Beck drew in a breath. Sure, from the beginning he knew Clarissa was attractive, but now a primal need pulled him to her like he had no saying in the matter. Damn it.

She undid his zipper, and he pulled his boxers and pants down his knee. She slid off the counter top and touched him, her warm palm rubbing his pulsating dick. “Wow,” she said.

He bit back a smile. He always enjoyed that type of reaction, but the blend of surprise and hunger in her hazel eyes only made his cock grow bigger. She kneeled in front of him, and regarded his cock with a fascination he found endearing.

“You like what you see?” And touch?

She stared up at him, and a shade of red colored her cheeks. “Yes, though I have no idea how this will fit inside me.”

He grinned. “Let’s start with your mouth… we’ll deal with your tight, virgin pussy later.”

She licked him, the tip of her tongue searing his underside veins, which were about to pop. God… She tentatively swirled her tongue up and down his rod, and he threw his head back, too aroused to keep focus. If he kept looking at her eyes, at her bow shaped lips ravishing him like he were some sort of ancient god, he’d come in her mouth.

She brought it inside her mouth, and when he experienced that hot warmth, he groaned. She didn’t fit all of him, but that was expected.

“Touch me while you suck me,” he said.

She palmed him and soon, her hand and mouth worked in tandem, going in the same direction. Upward and down. His gut clenched, and he curled his fingers into a ball. Control would slip away soon, if he didn’t do anything.

“Clarissa.” Her name fled from his mouth.

“Yeah? This is fun,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Do you feel anything when I do this?” She cupped his balls.

Precum bubbled at the tip of his cock. Did he! Beck growled. Despite her virgin status, Clarissa was no innocent. She’d manipulated him into a marriage he most certainly didn’t want. He should take her virginity out of spite… yet it’d happen out of a maddening desire that wiped out any rationality.

Sex would only make their already complicated situation, disastrous. His balls felt tight and achy in her hand. He had to wrestle to keep upright, a weakness behind his knees threatening to take him down. Weakness for her.

“I enjoy doing this,” she said, lapping her pink tongue at the tip of his cock. “You taste good. Different than what I expected.”

A crazy rush of blood fled to his cock. “Get up, otherwise there’s a lot more of me for you to taste soon.”

She winked at him. “I don’t mind.”

She didn’t mind? “You’re trouble, Clarissa Garubo. And I usually don’t fuck with trouble… but I sure want to fuck you until you pass out on my cock.”

He lifted her to the countertop again. A wicked part of him reveled in the image of her swallowing his seed, tasting his cum with the same eagerness she sucked him off. Then again, he had to bury himself inside her, to stretch her walls, to pump into her.

Then, it dawned on him. “I don’t have any condoms with me,” he said, cursing in a low voice. Shit. He didn’t carry condoms regularly, unless he went on a date or to a nightclub. The trip to Vegas was supposed to be work only, so he hadn’t considered bringing protection. Ah, the irony.

She nodded, disappointment softening her features. “Really?”

He sighed. “Really. Unless I go buy some downstairs.”

Clarissa smiled. “Yes. Please.”

He put his achy, still-hard rod in his pants. “Are you sure about this? Having sex with me? You don’t have to do anything just because you think I’m mad.”

“I want you, Beck. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. My pussy is pulsing… my breasts are throbbing…”

He snatched her into his arms, and their mouths molded together. She wrapped herself around him again, and he had to use every ounce of determination not to slam into her sweet cunt right and there, without any protection. When he managed to disengage from her, they both breathed heavily, his heart pounded every beat. “I’ll go get the condoms.”

The elevator door opened with a bing, and Beck exited into the lobby. A swarm of people crossed his path, a bunch of high-rolling tourists discussing what show to watch. The only show Beck hoped to watch entailed a very naked Clarissa and him, in a large bed.

Excitement moved through him, and he amped his pace. When had it been the last time he’d wanted to make love with this much urgency? He’d dated a very special woman—a gifted lawyer named Nancy— for two years. He’d entertained the idea of marrying her, but something inside pulled him back. He wasn’t ready to commit unless he knew for sure it’d be permanent. He never wished to have multiple marriages, like his father.

