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I’m high on adrenaline when I get back to the city in time for tonight’s meeting. But Emma is chewing on her bottom lip as we enter the penthouse. Instead of looking excited or nervous with anticipation for the night ahead of us, the way she did before, she seems… complacent. Resigned. Like she’s just here to work.
Then again, I suppose to her, thisiswork.
I’m suddenly not sure how I feel about that.
My hands clench as I walk toward the bar. “Drink?”
She blinks at me, her face still devoid of any genuine interest. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Her jaw flexes and the vein in her forehead thrums softly. “Tomorrow’s a workday.”
“I’ll put in a good word with your boss,” I drawl sarcastically as I pour the drink anyway.
She accepts it hesitantly, her gaze sliding over to the windows. Her shoulders are tense. It’s as if she’s been holding her breath for far too long and she’s afraid to start inhaling again. We stand there in silence for a while, but it doesn’t seem to matter how many sips of her drink she takes—she’s still stiff as a board.
A gentleman would excuse her tonight. Send her home early so that she can get a good night’s sleep.
Too bad I’m the farthest fucking thing from a gentleman.
“It is beautiful up here,” she observes. “So quiet.”
I take the half-empty glass out of her hand and set it down on the marble side table next to the sofa. “It won’t be for long.”
She blushes. It reminds me of the first night we spent together. She was shy and unsure then, too, constantly blushing and glancing away from me to focus on the twinkling city lights.
But this isn’t actual shyness holding her back. Is it discomfort, maybe? Wariness? Uncertainty? I’ve been so focused on making sure she doesn’t get too close to me that it had never even occurred to me that she might be worried about the same damn thing.
For tonight, though, I want to make her forget everything. Her problems, her brother-in-law, her dead sister. Most of all, her own inhibitions. I want to chip away at the walls she’s built around herself until she can’t feel anything but pleasure.
I have a plan for exactly how to do that, too: I’m gonna give her so many orgasms that she’ll forget her own name and only scream mine.
I glance down below my belt. Just like that, I’ve worked myself into the hardest erection of my life.
“Come here,” I growl.
She turns to me and softly pads her bare feet across the floor, what little distance there is between us. She stops a few inches away. Still too far for my liking.
“Come here,” I repeat, doing my best to resist the playful smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Even in her current state, she’s still so deliciously stubborn.
She takes another quarter-step forward. My gaze drops to her collarbone, then to the dip of her neckline. She’s wearing a jade-green blouse today and it’s doing wonders for those blue eyes of hers.
I caress the back of my hand along her jaw. Then down to the buttons of her blouse. She sucks in a breath and that delicate pink blush spreads to the tops of her breasts.
I tilt her chin up with my other hand to make sure she looks me in the eyes. I want her full attention and I’m going to get it one way or another.
Starting with ripping her blouse open.
Buttons scatter across the floor, not that I give a shit. I’ll buy her a new shirt if I have to, as long as she keeps looking at me like she is now while I toss her scrap of a shirt aside.
She’sdefinitelynot tired anymore.
I pull her even closer to me until there’s no space at all between us. I love the way she gasps when I manhandle her. When I smooth my hands up along the curve of her back, she shivers and presses herself into me.
Goddamn, her plump lips are so tempting. I can practically taste her as I flick the clasps of her bra open and let the straps slide down her arms until it falls to the floor.
I turn her around and unzip the skirt she’s wearing, and again, I’m tempted to devour her creamy skin, starting with the curve of her neck. But I’m quickly distracted by the other curves of her body. She’s wearing panties in the same shade of green as her blouse. They’re modest, nothing skimpy, but for whatever reason, that’s ten times hotter than if she’d been wearing the skinniest dental floss thong known to man.
