down, guys,” he said in a firm voice. “Let me see what I can find out. Then we’ll lay out a strategy. I’ll meet you at the course this afternoon. And don’t worry—I’m not about to let Colton screw us again.”

Torrey had dozed while Julian showered and dressed. She only woke when he nibbled her earlobe. Her eyes had snapped open to find him sitting on the bed beside her, looking wide awake and totally, wonderfully put together. She hadn’t wanted to even think about how she looked at that moment, but he hadn’t appeared the slightest bit concerned. When she’d asked if he had to go so soon, he just shrugged and said “business,” and then invited her to stay in the suite and order breakfast. Before slipping out, he’d cupped her head and given her a long, tender kiss.

After a luxurious shower in the cavernous ensuite bathroom, Torrey wrapped herself in the baby-soft robe she found hanging on the back of the door. The expensive brushed cotton was suffused with that distinctive man-smell she’d savored all night as she snuggled against Julian. It made her long to have his arms around her again.

She stared at herself in the mirror—normal old Torrey again—as she dried her hair. What were the chances that this could go anywhere? Not great, she would have to say. Most likely, Julian had already taken from her what he wanted. At best, she’d only have him for two more days until he went back to California, and then it would be goodbye forever.

She sighed and returned to the bedroom, unable to keep from wondering if his sponsorship proposal had just been a strategy to get her into bed. After all, he’d promised nothing except to try to convince his partners to back her. She’d been so damn excited last night that her brain had ignored any and all warning signals. But now the worries, never far from her thoughts, started to stalk her. Julian had clearly wanted to have sex the first night and—despite his explanations—had seemed ticked off when she’d run away. The next night he’d held out the carrot and she’d grabbed at it. A few minutes later, and they were practically having sex in the elevator.

Surely he wouldn’t pull the carrot away now, would he? Julian had been kind and sweet from the beginning, if sometimes a little intimidating. She was likely doing him a grave injustice by doubting him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was going on, something that had to do with his partners.

But what?

Doing her best to shut down the negative voices in her head, she grabbed the room service menu off the coffee table. Just about everything to do with Julian was out of her control. All she could do was mentally prepare herself to play the best round of golf of her life—to stand up to relentless pressure for eighteen holes as she performed for four tough critics. She’d just have to do her best and hope for good karma.

Feeling more than a bit guilty, but doing it anyway, she ordered ridiculously over-priced and over-rich food—eggs Florentine, crepes with real Canadian maple syrup, fresh fruit and a pot of coffee. She only managed to get half of it down and wished she had a Tupperware container to take the rest home.

After breakfast, Torrey pulled on her rumpled casino suit, retrieved her car from the parking garage, and pulled onto the I-15 freeway south toward Henderson. Though the digital clock in her car told her it wasn’t yet ten o’clock, the pavement already shimmered with scorching heat. Golf today would be another endurance test. She sighed, pressing down hard on the accelerator. The wind blasted in from her open window, massacring her hair. But at least it provided a bit of relief from the oppressive heat. The air conditioning in her ancient Subaru had long since surrendered to overuse, and getting it fixed remained a financial impossibility.

By the time she climbed the stairs to her apartment, the pampered luxury of Julian’s suite seemed a distant memory. She flung her suit jacket straight into the dry cleaning basket and wriggled out of the matching skirt. As she undid the buttons of her perspiration-soaked shirt, Torrey remembered Julian’s hungry gaze. Her trembling fingers had opened those same buttons last night. Just thinking about it made her temperature soar into the danger zone. God, she wished he was here right now—she’d throw him down on her narrow little bed and not let him up for a week.

She gave herself another mental slap. Sex with Julian was just going to be a brutally short escape from reality. Golf, and the sponsorship from OTE, was about the rest of her life. She couldn’t let herself ever forget that—no matter what.

Torrey pounded the ball, again and again, launching deadly accurate and long drives that landed near the two-hundred-fifty-yard marker on the range. The deeply satisfying ping of her TaylorMade driver as it made contact with the ball was sweet music. By the time she’d run through the bucket of balls, her clothes were drenched in sweat, but she felt blissfully happy. Since she was a little kid, nothing in the world had been able to top the joy of stroking a long, perfect drive, even in practice.

Well, okay—sex with Julian Grant topped it, but she wasn’t getting her hopes up that she would ever find herself in bed with him again.

Driving had never been Torrey’s problem. She’d always been sweet and straight off the tee. Her long irons were solid too, and she’d developed a competent short game that sometimes bordered on the outstanding. As a result, her greens in regulation percentage—that all-important indicator of excellence in shot-making from tee to green—equaled or bettered that of most of the golfers on the women’s tour.

Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for her putting skills. Always her Achilles heel, Torrey had struggled to master the putting game all her life. As an NCAA player, she’d been only an average putter, but the rest of her skills were so outstanding that she almost always won her matches anyway. But she’d have to do better to make the pros.

She shoved the driver back into her bag and lugged it over to the massive practice green the Desert Rocks course had built as part of their practice center. Dropping two handfuls of balls on the putting surface, she pulled out her brand-new putter. Just two weeks ago, frustration with her mediocre play had driven her to switch from a standard model to the unorthodox belly putter. Still getting used to its longer length and the strange feel of the grip against her stomach, she’d nevertheless started to get excited about the results. It seemed to help her fight the yips—the nerves and jiggles that too often accompanied short putts.

She spent a full hour in the fiery late morning sun rolling in putts from all distances and angles. The sun felt as if it was burning right through her pink cotton golf shirt, but she kept at it, taking shade and water breaks every fifteen minutes. By the end of the hour, she practically skipped from the practice green to her car. Julian had made it clear that he wouldn’t ask her to play until tomorrow or the next day, which meant she could squeeze in at least another few rounds of practice. And if she shot as well as she had this morning, the sponsorship, God willing, was in the bag.