PAPER RINGS
Warm lips press against mine, but I force myself to keep my eyes shut.
“See you soon, Red,” Ford whispers. A moment later, the bedroom door closes. When I hear the front door click shut, I bounce out of bed and rush to my suitcase.
The role play the other night got me thinking about how fun it would be to recreate another forbidden memory.
The day I signed with him.
Ford is objectively hot. I noticed that the moment I laid eyes on him. But back then, I was more enamored with the deal he’d proposed than by the way his almost silver eyes watched me. The hands I’m obsessed with now were only my focus for the moment it took him to sign the contract that gave me far too many millions and freedom from the assholes who were holding my music over my head.
Unlike my previous label, Ford’s offer was for a partnership. The earnings for every album are split equally between me and the label. At the time, it was almost too good to be true and a blatant show of respect. One that forced me to block out any impure thoughts I might have had for the man. He was making all my dreams come true, and I refused to do anything that might jeopardize that.
Now my career is the last thing on my mind when I look at Ford. Although I’ve got lyrics and melodies floating through my head at all times. He stirs emotions in me that make no sense. We’re nothing but a blip in time. Forbidden. Taboo. And yet somehow that makes us timeless.
For once, I’m not worrying about how another person feels about me or deconstructing where this will go.
I’m just living.
Feeling.
Wanting.
And what I want right now is to show up in Ford’s office to reenact that meeting. But with a twist. I want to experience what could have happened if I’d seen him the way I see him now. If I’d been this desperate to seduce him back then. To feel his touch.
To live with reckless abandon. Without thought for anyone but the two of us.
The office is buzzing the moment I walk in. Mouths fall open as I pass. Assistants and low-level execs flock to me, assuring me they can get me whatever I need. Phones in hands, no doubt recording my every step. It would all drain me if not for the man leaning against his office door. He’s slipped back into his detached persona. It would be convincing if not for the hint of amusement tugging at those delicious lips.
Enjoying his scrutiny, I stop and sign every piece of paper that’s thrust my way. I smile for every camera shoved in my face. Tilt my head and beam, knowing the entire world will soon discover that I’m visiting my ex-boyfriend’s dad at his office today.
Knowing Paul will know.
God, why does that make my stomach flutter? There’s got to be something seriously wrong with me, right? That I like the thought of him knowing I’m fucking his dad.
But I do, and from the flames in his father’s eyes as he watches me saunter slowly toward him, he enjoys it too.
“Had to make a grand entrance, didn’t you, Red?” He teases as he steps back to let me into his office.
Playing the part of an innocent, I bite my lip and give him a coy shrug.
Ford cuffs the back of my neck, his big palm warm against my skin, and pulls me back to the door, right where every one of his nosy employees can see. “Then give them a show,” he taunts. His smirk tells me he knows precisely how wet he’s making me by demanding I take what I want.
So I do just that. Feeling wicked, I pop up onto my toes and press my mouth to his. The kiss isn’t chaste. No, I slide my tongue across his lips, forcing them to open, and then I revel in the deep, guttural groan I dig from his chest, clawing it out the way I claw at his shoulders to get better leverage on him.
When he pulls back, my red lipstick is smeared across his mouth. With a sharp exhale, he spins us and slams the door. He slaps a palm to the solid wood above my head and drops his forehead to mine. “Holy fuck.” He lets out a raspy laugh that hits me right between the ribs.
“What did you want to talk to me about, Mr. Hall?” I pull back and affect the most demure, hesitant look I can manage.
Ford frowns at me, his forehead knotted in confusion.
“You asked me to come to your office. So is it safe to assume this has something to do with my music?”
His eyes flash then, like he’s finally seeing the script I’ve just handed him. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he takes a step back and plays along. “Right. Take a seat, Lake. I’d like to discuss what’s next for your tour.”
God, he’s so damn good at this. I finally unbutton my black jacket and let it fall open.
His eyes track the way it slides from my body, but he doesn’t stop there. He continues his perusal down my bare legs and gets caught up on my short black skater skirt. Then a slow smile spreads across his face. Like he’s trying his hardest to stay in character, he covers his mouth with his palm and schools his expression.
Without a word, he holds a hand out to the chair on this side of his desk, so I sit, crossing my legs and flexing my ankle, knowing the movement makes it hard for him to ignore all the skin on display.
To my surprise, he takes the seat behind his desk, making it difficult for me to really tease him. Just as he’s settling, there’s a knock on the door. My heart lurches at the sound, and I freeze. I want to yell that we’re busy. I have a plan. But Ford, whose attention is now fixed on his laptop, wipes the lipstick from his face and hollers a “Come in,” without even glancing at me.
A woman with deep auburn hair and a wide smile steps inside. She’s decked out in a black dress that hugs her extraordinary curves. “Hey, darling,” she drawls as she saunters across the office, ignoring me completely.
When she reaches Ford, she angles in close, shamelessly offering him more than a peek of her breasts. His eyes warm, though they don’t dip down to her neckline, and he presses his lips to her cheek.
She palms his cheeks and scans his face, wearing a bright smile. “Been a long time, Ford. But somehow, you’ve only gotten prettier.”
