Page 47 of Underground Prince

“Your hair,” he repeated. His fingers grazed across my neck again and I quelled the shiver threatening to surface.

“Why?”

He wasn’t annoyed by my question and probably expected it. “You’ll see.”

Up for anything, I dragged my hair back and wound it into a haphazard bun at the nape of my neck, securing it with a hair tie I had around my wrist.

“And you’ll have to wear this.”

He reached over into the passenger seat by the driver, revealing black folds, but everything looked black in this light.

“What’s that?”

“An outfit,” he answered. “Yours.”

“Okay,” I said, taking the folded fabric. It felt soft and expensive as I settled it on my lap.

“Now.”

I glanced sideways at him. “Come again?”

“Shyness? I didn’t expect that from you.”

“You do know how to call me into action, don’t you?” I said.

“By goading you with the opposite? Of course.”

“Was that a joke?” I dared to poke him. “Did Sax just make a funny?”

“Get dressed,” he said, but I could see his half-smile in the passenger window.

I mumbled my consent, but those beers were sloshing inside me, along with my meager kathi roll for dinner. Rebellion came easily sober and fantastically when tipsy. And so I unbuckled, sliding out of my light jacket and swiveling so I was facing him. I hooked my t-shirt and pulled it over my head.

Theo didn’t move an inch, not his body, not his head, but his eyes could be seen on the window, and they were locked on me.

Grinning and sucking my belly in, I leaned back, arched up, and unbuttoned my jeans. A song was playing on the radio, slow and pulsing. The driver was faceless, and I had to remind myself he was there, that I was in public, because all I could think of was him. He was next to me, rigid and restrained, and I went hot at the thought of breaking his control.

I lifted my knees, pulling off my pants, and there I was, in my lingerie beside a fully-suited man in the dark, and I’d never felt sexier.

I caught my lower lip with my teeth to prevent another smirk and brought both thumbs under the thin black straps of my underwear.

His hand on my thigh was a shock, cool compared to the blood pumping underneath my skin. His fingers were so close to my core that if I moved, flinched, inched just a little, he’d be there.

It was quiet, so breathless, but it escaped before I could think to stop it. A soft, wanting sigh.

His fingers clenched.

Theo’s middle finger grazed me and I gasped, still so soft only he could hear, but it was enough.

“You can keep it on,” he said, tight like it pained him.

He moved his hand away, and I felt the loss like a limb. The skin he’d touched was on fire.

I could barely sit in this car anymore without groaning over each bump in the road. I reached between us and dressed in the outfit he chose, fast, because I couldn’t remain in my underwear any longer without springing on him.

“Huh,” I said, looking down at myself once I’d finished changing. “Not what I expected.”

I was dressed in what looked like tapered black pants and the softest black cashmere sweater that had ever touched upon my skin.

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