Ah, God, now Brenna was pumping him with her fist and taking him deeper into her mouth. The suction around his c**k increased.
“You okay, bro? You look like you’re sweating.” Dane raised an eyebrow, then leaned back in his chair. “You’re not coming down with something, are you? Next week’s going to be busy and we’re going to need all hands on deck.”
“No, I’m fine.” He forced himself to reach up and wipe a hand across his brow. “Just didn’t sleep well is all.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds like you got something in your throat.”
And with that, Brenna took him deep, and he felt the head of his c**k butt against the back of her throat. His legs clenched, and it took everything he had not to buck into her mouth.
“Uh . . . yeah.” Christ, what was he talking about? He had no idea. All he could think of was Brenna sucking on him while Dane sat there and tried to have a conversation with him. Was she wet? Did this turn her on? Were her little ni**les poking through her T-shirt, still? God, he wanted to see her, watch her head going up and down on his cock. Just the thought of that made him shift involuntarily.
Dane gave him another weird look. “Anyway. It’s good that I caught you. Colt and I wanted to talk to you about the new guy. That was fast.”
“Brenna moves fast,” he wheezed out as she took him deep again. God, did she move fast. “I have no complaints.”
He nodded. “Seems like a nice enough guy. I don’t know if he has the experience we’re looking for, but he looks athletic enough to keep up, and that’s all that really matters. Colt and I can teach him the rest.”
“Good.” Fuck, he should have said more, but his mind was a blank. It was like she was sucking away his thoughts as she deep throated him.
Light fingers tickled his balls, and then Grant had to clench the arms of the chair all over again as she began to roll his testicles in one hand, still working him with her mouth.
“I wanted to talk to you about Brenna, too—”
“Now is not the time,” Grant barked out. Ah, f**k, she was going to make him come if she kept that up, but her fingers were driving him wild.
Dane put both of his hands up. “Whoa. I was just asking. Didn’t realize it was so sensitive.”
Sensitive was not the word to use right now. More like delicious torture. He couldn’t think past Brenna’s mouth, and how badly he wanted to push deeper into it. Her motions picked up a rhythm, and she wrapped both hands around the base of his cock, pumping again as she began to work him. He leaned forward on his desk, and he felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead with the strain of keeping his cool. God, he was going to come . . .
Dane was still talking, and Grant had to force himself to concentrate on what his friend was saying. “. . . should probably take Rome out for a beer. Get to hang with the guys and get to know us if he’s going to be working with us.”
“Sounds good,” Grant gritted between clenched teeth. Fuck. He could feel his need rising in his cock, felt his balls getting tight. He was about to burst.
“Cool.” Dane sat there for a moment longer, just giving him an odd look, as if trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with Grant. When he couldn’t, he pulled out his phone and began to text. “I think I’ll see if Miranda needs me to bring her lunch or something.”
Dane disappeared out of the lodge.
Grant’s hands clenched into fists, trying to control himself while Brenna worked his cock. And when that didn’t work, he reached under the desk, fisted his hands into her hair, and began to thrust into her mouth, desperate with need. Her soft murmur of surprise made him so f**king horny he could hardly stand it, and he began to pound into her wet mouth, slicking between her lips, pushing into her. Harsh, panting breaths escaped him, and he was nearly insensible with need.
And then she tightened the suction.
He came, biting out a curse even as he drove into her mouth, his entire body wracked with release. The ferocity of his orgasm made his legs cramp and his toes curl, and hot cum shot into her mouth. He felt her pull back a little, felt her throat working as she tried to swallow, and goddamn if that didn’t feel incredible, too. But he pulled out, collapsing backward in his chair, and tried to catch his breath. “Fuck me.”
Brenna pushed forward a little, shoving his chair backward and emerging out from under the desk. She delicately ran a finger along her lips, as if determined to catch every drop. “We might have to,” she said in a light voice. “You never called out my name.”
“That means you lost,” he told her, panting, and hastily shoved his c**k back into his boxers and pants before anyone came in and saw him with his dick hanging out.
“Mmm.” She ran a hand down the front of her shirt and then caressed her br**sts. Her ni**les were hard and erect. “I did lose. And now I’m really, really turned on.” Her voice had gone breathless. “I don’t suppose you want to—”
“Yes, I do.” Grant grabbed her hand and they raced to his cabin.
• • •
If anyone wondered where he was that afternoon, they didn’t say. Grant emerged from his cabin several hours later, freshly showered, completely spent, and in a fantastic mood. Brenna was curled up in his sheets, sleeping. He felt a bit guilty for abandoning his visiting parents, but he could cite a work emergency. Or something. He suspected they’d just be happy that he was dating again.
Or so they thought.
He found Dane and Colt sitting in the main lodge with Rome. Pizzas had been ordered and the smell of hot pepperoni and cheese filled the air. Dane sat on one of the couches, beer and pizza in hand, while Rome and Colt played one of the shooting games that Colt loved. A case of Dane’s favorite Canadian import sat on the floor nearby.
Grant headed over to the couches and sat down across from Dane, grabbing a beer and popping the lid off. “I thought we were going out for beers.”
“We were,” Dane said around a mouthful of pizza.
“But someone went into hiding and left us with his parents. I had to drive them back to the Peppermint House and they decided not to wait on you for dinner. So we did the same. Hope you like pizza, cause you bought it.”
He reached for a slice, his mood mellow. “Pizza’s fine.” He dropped a piece onto a paper plate and then took a swig of the beer, grimacing at the strong taste. Dane loved Canadian beer—a leftover from his NHL days, Grant supposed. Shit would put hair on your chest.