Page 16 of Bastard In A Suit

Chapter 6

I flingopen the bathroom door, confident and calm. I can do this. My chin lifts, spine stiffens. I turn into the hall and—

WHOP!

I slam right into Duke’s rock-hard chest. Disoriented, I glance up to find him staring at me with an expression that makes my knees buckle. His voice is coarse and heady. “Come,” he commands, and wraps his large hand around my wrist. With a tug, he draws me toward him and my body comes to life.

Duke drags me through an exit door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY and slams me up against a shelving unit. The metal digs into my back but I’m too shocked to cry out. His hands wrap around my wrists and in one smooth motion, I’m pinned against the unit. He leans in close, the earthy scent of his cologne hovering under my nose.

“You’re driving me insane,” he says, gruffly.

The tone of his voice slides under my skin and in an instant, I’m wet. My head starts to spin. “Mr. Kingston, I—”

His mouth drifts along my throat and up my jawline. “This dress.” His groan shudders across my skin. “What did you think would happen.”

Not this. God, not this. Not even in my most intimate fantasies could I have imagined this.

“I’m not like that,” I say, humiliated. Scared. My voice has about as much strength as a muted squeak. “I just wanted you to give the product another chance.”

Duke pushes his groin up against me, his cock, thick and hard, presses against my bare thigh. He tightens his grip on my wrists. “This isn’t what you want?”

This is exactly what I want, I think, but can’t bring myself to admit out loud.

My body aches with longing, with the need to feel his hands on me.

His lips graze my ear lobe. A small whimper escapes from somewhere deep in my throat. My chest heaves.

“Tell me you want me.”

My throat clogs up.

“Say it,” he says, now with more force.

His tongue flicks behind my ear and I feel myself go weak. Yes, God yes. “I want you,” I manage to rasp out.

Duke’s mouth crashes into mine. He parts my lips with his tongue. I open up to him, eager, desperate.

Hold back, Hailey.The rational part of my brain tries to reason with me. It’s no use. Common sense is cast aside. It’s like I’m trapped under some kind of spell. Completely lost.

He pulls back, and I’m shocked by the sudden sense of loss.

“Do you want more?” he says.

I nod.

Mischief dances behind his pupils. “What do you want more, Hailey? This—or for me to listen to your pitch? Choose. You only get one or the other.”

God help me, the choice isn’t even close. My panties are soaked. I’m quivering under his touch. A selfish need to be ravished by this man pushes aside my guilt, ignores the incessant tap, tap, tap of on my conscience. Since the moment I laid eyes on Duke Kingston, I’ve thought of little else.

“You,” I say, breathless. “I choose you. More of you.”

His mouth plunders mine.

Our tongues tangle while his body grinds against me. I’m desperate to touch him, to run my hands over the rigid lines of his muscles. His grip on my wrists tightens.

I close my eyes, submitting to his dominance. My body aches so badly I can hardly breathe. He lets go of my wrists, but before I can capitalize on my freedom, he grabs a chord of rope from the shelf behind me and uses it to tie them behind my back.

He does it so quickly and efficiently that you’d think he was a magician.