Page 29 of Bitter Secrets

“Roth.”

She braced a hand on his shoulder and pushed, but he didn’t budge. In fact, he didn’t even seem to register her demand for space.

“I’ve never left a meeting before,” he said absently.

“No one asked you to,” she retorted as she tried to shimmy out from under that implacable palm that felt like a fifty-pound Kettlebell.

“People panicked. The seller thought I was backing out of the deal.”

When he leaned down, she averted her face. He was unfazed by her rejection and kissed the curve of her jaw.

“I told him my wife needed me. You need me, don’t you, Jasmine?”

“Need you? I’ve never needed you.” She smacked his shoulder as he lapped up water on her collarbone. “Cut it out, Roth!”

“You needed me once. You couldn’t get through more than a couple of days without hearing my voice.”

“Those days are long gone!”

“We’ll see.” His lips cruised over her damp skin to the sensitive flesh behind her ear, and licked languidly. “Five years ago, you flew here to surprise me.”

When she tried to knee him in the crotch, he blanketed her body with his.

“I learn from my mistakes.” He yanked her hand out of his hair and pinned it over her head. “I realize business can wait, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Two guesses what that was. She bared her teeth. “Not without my permission.”

“Do I need to remind you of the terms of our agreement?” he asked and caught her left hand before it collided with his face and twined their fingers together before he pressed it to the mattress.

“I didn’t agree to bow down to your every whim!”

“No,” he said thoughtfully, “but we both know I can make you do what I want.”

“You egotisticalfuck—"

She surged beneath him and froze when his erection pressed against her. If he wasn’t wearing slacks, he’d be inside her.

“If you had any self-respect, you’d find a woman who wants you!”

“You want me.”

His confidence made her see red. She renewed her struggles, but stopped when the thick seam of his pants wedged between her lips. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to be still.

“If you don’t get off me…”

“The only way you’ll get me off you is if you want to be on top,” he said as his mouth followed a tendon in her neck.

“Fuck you!”

“I’m banking on it.”

She jerked when he took her breast in his mouth. The feel of his beard scraping against her oversensitive flesh and the occasional growl that sent pleasurable vibrations through her body made her toes curl. She tried to distance herself from what he was doing by recalling past lovers. She included many memorable performances in her books, but damn if she couldn’t picture their faces… not one. All she could think of was him. What he was doing to her, how he would do it to her, and how long she could hold out. He was doing it again—turning her body against her when she was emotionally distraught. She had to stop this.

She sank her nails into the back of his hand. He retaliated by biting her nipple. Instantly, she retracted her claws. He responded in kind, nuzzling her throbbing breast before he moved to the next and continued to pay homage as if nothing had happened.

“Do you know how many times over the years I wished I’d be called out of a meeting because my wife wanted to be with me?”

His voice was muffled, but she still heard him.

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