The deep chuckle that usually lights me up inside makes me stabby when it’s aimed at another woman. I want those laugh lines, those sounds, that attention. It all belongs to me for another forty-eight hours, and at the moment, I’m irrationally possessive over them.
Ford shifts so he’s facing me, and she follows his line of sight. “As much as I appreciate that,” he says, holding a hand out, “the real prize is over there.” He shakes his head at my expression, which is probably somewhere between I’m going to murder this bitch and you’re next on my list.
My jealousy is so obvious I might as well have tossed gasoline around the room and threatened to throw a match.
The idea isn’t terrible.
I want to set these feelings ablaze.
“I heard the rumors, but I figured that’s all they were,” the redhead says, adding fuel to the flames already licking up my insides.
I don’t even know who this woman is, yet I’m ready to toss her out the window. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m Lake fucking Paige. Act like it.
“Lake, this is my old friend, Amanda. Mandy, I don’t think Lake needs any introductions.” The amusement in his expression has me settling a bit. She may think it’s all rumors, but I know exactly what we are.
Fire.
An inferno so consuming I’m drawn to it. Entranced. I can’t force myself away, no matter how much it burns. I want to feel every lick of his flame against every inch of my skin.
Fuck being burned. I want his scars.
“Ain’t that the truth, hunny. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She straightens and gives me a genuine smile.
“Mandy is the best tour manager in the business,” Ford explains.
Finally, it hits me. In two days, I’m leaving for the next leg of my tour. I fired my tour manager in an epic way. For the last few shows, Ford took over those duties, but obviously, he can’t follow me around the country.
That thought has me sitting back a little more in my chair, my bouncing leg suddenly motionless, my heart slowing.
Two more days.
And he’s already preparing me for his departure from my life.
It shouldn’t hurt. He’s doing the mature thing, taking care of me when I’m clearly too reckless to care for myself. He’s shown me more respect and affection and concern than any person I’ve slept with in the past. The rest of them have all left without a backward glance. Not a one has shown any concern for how I’ll fare when they’re gone.
I should appreciate that.
I don’t.
“That’s amazing.” I force the Lake Paige smile to my lips. My voice is light and tinny in my own ears.
“She’ll be taking over.” He shifts in his seat, and worry flickers across his face for an instant, but it’s gone before I can dissect its meaning. “You’ll be in good hands.”
Amanda wiggles her fingers in front of her. “The best!”
I jump up, because I was raised to offer handshakes when I’m introduced to someone new. For a minute there, I allowed my jealousy to overpower my manners. “I look forward to working together.”
She rounds the desk, grinning at my outstretched hand, but when she steps in front of me, she pulls me in for a squishy hug. I practically bounce off her breasts with the force and have to stifle a surprised laugh. “In the south, we hug,” she murmurs in my ear. When she pulls away, she turns to Ford. “How about I take Lake to lunch so we can discuss the next leg of the tour?”
Ford, who’s got his elbows on his desk and his fingers steepled in front of him, nods silently.
With that simple move, the last of the breath he’s been stealing from me over the last few days leaves my lungs in a final whoosh.
Disappointment swamps me as Ford stands. “We’ll see you in an hour.”
“Wait, what?” I spin and watch as he ushers her out the door and shuts it firmly behind her.
In the following silence, the click of the lock is deafening and his footsteps are thunderous.
Ford drops into his chair and leans back, his legs spread wide. “Come here, Red.”
It takes effort to even breathe when he uses that tone.
On trembling legs, I move quickly. Two steps from him, I stop, waiting for his next command.
His face screws into an almost disappointed scowl. “What exactly are you wearing?” He tips forward and tugs on the hem of my skirt.
“Excuse me?” His demeanor has me twisting myself into a pretzel to decode his words and his expressions.
Ford grasps me behind the knees and rolls his chair across the hardwood floor. His focus remains on my midsection as he drags his hands up the back of my thighs. When he reaches the swell of my ass, he tilts his head and pierces me with a look. The oxygen between us is snuffed out, leaving me dizzy as he works his fingers inward in slow caresses until he’s pulling at my ass cheeks.
“No panties.” He spits the words, his slate-blue eyes cooling to a gunmetal gray. “You came to a business meeting dressed like this with no panties?”
I suck in a breath and nod.
“I’m the only one who gets to see this bare cunt.” He flips up the fabric of my skirt and drops his face to my center, inhaling my arousal.
Whimpers are the only sounds I’m capable of.
With a lick along my seam, he cranes his neck and rests his chin against my pelvis. “I could have scheduled meetings for you today. Another man could have seen my pussy, Lake. Is that what you wanted?” His hands are still kneading my ass, ramping up my pleasure.
“No. Sorry. That’s not—this is only for you, Mr. Hall.” My words are faltering, but my difficulty turns the cold gray of his irises molten.
“For me?” He regards me again, as if he’s considering that thought, before he nudges his way between my legs and licks me like it’s his job. Like he was born to drag my pleasure out for days, not to make me come, because he’s not working me over hard enough for that. There’s no sucking; just licking slowly, maybe for his own gratification.
