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“This basement is set up for this part of the business. Besides, this building isn’t watched like so many others.”
I skipped over to the door, and he stopped.
“Fucking hell, you need some clothes. Perhaps we go upstairs and find something that will cover your ass.”
He wasn’t asking me. His hand was on my elbow, and he was doing the best he could to move me where he wanted me to go. I, however, wasn’t putting up with it.
Instead, I turned, and since he expected me to fight him, his body nearly slammed into me. Both his hands grabbed onto my arms to keep me from landing on my ass on the floor. It was a sweet gesture since I was certain that could be cold.
“What are you doing now?” he asked.
I didn’t have a lot of negotiation skills. But what I did have was the best debutant training a private education could buy. I also had figured out what parts of it actually got me what I wanted.
“I wasn’t up to anything, Roman. You’re my fiancé. I’ll do whatever you say. If you want to waste time getting me more clothing when we both know just how hot this gets me and the fact he will just be dead anyway. That’s fine.”
The muscle in his cheek quirked as I stared up into his face.
“You are full of shit. But fucking hell if you don’t have some kind of point.”
He released my arm and started to unbutton his shirt.
“Are we having a striptease now?” I licked my lips and let my tongue press against my upper front teeth, running it back and forth because damn it, I wouldn’t ever get enough of Roman Demarco naked.
“No. Not a striptease. Put this on. It’s longer than the jacket. Then put the jacket on for good measure.”
I took the shirt as he handed it over and started to pull off his suit coat. His poker face was good, but the lust in his eyes was always so easy to read.
“Where’s the camera? So I can give them a show.”
He gave me a slow headshake.
“The cameras stop one flight up. We can see who is coming and going. There is no need to have a record of who goes in and out of this room.”
I dropped the coat and slipped on the shirt, buttoning up and stopping as I hit the third button from the top.
“Bummer,” I said and reached for the jacket.
“Button the damn shirt all the way up.”
I looked at him and then dropped the jacket. As I kept his gaze focused on me, I grabbed the tails of the shirt and started to tie them around my waist.
“What the ever-loving fuck are you doing?”
I thought I’d seen his reflexes before, but I’d been so wrong. I didn’t even have time to protest as he grabbed my hands and pulled them away, the faux knot falling before I could tighten it.
“I swear to God, Emilee, your cunt better stay covered. You. This.”
He reached down under the shirt and pressed his hand against my pussy, his touch much harder than his warning warranted.
“Is mine.”
He used the size of his body to force me to press my back into the wall as he slid a finger down my slit. His touch was rough as he pressed the heel of his hand against my clit and his finger teased at my entrance.
“Don’t test me, Butterfly. I think we both know I don’t fucking lie.”
I swallowed as he ran his finger around my entrance, teasing me.
“So wet for me.”
