Page 16 of Wrecked By a Devil

This time, in one swift motion, Riley takes the shirt off, revealing a pink bra underneath. My throat tightens when she proceeds to unzip her shorts and then pushes them off her hips with ease.

She’s even more gorgeous in her underwear, the perfectly toned body surrounding me and playing with me without ever getting near enough for me to touch her.

“You like this?” Her voice is soft when she speaks, inviting me in, as her hands reach at the back, ready to take off her bra.

“Go on, take it off,” I move uncomfortably on the sofa, trying to find the right seating position.

With a smirk on her face, she drops the bra to the floor.

My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache. I don’t think, instead I reach out to hook my finger into the string of her panties and to drag her body flush against mine.

Instead of flinching, she steps back––just an inch, enough to tease––and reaches into her bag. My muscles coil, a lethal instinct instantly flaring at the sudden movement. I could pinher to the floor before she even clears her zipper. But I stay still, tracking every move, as she pulls out a long, silk scarf.

The fabric catches the dim light of the office as she steps back into my space. The scent of sweet vanilla hits me first, completely intoxicating, wrapping around my senses and messing with my head in a way I don’t even want to acknowledge.

She leans over me and everything else in the room vanishes. Her full, perky breasts hover inches from my face, the soft curve shifting with every breath she takes. They are a cruel, breathless torture, close enough for me to feel the radiating warmth of her skin. They’re practically begging for my hands, my mouth, anything to break the agonizing space between us. Before I can recover enough to wrap my hands around her waist, she uses my distraction against me and wraps the silk around my wrists, dragging my hands together.

Every dominant impulse in my blood screams to rip the fabric apart and show her exactly who owns this room. But the sheer audacity of her stops her. I let her tie the knot as I watch the fierce spark in her eyes.

“No touching,” She whispers against my ear, her warm breath sending a sharp, electric jolt down my spine.

As she pulls away to continue the dance, her gaze drops, pausing on my erection. I don’t even bother hiding it, I want her to see it. She begins to move again, a slow, almost agonizing sway, keeping herself just out of arm’s reach but the heat radiating offher bare skin keeps washing over me. Every snap of her hips, every brush of her thighs against the air, feels almost physical.

The silk cuts into my wrists as I reflexively tighten my fists, the friction only making the ache in my groin more punishing.

“Come closer,” I command her, my voice rough and gravelly. She obeys, stepping into the narrow V of my thighs. “Are you having fun?”

For a short second, she doesn’t speak. Instead, she just stands there looking at me with raw, fierce intensity that catches me completely off guard. Her chest heaves, her ribs expanding as she takes a shallow breath.

“Yes…”

Neither of us is focused on the dance anymore and she’s close enough that if I were to move just a little, our lips would inevitably clash against each other. Her smell is sweet.

What if I…

“You can leave now,” I clear my throat and start untying my hands. “That was good enough.”

“Allow me,” she helps me out with the scarf and then nervously pushes it back into her bag.

I try not to look at her as she’s putting her clothes back on.

“Thank you.”

With that, she leaves. The moment the door clicks shut behind her, the silence in the office is suffocating. I can hear the sound of her boots fading as she’s walking down the corridor. The air still smells like her, the sweet vanilla scent mixed with the sharp edge of my own arousal. I look down at my lap.

Fuck.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Riley

My heart is pounding as I make my way down the never-ending corridor. I don’t remember it being this long when I was leaving the office yesterday. Maybe it’s the fact that I didn’t have time to put on my bra and instead just shoved it into my bag and rushed outside. Or the lingering musky smell still filling all my senses. But when I finally step outside and walk past the bar, a breath I didn’t realize I was holding escapes me.

“Riley?” A familiar voice calls after me. I turn around to see Cohen behind the bar with a friendly smile on his face.

“Hey,” I force myself to smile. “Is Mia still around?” It’s foolish for me to assume he knows Mia. It’s a miracle he remembers me after just one short conversation. We’re the new girls after all.

“You just missed her,” he puts down the glass he’s been cleaning.