Page 23 of Royal Pain

“No, thank you.”

I watched as he walked toward the single massive window in the office. I hadn’t paid attention, but the unhindered twinkling stars told me he had a magnificent view. He was also providing me with some privacy, which I did respect.

I still teetered on my heels, which remained on my feet. Maybe he thought spanking a woman in heels and nothing else was sexy. I fumbled in trying to slide back into the dress. Yes, it was formfitting. Yes, I was perspiring, but this was ridiculous. Immediately, the scraping of material against my bruised bottom brought another wave of sheer agony. The concept ofnot sitting easily, of being asked questions by my friends was daunting.

And I could say goodbye to any idea of wearing my bikini.

He’d made certain he’d issued a few strikes against my upper thighs, which meant the redness would be seen. I only prayed to God marks hadn’t been left.

I couldn’t handle the grilling the girls were good at.

When I finally had it back into position, I hissed at seeing my panties on the floor. I wasn’t certain I wanted to slide back into them, but the rush of the air conditioning was making me conscious I had very little on. I winced at every move I made in getting them into position.

“I’m finished,” I told him, uncertain if he was expecting some kind of thank you or what. There were times a man had looked across the room, our eyes engaging. There’d been a spark, a shot of limited electricity. Nine out of ten times, the attraction hadn’t come to any fruition, but I’d been lucky enough to engage in a few hot dates because of it.

That had included my ex.

But the way this man was looking at me, his eyes piercing mine was as if the man was a true carnivore dressed in fancy clothing. I found myself drawn to him even though I’d wanted to hate him. I was even walking in his direction, which didn’t seem to faze him in the least.

As he turned around, it was the first moment I realized he’d removed his jacket, his muscular arms revealing such colorful ink since he’d rolled up his sleeves. I noticed a single structured tattoo and something inside of me awakened. There was nothingmore attractive in my mind than a man with ink. It was an artform, something I just adored.

Of course, it hadn’t been allowed inside Weathered Heights, the community frowning on anything gangster-like.

I felt out of breath, hating the fact I hadn’t noticed it after he’d dove into the pool. Now here I was drooling.

But the attraction was real, the desire building to a terrifying precipice. I was walking closer to him at the same time he was doing so with me. When we were only a foot away from each other, the heat between us became explosive.

The man simply took my breath away.

As we studied each other, it seemed my heart was thudding in my ears and I knew I couldn’t hate him any longer.

That’s because I wanted him.

To touch me.

Kiss me.

Taste me.

Fuck me.

Dear God, what did that make me?

CHAPTER 7

Evangeline

The moment the air became stifling, Gage closed the distance. The second he did, all rules were tossed aside.

He gathered me into his arms, like a true brute, holding me in place as he cupped the side of my face as he’d done before. Only this time, there was a raw sense of urgency, a need likely neither one of us could explain.

Without any hesitation or asking me if I was okay with this, he crushed his mouth over mine. I’d been right in that the man took what he wanted and for once, I didn’t want the polite kisser or the gentle guy.

I wanted a man who would take me.

My mind and emotions exploded and I wrapped not only my arms around his neck but one leg around his hips.

The feeling of having him so close was more than just electrifying. It was obliterating my mind with the kind of hungerI’d never experienced in my life. His kiss was more powerful than before, no longer trying to make certain I was comfortable.

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