Page 46 of Worth the Risk

“Meaning?”

“I didn’t expect you to be so loud.”

“Oh my God.” She turns to look out the window.

“Trust me.” My hand drops, my fingers resting gently on her thigh again. “It was a very exciting surprise, one that makes any of my fantasies pale in comparison to the real-life version.”

“Did you just admit you’ve fantasied about me before?”

“Yes, but now I don’t have to.” I lean in, my hand behind her neck in a flash. “Because every time I close my eyes now, I’m going to see and hear you writhing against me while I fucked you with my fingers. And I’m going to enjoy every last second of it. Are you telling me you haven’t fantasized about me?” I take her hand and bring it over to rest against my rigid cock. “About how good boss daddy can make you feel?”

Her mouth falls open against mine, a puff of warm air hitting my lips when she gasps.

“What are we doing?” she whispers against my lips, her fingers slowly tightening around my shaft.

“Stop asking me that.” I kiss her, just barely letting my lips graze hers.

“I’m so confused.”

I pull back, searching her eyes. “Confused about what?”

“Everything, all of it. Where my head is. How this will change things between us.”

I release her, sitting back in the passenger seat and turning my attention out the windshield. I watch a group of people laugh and talk while walking to their cars after a round of golf.

“What is that you want, Taylor—between us, what does our relationship look like to you?”

“I thought it was business partners, friends, professional in some capacity but still personal.”

“That’s what it was. I’m asking you what you want it to be because we both know it’s far beyond that now.”

“I don’t know!” She closes her eyes in frustration with a groan before looking back over at me. “It was fine the way it was, wasn’t it?”

“Was it? Me acting like I didn’t notice the way your hands trembled if I brushed up against you.” My fingers graze over her cheek in their path to brush her hair behind her ear. “You pretending not to notice me staring at you, imagining what you’d look like in nothing but the newest pair of Louboutin heels you’ve bought yourself.”

She’s fighting it. Her thighs clench. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“Can you go back to pretending? Hmm?” I gently hook my finger beneath her chin. “Because I can’t. I can’t stand next toyou and pretend like I don’t know what you smell like, what you taste like.”

“And if I ask you to—go back to pretending?”

My hand drops from her chin. “Is that what you want?” She swallows nervously, her lips parting but nothing comes out.

“Is this about him?” Her face twists. “About Noah?”

“No, this is about us.”

“Are you still in love with him?” I can’t hide the bitter tone in my voice.

“No, and even if I was, that isn’t what this is about. He and I aren’t together anymore, and my decisions have nothing to do with him.”

“Well, how would I know, Taylor? I didn’t even know you guys broke up because you didn’t tell me anything about it until six months after and even when I’ve asked, you shut me out.”

“Do you want to hear about it?” Her cheeks flush. “Do you want to hear about how I was broken and pining for him?” Her voice rises an octave. “How much I struggled when making the decision to walk away from a man I thought I was going to marry?”

“Just stop,” I mutter.

“How low my self-esteem got because I couldn’t understand why he kept refusing my sexual advances when I tried over and over again?”

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