Page 39 of Demons

I took a drink from the glass, then turned around and almost dropped it. Instead of the glass shattering on the floor at my feet, Thatcher’s hand wrapped around it as I stared up at him with my heart now racing in my chest. I hadn’t heard him walk out of his room, much less move in so close behind me.

“You scared me,” I gasped.

“Good.”

He smelled amazing. I inhaled the clean scent of his soap, and then my eyes dropped to his bare chest. The sight of the small barbell in his nipple up close had me sucking in my next breath. Dear Lord, his chest was the kind of chiseled perfection that sculptures were made of. Unable to stop myself, I continued greedily taking him in as my eyes moved lower until the towel that was wrapped around his waist left me frozen. He’d come out here in only a towel. I couldn’t breathe.

“I, uh, um, I …” The words came out in a breathless stammer as my face grew hot.

I’d never been this close to an almost-naked man before and most assuredly not one who looked like Thatcher Shephard.

He lifted his arm, and I watched him take a drink from my glass of ice water he’d saved from crashing to the marble floor. In the shadows, his eyes reminded me of black velvet, and I was mesmerized. I should be moving. Getting some distance. Rushing back to the safety of my room. Yet here I was, fighting the urge to bury my face in his chest and soak it all in.

“Thirsty, little doll?” His voice was deep and raspy, causing me to visibly shiver.

Now, I was covered in goose bumps. I hoped he couldn’t see it in the dark. I had already embarrassed myself enough.

I nodded, not sure I trusted my voice.

He stepped closer, and my entire body tingled with excitement as he placed the glass on the bar behind me. I wanted to touch him so badly that my hands were fisted at my sides to keep from doing it. He was so warm … and hard … and broad. The cedar and spice scent of his skin felt as if it were wrapping around me. My eyes fluttered as I inhaled. God, that was good.

Strong hands grabbed my waist, and my eyes snapped open as I was lifted from the ground and placed on the smooth granite of the countertop behind me. I still had to tilt back my head a fraction to meet his gaze, but I was closer to eye level now. I could feel the warmth from his breath on my cheek.

“You shouldn’t walk around with so little covering your body.”

The threat in his tone didn’t frighten me, or perhaps it did, but that emotion paled to the crazed fever that was surging just beneath my skin. His hands moved to my bare thighs as he dropped his gaze to where my sleep shorts had ridden up.

My lips parted as I began to pant while watching his fingers slide up the inside of my legs. I had experienced the ache between my legs before. I knew how to give myself an orgasm. But, holy crap, I hadn’t known it could feel this intense.

“Will you go back to bed and play with your pussy?” he asked me, his gaze flicking up to meet mine.

I swallowed, then continued to breathe hard.

“Do you slide one of your dainty fingers inside, or is rubbing your clit enough?”

I managed to blink as I stared at him, unable to speak. Trying to make words come out of my mouth wasn’t my biggest concern here. There was a good chance I was going to combust on the spot with just the sound of his gravelly voice and unrestrained carnal gleam in his eyes. Everything I’d ever been taught about sin, Satan, and hell all seemed less threatening in this moment.

He lowered his head until his breath was hot on my ear. “Tell me, little doll, how do you like to touch your pussy?”

A tremor ran through my body as my eyes fluttered closed. At any moment, the tight coil was going to snap, and I’d climax. If he kept talking, breathing, just simply standing here, I’d get there. How did he do that? I had never known a man could bring you this close to an orgasm without even doing anything between your legs. Maybe I was more naive than I’d realized. Not that I cared at the moment.

“Do you think about having that pretty pink cunt licked? Is that what gets you off? Or do you want it fucked?” He pressed a kiss to my ear.

I moaned, leaning into him. Ready to beg him to do something. If he just brushed a finger against me, I was sure I’d explode.

“Whose dick is it? Hmm? Tell me, little doll. When you spread your legs and play, who are you fantasizing about? Who is taking this cunt? Slamming his cock inside your tight hole over and over while you scream?”

The jolt startled me even though I had known I was close. A cry tore from my chest, and I grabbed on to his arms, burying my nails into his biceps as my body shuddered through the delicious shiver that raced through me. I fought to catch my breath as I held on to him.

His sudden movement snapped my eyes open, and as my vision cleared, I let out a whimper at the sight of Thatcher’s bare back as he walked away. My eyes stung with disappointment. Had I done something wrong? I didn’t even know how to ask that. It had been him saying those naughty things. I hadn’t made him do that.

The slamming of his door as he disappeared inside the room was the slap in the face I needed to break the orgasm haze that had been lingering over me. Now, I was just left with humiliation as it weaved its way into every pore of my body.

Sleep should have come for me easy last night. It normally did after a race day. However, I’d lain in bed for hours before finally falling asleep. Replaying everything that had happened with Thatcher. Trying to understand why he’d walked away. If I had done something to anger him.

As I stood in the suite with the handle of my rolling suitcase clutched firmly in my hand, my eyes slowly scanned the empty space. Thatcher’s bedroom door was open, but the lights were off. I knew without looking that he wasn’t in there. I was alone. When had he left? Last night? This morning? Would he be waiting in the plane? Maybe he had stepped out to get coffee … or he was checking out downstairs.

A knock at the door broke the silence surrounding me, and I swung my gaze to stare at the double doors. Was that him? No. He had a key. He wouldn’t knock. Letting go of the handle on my suitcase, I walked over and opened the right door. The familiar face of our driver stared back at me.

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