“Yes, for you,” I pant, grasping his hair and grinding my pelvis against his chin. I need friction, need him to give me more.
He pulls back, denying me. “Then bend over and show me you’re mine.”
“Fuck yes,” I murmur, practically throwing myself on top of his desk.
Ford remains seated in his chair, spreading his legs wider and pulling me back so that my feet are touching the floor. In this position, my ass is in the air and my breasts are flattened against the papers on his desk. He crowds my space, his chest pressed against my back, and runs his fingers over the track pad on his laptop until an image of us appears on the screen.
“You’re recording us?” I ask, my pulse skittering with a mix of fear and excitement.
A little red dot appears with a series of numbers beside it. “That a problem?”
Is it a problem? It should be. I should tell him to turn it off. Fucking my ex’s father is one thing. A sex tape to go with it? That’s insanity.
But the thought only adds to the slickness between my legs.
“Not a problem, sir.”
The rumble of amusement that works its way up his chest sends a matching shudder up my spine. Gently, he presses a soft kiss against my hypersensitive skin and pushes my hair over one shoulder so there’s no denying my identity.
I study the image. The woman who stares back is a stranger.
My face has been on every screen in America. Hundreds of billboards and thousands of magazine covers. Yet I don’t recognize this woman at all. She’s sexy and desperate. And with Ford clad in a suit, sitting behind me, I’ve been reduced to a puddle of need.
“Don’t take your eyes off that screen, Red. I’m going to eat this pussy now.”
He spreads me with both hands and then licks me once from front to back. With a groan, he spears me with his tongue. Then he alternates between sucking and licking while I can do nothing but babble incoherently.
I’m coming before I have a chance to take a full breath, arching and crying out for him.
“So fucking good,” he murmurs as he sits up and looks into the camera, his eyes meeting mine through the screen. “I can’t wait to have this ass.”
“Yes. Please,” I practically beg. Though I’ve come already, I need so much more. I need his cock to fill my every hole. I’m practically sobbing as I wiggle my ass, enticing him into moving quicker.
Ford licks between my cheeks, then uses a thumb to spread my wetness, toying with my clit, then dipping inside me before working his way back to my ass. Over and over, he does it, until I’m writhing and begging and boneless. When I’m thoroughly coated in my own arousal, he slowly fucks me with his finger.
“More,” I beg.
Beside me, a drawer hisses open, then there’s the sound of a condom wrapper being torn. Still pressed flat against his desk, I watch his movements on the screen. Watch as he unbuckles his belt and drops his pants to his ankles without care. His sole focus is on me as he gets ready to sheath himself. The goddamn smirk he directs at me makes my heart twist.
“I’m on birth control,” I say quickly.
Ford pauses his movements and takes a heavy breath. “You want me to fuck you bare?”
“Y-yes,” I stutter out. Then I meet his gaze, knowing he’ll want me to demand it, not beg. “I want to feel every inch of you, Ford. No condom.”
His lips twitch, but he stifles the smile that almost peeks out. “Still not giving you this cock in your ass, Red. Not yet. You need to be trained. Need to remember who you belong to before I give it to you.”
His dirty words leave me writhing and racking my lust-addled brain for ways I can please him into fucking my ass. “I’ll be good,” I promise.
The loud slap registers before the bite of pain when his palm meets my ass. “You will, Red.” He soothes my tender flesh. “You’re gonna be good for me and take my bare cock in this cunt. You’re gonna be dripping for me and begging for it until tonight. Then, maybe if you make me proud, I’ll fuck this tight little virgin ass. You want that?”
I nod against the desk. “Yes. Please fuck me. Please.” I rock back, desperate to be closer, but Ford holds me in place with one hand on my hip. Then he presses inside me with a curse, and the heat of him without the barrier of a condom breaks me. “So fucking good, Red. So warm, so fucking perfect. The best I’ve ever had.”
That confession only makes me more eager. I’m a competitive person by nature, so the praise is like catnip. It leaves me wanting to give him more.
He thrusts until he’s fully seated, then angles over me and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “I’ll never get enough of you.” His words are gentle and so quiet it’s unlikely the microphone picked them up. This is just for me. For us.
“Are you ready, baby?”
When I nod, he pulls back, then slams into me. He does it again and again, picking up the pace until his thrusts are brutal. Exactly how I like them. I’m clenching down on him as he hits my G-spot over and over. Then I shatter a thousand times, our sounds and murmured words a blur lost in the abyss of ecstasy.
Without slowing, he leans to one side and pulls something from his desk drawer. Then he’s groaning and coming in hot spurts, pulsing aftershocks from my own orgasm teasing us both. I’m just about boneless when he pulls out and slides a finger inside me. I shudder on contact, overly sensitive, but relax again as he withdraws and drags the mixture of his release and mine to my ass and fingers me slowly again.
“Take a deep breath, baby,” he warns, his expression tender on screen.
I obey, pulling in a lungful of air. As I release it, I feel the pinch of cool metal pressing inside. He hums in approval as he stares at the object he just put there.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt. Just a bit of pressure.
“Fuck, Red, I can’t tell you how good you look wearing a diamond in your ass.”
