Chapter 32 Desiree Dixon

I’m Fucking Addicted to You

“I have some news,” I announce as I walk into the kitchen. My parents are all dressed up and waiting for me, and they’re both elegant ahead of the SmartSports black-tie event tonight celebrating community partnerships and recognizing athletes and coaches.

I tuck my black handbag under my arm, and my mom smiles broadly.

“You look beautiful, darling girl,” she says.

“Thank you. As do you.”

She curtsies formally, and we both laugh. I love having an easygoing relationship with her, and it’s going to be hard to keep the fact that I’m falling for Asher to myself since I tell her virtually everything.

“What’s the news?” my dad asks.

I draw in a deep breath. “I’ve decided to take Erin’s offer. I’m going to be moving to Vegas.”

“Oh!” My mom squeals, and she holds a hand up to her mouth before she rushes over to pull me into a hug. “Oh, I’m so happy!”

I hear the emotion in her voice, and I chide her. “Don’t cry, Mom. You’ll mess up your gorgeous makeup.”

She laughs as she pulls back, and she wipes her eyes. “You’re right.” She fans her face as she pulls it together, and my dad hugs me next.

He kisses the top of my head. “I’m so proud of you, Desi. You’re a superstar, and you’re going to blow Vegas away.”

I preen under his praise, and I have to admit, I’m excited to see what the future holds for me here in Vegas.

The car arrives to take us to tonight’s event, and I can’t help but wish I had a date tonight. I wish Asher could rest his hand on my knee, and we could walk arm-in-arm up to the bar, and we could dance and laugh the night away together.

It’s only the beginning for us, and someday I think my dad will understand. Just maybe not while Asher’s working to fix his reputation while earning the respect of everyone in his locker room—coaching staff included.

I feel like I’ve met everyone on the Vegas Aces staff at this point, and when my dad starts talking to Steve and my mom and Barb get to talking, I excuse myself to the bar.

“Dirty martini,” I order.

Just then, a voice behind me adds, “Extra dirty.”

I spin around and find myself face-to-face with Asher Nash in a red and black camouflage suit, looking like an absolute snack .

What are you doing here? seems like a stupid question since this event is celebrating athletes in the community. I knew he had an event tonight, but I didn’t know it was the same one I’d be attending.

“Make it two,” he says, and he shoots me a wink as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Filthy,” I murmur.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he says quietly as the bartender turns away to make our drinks. “But I’m glad.”

I smile. “So am I.”

“Jesus, you look hot in that dress,” he murmurs as he looks away from me, trying to make it look from afar like we’re not even having a conversation.

“Even hotter out of it.” I raise a challenging brow.

His eyes return to me, heated as always. “Show me.”

“Right here?” I tuck some of my hair behind my ear, and he groans a little. Something about my hair seems to do it for him.

He glances around the room as if he’s looking for a place for us to go. “The patio?” he suggests.

“I haven’t been out there yet.”

“There are also some executive meeting rooms near the bathrooms that looked like they weren’t in use.”

“You scoped the place out?” I ask.

He chuckles. “No, my brother pointed them out to me, actually. He was teasing me, but joke’s on him.” He pauses. “Shit,” he mumbles under his breath.

I’m about to ask him why he cursed when I spot Miles Hudson sauntering over.

“Nash,” he says, clapping Asher on the back. “What are you having?”

“Two dirty martinis, extra dirty,” the bartender says, and I realize the innuendo as Asher’s eyes widen a bit.

“Oh, those are mine,” I say smoothly, and I pick them both up and head off in the direction of my parents, chugging down one on the way.

Why does it suddenly feel like this is going to be a long night?

And how many of these events can I do where I’m secretly seeing Asher and we pretend we don’t even know each other?

It’s going to get harder before it gets easier, that’s for sure.

After my second dirty martini, I head to the restroom. It’s quiet in this hallway as we’re the only event on a Tuesday evening in this huge events center, and when I exit the bathroom, I spot a lone figure standing in the hallway leaning against the wall and apparently waiting for me.

He pushes off the wall with his heel and stalks down the hall toward me, a little menacing, a little aggressive, and very, very hot.

He stops short of me, and he reaches out and lightly grips my throat. He guides me back until I bump into the wall, and his lips move immediately to mine.

I wrap my arms around him, knowing full well that anyone could walk down this hallway at any time, and maybe the secrecy of it all is part of what makes it so hot with him.

I tend to think that has nothing to do with it at all, though.

He bucks his hips against me, and I can feel how needy he is. How much he wants this…wants me .

“Christ, Des,” he murmurs as he pulls away from my mouth. “I can’t stay away from you.” His lips find my neck, and he kisses his way back up to my mouth before he pulls back. “I’m fucking addicted to you.”

