Page 73 of Crush

“Have I amused you in some way, your Ladyship?”

Amber placed the back of one slender hand against her mouth, stifling a full-on belly laugh from the looks of things.

“Laugh it up why don’t you,” I scolded, hiding it in a joke.

“I’m sorry. But you should have seen your face,” she giggled.

“What? They clearly fucked up the list. I broughtyouremember,” I pointed out, stopping myself from smiling. It was ridiculous but I was an arrogant sod myself. Having a woman put before me annoyed the hell out of me.

“How the mighty have fallen,” Amber added, needling me further. I glanced down at her pale pretty profile.

“You’ll pay for that later,” I said, my tone full of sexual promise.

“Oh, I do hope so,” she replied with an arched eyebrow.

Her provoking words fed the beast in me and my eyes flared. “Come on, I need a drink before I end up dragging you out of here by your hair and ripping off that dress,” I whispered against her ear, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and leading her towards the room with the bar.

My actions were thoroughly possessive and controlling. After she’d clearly outranked me, I felt a strong need to show everyone who was the boss. I could see from her body language that she liked my dominant behaviour. She seemed to love surrendering control to me now and that fact shot straight to my dick.

The venue screamed wealth and influence. I had attended a few events there but had always found the charity ball ironic. It was always the most lavish party, with thousands of pounds spent. Surely it made more sense togivethe money itcost to pay for the event directly to a charity instead? But of course, those big hitters wouldn’t be able to show off and rub elbows with each other in what should have been badged as a big dick contest for the rich.

In the main room, there was a dance floor and a stage. It was already crowded which was a surprise considering the night was young. The wood flooring was unscratched and polished to perfection and circular tables were set around the room dressed with white cloths and the finest silverware. On each table, there would be envelopes to place your bids for whatever luxury items they would sell throughout the evening. The highest bidder would win. Last year I won a trip to a spa for the weekend, totally not my thing. I’d given it to my mother and she went with some girlfriends.

The entire room reeked of perfume and booze and there was a large ice sculpture of a swan (as pretentious as fuck) surrounded by abowl of fruit punch. Punch of all things, it was such an American thing.

Amber and I walked over to the bar, she wore her usual killer heels but still felt so tiny by my side. Her ridiculous lack of height brought out my possessive side.

As I ordered two glasses of champagne, I noticed Amber checking her bag.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, lying through my teeth. I knew exactly what she was searching for.

She gave me an awkward look but then shrugged, “I think my phone must have fallen out in the car.”

“Do you need to make a call? You can use mine,” I offered.

With a small smile, she took the flute I offered her and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll get it later.”

Moving over towards one of the poseur tables, I placed my glass on the surface and then took Amber’s. Once again, asserting dominance. It was also a stamp of ownership. Amber was like a magnet drawing every man’s gaze. They all wanted a piece of her, title or not and it wound me up.

Amber licked her lips as she peered up at me, her stare now questioning. The action of her tongue caused instantaneous lust to grip me in an iron fist.

“So, what shall we talk about?” she said. Did I imagine the slight tone to her voice?

I dashed a hand down my face and went in for the kill, “Well, there are plenty of things I’d like to talk about but maybe not somewhere so public.” I explained, attempting to control my primitive response to the woman who was only moistening her mouth.

One fine ginger eyebrow rose and Amber glanced at the people around us. Everyone was wrapped up in their conversations and now paying us little attention.

“I’m surprised you’re ready to be so filtered in public. It never seemed to bother you before.”

“That was before I found myself with a member of the aristocracy on my arm.”

Her button nose wrinkled and her freckles matted together. “You’re such a chauvinist. Maybe you’re on my arm, Max?”

“Maybe, but there are other places I’d much rather be,” I whispered, leaning forward to kiss her nose. It was as cute as fuck, how could I not.

She drew back slightly with a glance around. Not the type to kiss in public, it appeared.

“I can imagine,” she said, taking her glass. I watched as she swallowed, the movement of her throat so sexy. I wanted to run my tongue against that column of her neck. A series of erotic images assailed me as I remembered how it felt to be inside her; the moans she made as I brought her to climax. It felt like weeks since we’d slept together but the memory was palpable and carved into my head. Amber was the best sex I had ever had and nothing would ever change that.

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