Page 57 of Tied Up in Riches

I give a slight nod to our company, faking pleasantries only to get out of here sooner. Beau tries to say something to Brooke, but she ignores him completely, guiding me away. I imagine she’s heading toward the elevator, but instead of pushing the buttons, she veers right, heading down the hallway toward the conference rooms.

I barely have time to slide in the room behind her, the heavy door closing behind us. She twists into the wall, her forehead pressing against it with a heavy breath. Her breathing comes quickly in short pants. If she’s this fucking turned on, I have no idea how she was holding it together in a room full of people the way she made me believe she was. With her forearm pressed into the wall above her head, she looks at me sideways. “Turn it off,” she practically cries.

“Why?” I know damn well she hasn't come yet, and I refuse to leave this room until she does.

“I can’t handle it. I can’t . . .” she trails off before adding so softly I almost miss it, “let go.”

I take a step, invading her space, close enough to touch her, to feel the heat radiating from her body. “Let go of what?” I’m praying to fucking god she’s not talking about the douchewad on the other side of this wall.

“Just let go. It’s making me mad,” she huffs out.

Ahh. “Stage fright?”

She glares, and I chuckle. “No. That part . . . got me closer than I expected.” Her breaths are still shallow like she’s genuinely struggling to get a deep one. “But this was supposed to bring me relief. Now I’m just on edge.”

“So fall over it.”

“You act like it’s that simple.”

“Isn’t it? Most things in life are a choice. A mindset shift.” I roll the sleeves of my button-up over my forearms like my body knows what I’m going to do next before my mind does.

“Stop giving me pep talks from your stupid books and put me out of my misery.” She sighs, twisting her body away from me like she’ll lean against the wall. I slide in behind her, pulling her back flush to my chest by her hips. She gasps. “Wh-what are you doing?” she stammers.

“Putting you out of your misery,” I whisper against her ear. I pull my phone from my pocket, lowering the intensity of the vibrator to two before stashing my device again. The moment the buzzing inside her settles, she relaxes against me like she can breathe again.

With my phone back in the pocket of my slacks, my hand takes a firm grip on her waist. “What are you doing?” she asks again, this time in a whisper.

“Brooke,” I murmur against her ear. “Leaving this conference room before you come might kill me. What’s it going to take?” Testing the waters, I run my hand over her thigh. Her breathing immediately picks back up, and I hope she’s too distracted to notice my heart rate doing the same.

“The rules,” she breathes.

“The name of the game is getting you out of stressful situations while we’re here. Is it not?” A chill rakes through her with my hot breath on her ear.

She nods, her eyes fluttering closed.

I let my thumb brush over the fabric covering the apex of her thigh. “Tell me you want my help.”

She presses into me more with a whisper of a moan, her ass grinding against my cock. Goddamn. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want to make this girl come right now.

I press a kiss to her neck. “Let me break the rule,” I say against her skin.

“Marcus.” The sound of my name on her desperate lips makes me never want to hear it said by anyone else again. “Yes. Please, yes.”

Fucking hell, her begging is hot. With her confirmation, I increase the pressure of my fingers as I trail them to her inner thigh, my other hand gripping her hip, holding her in place.

I inch my fingers closer, feeling the warmth of her body. When I get to the hem of her dress, I push it up until I’ve got a firm grip on her inner thigh. I rub my thumb across the silk separating us, damp to my touch. The realization sends a twitch straight to my dick, bringing him to attention against Brooke’s ass. A groan escapes both of us as I hook a finger on the side of her panties and pull it across her sensitive skin.

My middle finger makes contact first, rubbing small circles against her clit. Her head falls to my shoulder. I slide my finger down, toying with her opening. Fucking hell, she’s so turned on and sexy. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have to not bend her over the conference table and fuck her until she sees stars. But patience has treated me well in the past, and I intend to keep it that way.

She sucks in a breath when I slip inside her. I stay shallow, my palm pressed against her clit and I make slow circles inside her. I add a second finger, switching to pumping in and out of her slowly and deeper with each thrust. “Rules are overrated,” she says in a sedated voice before biting the corner of her lip with her eyes closed, her head locking into place on my chest.

The next one is deep enough I feel the small vibration against my fingertips. Her hips buck, and I fuck her with my hand, pinning her against me as I do. She tightens ever so slightly around my fingers–closer, but not there. She presses her hips into my hand, trying to chase the feeling. My other hand tightens on her hip, grinding her ass against my hardening cock. Fucking hell, she feels good. I’m not even inside her, but I decide at this moment I’ll do what it takes to make sure that happens.

It feels like forever, and I savor every moment my brain is focused on the present moment in a way it never is. I shift my fingers inside her. Taking my time. Playing. Reveling in her soft skin and the smell of the fresh saltwater spray in her hair. The small twitches from her paired with the faint vibrating coming from inside her. I have all the time in the world for this, but I’m abruptly reminded she doesn’t feel the same when her head tips toward my neck in defeat, a groan leaving her as she stops fucking my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Panic spikes through me thinking she’s regretting letting me touch her.

“I can’t do it. I can’t get there.”

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