My only response is to move my hungry mouth back to his.

“We can’t do this out here,” he says, some semblance of responsibility falling back over him, which is lucky because mine up and left the premises.

He thrusts his hips to mine again, and then he grabs my hand and leads me to those executive meeting rooms he mentioned earlier.

He tries the first door, and it’s locked. The second, however, is open.

He looks both ways before he slips inside one, yanking me in behind him, and he has me pressed against the wall with his mouth on mine and his hand fumbling with the bottom of my dress in a near instant. He shoves my panties aside and slides a finger into me, and I whimper at the feel of his hands back on my body as I grip onto his upper arms, my head rolling back and my eyes closing as I bite my lip to try to move the sensation somewhere else on my body so I don’t start to come too soon.

I don’t want to. I want to live in this moment a little longer.

His mouth is still on mine, and he groans as he feels how wet I am. Without any sort of warning whatsoever, he drops to his knees, tosses my leg over his shoulder, and yanks my panties harder to the side before he dives face first into my pussy.

He moans as he tastes me, and I lean back against the wall as I wrap my hands around his head, pulling him into me as I ride his face. God, he feels good. His scruff tickles my thighs as he sucks on my clit, lighting the fuse that’s about to lead to the explosion of fireworks.

It doesn’t take long. That man can use the hell out of his mouth, and as he slides his long finger back inside me, I detonate into a million tiny pieces. The one knee I’m balancing on nearly buckles as I start to come, and I hold onto his head as my leg that’s tossed over his shoulder clings onto him. He stays right where he is as he guides me through an intense, brutal release, and when the tremors of pleasure start to fade into warmth, he finally gently lowers my leg from his shoulder and straightens to a stand, careful to continue holding me up.

Once he’s fully at a stand, he reaches behind my knees and pulls me literally into his arms, carrying me over to the conference table and depositing me on the end of it. He reaches under my dress, bunching it up around my waist, and slides my panties down my legs. “Don’t need these,” he mutters, tossing them to the floor, and then he fumbles with his belt buckle.

He pulls out that gorgeous cock of his, stroking it a few times before he gazes at my darkened eyes. “How has it only been twenty-four hours since the last time I fucked you? It feels like it’s been forever.”

He leans over me, and his mouth collides with mine before I get a chance to agree.

It’s a messy kiss, the first signal that he’s falling apart with need. He pulls back, yanks me down toward the end of the table, and grips his cock, sliding it through me and jerking it against my sensitive clit a few times.

I moan at the feel of him, my eyes hot on him as I watch his handsome face. He’s looking down at the spot where our bodies are about to join, his dark lashes fanned out high on those strong cheekbones.

He exudes this animal magnetism, this charm, and to know that I’m the one who caught his attention makes me feel self-assured and proud as fuck.

He pushes into me, and his eyes flick up to mine. “Fuck, yes, Des. You’re so hot and tight for me.”

He clenches his jaw but parts his lips as a hot determination passes through his eyes, and he growls as he starts to move inside me with nothing between us for the second time.

He leans forward and tucks some of my hair behind my ear, a tender caress in an otherwise carnal act. He drives into me harder and harder, picking up the pace like he needs to cross the finish line in order to breathe again. He leans all the way down and kisses my neck before stretching to find my mouth.

He grunts and groans as his tongue batters mine, the tang of my own pussy still on his tongue, and I inexplicably feel my second release building.

He’ll return to the ballroom where tonight’s event is taking place and talk to other players—maybe even his coaches—with my scent hot on his tongue. It’s all sorts of forbidden and wrong, and the mere thought pushes me into a pulsing, quaking climax.

My body clenches tightly over his as I start to come. “That’s my good girl,” he grunts. “Come all over my cock. Squeeze it harder, baby.”

God, his words are hot as I come all over him, my body fighting to thrash as his body holds me still. He pushes up off of me and hammers into me a few times, bracing himself by placing his hands on my tits where my dress is still in place.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says over and over as he lets go inside me this time, not bothering to pull out.

I feel a sense of heat as he continues pumping into me, his semen jetting into me. I moan at the feel of it. There’s something insanely hot about knowing I did this to him.

He slows his thrusts before he stops, holding still inside me a few beats, and then he reaches beside us to a box of tissues I hadn’t noticed. He pulls out of me, careful to catch anything that slips out of me with the tissue before he discards it in the trash. I sit up, and he tucks himself back into his slacks then helps slip my panties back on.

I stand to shift them back into place, and then I collapse into one of the chairs around the table, completely spent and not sure how the hell I’m supposed to walk back to the ballroom as if I didn’t just get the hell railed out of me in executive meeting room B.