Page 34 of Ice Cold Hearts

“We just want to help, Emily,” I wheedle. “Even if that helping is just listening.”

Alexei grunts in agreement.

“If you want to give this a real go, you’re going to have to let us into the bad and embarrassing stuff too,” I say, squeezing her just a little tighter.

“Okay,” she says, taking a shaky breath.

Alexei and I listen with mirrored expressions of horror as Emily recounts every detail starting with Liza cornering her and ending with the sabotage of her dress. She stops several times to get her breathing back under control and then once or twice more to mop up her tears.

About halfway through, Oliver bursts in triumphantly with a charcuterie board, clearly aiming to impress, but after one look at Emily, he sobers up. He perches next to me on the couch and holds her unoccupied hand in his.

Based on her glances at Oliver and the tightness in the corners of her mouth, she’s holding something back. She might just be uncomfortable sharing this with us. Based on the way she’s tensing against me, I know she is. It would be easy to brush it off as all it is, but my gut is screaming that there’s more to it. I’ve pressed my luck enough today, though, so I keep my mouth shut.

Oliver is the first to break the silence after she finishes her story.

“Liza is one of the best agents in the business. That’s why I keep her around.” He shrugs. “But she’s not always great at the boundaries thing. Her heart’s in the right place. She just wants to protect me, but it’s still not okay. I told her to knock it off.”

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“Oh, and your dress,” he adds. “I’m going to get it dry cleaned for you and send her the bill for it. Or if it’s ruined, the bill for a new dress.”

“You really don’t have to,” protests Emily.

“My agent, my problem,” he asserts. “Let me handle it.”

She shifts uncomfortably on my lap, and I realize that no one has ever taken care of this woman the way she deserves.

That stops right now. I am going to make sure we pamper this woman so much she’s ruined for any other men.

Emily laughs nervously and shifts the conversation. “So is a wine baptism and a cheese plate on the couch how your dates usually end, because I’m not sure it lives up to the hype.”

Alexei studies her face a moment, then nods at me.

I glide my hands up from her hips to the top of her ribs. My thumbs trace patterns on the undersides of her breasts. Her breath catches, and she presses her back harder into my chest.

“I’m not sure you could handle how our dates usually end, Kitten.” He smirks at her. “You’re already gasping and he’s barely touched you.”

He shoves her knees so they rest on the outside of mine. Automatically, her feet twist and she hooks them to the insides of my ankles, anchoring herself there.

“Good girl.” he says, glancing at her feet.

I feel her shudder against me.

“If you’d been wearing any panties tonight, they’d be soaked through by now, wouldn’t they, Kitten?” he asks.

The thought of her completely bare under that dress is too much for me to handle. I start to slide my hands further up her body.

“Don’t.” Alexei’s command stops me. “She hasn’t answered the question.”

“Tell him, Kitten, so I can touch you,” I whisper in her ear.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

“Yes, what?” he demands

“Yes, Sir.”

Alexei’s slightly jerking his chin at me is all the encouragement I need. My left hand creeps up her breast and starts teasing at her nipple over the sheer fabric of the dress. My right flies up to bracket her throat.

---