Oh, the irony…

Right now, he focused on screwing her. Sure, in the long run intimacy with Clarissa could lead him into trouble. For the time being, he needed the distraction to forget about how much like his father he’d really become—enough to agree to a superficial marriage only to benefit his career.

Across the large lobby, he saw the convenience store. Yes. He’d buy the condoms and to the hell with self-doubt and problems. Why not take advantage of his newly acquired husband duties?

“Beck,” said a male voice behind him. Beck balked, recognizing Garubo’s raspy baritone even before he turned around and faced him.

“Yes,” he said.

The two bodyguards walked behind Garubo. Beck imagined those two cage fighters in suits had seen a lot.

“I wanted to talk to you alone. Let’s go grab a drink,” Garubo said, gesturing to the swanky bar to the right.

“I’d love to, but Clarissa is waiting for me. ,” Beck said, I have to go back upstairs and screw your daughter silly. He motioned to keep on walking, but Garubo pat his back and angled closer.

“This will be quick. I just need to talk to my new son-in-law, and didn’t want to do so in front of Clarissa.”

“Sure. Just a drink,” Beck said.

Just a drink.

He didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart with Garubo, but couldn’t brush him off easily. At the same time, he still coveted his account to nail the partnership deal, Beck didn’t want to know anything about Garubo’s other businesses. The less he knew about those, the better.

They sat on a corner booth, on a side away from most people. Garubo had quickly surpassed the folks waiting to enter. A quick chat with the hostess and his VIP seating arrangement had materialized. Did they admire or fear him? Probably, a bit of both.

After they ordered their drinks, Garubo made a hand gesture, and his bodyguards waited at the entrance.

“I have to say today went much differently than what I had expected,” Garubo started.

You and me both. “I understand,” Beck said. He toyed with the idea of calling their suite to tell Clarissa he was chatting with her father, but he didn’t want to worry her. What if she decided to join them? Best to get this awkward drink over with.

“You know… Clarissa looks a lot like her mother. So much so, that after Bianca’s death I had a hard time looking at her.”

Garubo frowned, and then smoothed his hand on his slick dark hair. Too dark for his age, without a trace of grey.

“Because my wife meant a lot to me,” Garubo said, angling closer.

Beck gave him a slow nod. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t take marriage lightly, Beck. I never did and never will. People get hitched then they give up on each other after the first hiccup,” Garubo said, his eyes remote like he talked about an event much closer to him than just a vague comment.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work out.”

Garubo nodded. “I know your father divorced four times. I had my team research you when I suggested you drive my daughter to Vegas,” he said, mentioning their chat the previous week, when Beck had attempted to bring his business to his firm. That meeting had certainly gone different than Beck had imagined—Garubo received a phone call from his daughter, and asked Beck if he’d fly to NY to drive her back because she hated flying.

“I’m not proud of my father’s mistakes,” he said truthfully. Beck touched his neck, even though he wore an open collar shirt. Garubo’s probe made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not my father,” he said with the confidence of a person who believed it.

Garubo smiled. “Good,” he said, then the smile disappeared. “Because if you hurt my daughter in any way, you’re finito.”

Finito. Got it. “Mr. Garubo, with all due respect— he said, adamant on telling him he accepted no threats.

“Hello.” The busty waitress returned with their drinks, alleviating some of the tension between them.

Beck lifted his tumbler to his mouth, and savored the smoky scotch rolling down his throat. “Mr. Garubo, I know this is all a surprise to you, and I appreciate your support. But I won’t deal with threats. I’ve married your daughter and I intend on making her happy. She’s the one who’ll judge my efforts. Not you,” he said evenly.

Garubo stared at him squared in the eye. “Fair enough. I also know you might make partner in your firm if you get my account.”

“Honestly, sir, you knew from the beginning this could be a possibility—wasn’t it why you asked me personally to drive your daughter to Vegas? To make up your mind?”

“Of course.” Garubo sat back on his chair, taking his glass with him. “I have to trust someone to represent my affairs—especially my legal affairs. The businesses your firm would represent come from my wife’s side of the family. And I swore to her I’d always keep those according to the law.”

“A remarkable decision.”

“Which is why before I give you my business, I’m willing to trust you with something much more valuable that shows how much your being a new family member means… a family secret.”