Page 42 of The Shadows We Keep

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Could she try to sound any more seductive?

You’re welcome, sir.I mock in my head, irritated by the continued interruptions from this girl.

A sly smile pulls at Harkin’s lips, and he tips back his glass. “You’re absolutely green with envy, sweetness. Now tell me why that is?”

As I bite my lip, I debate on denying his claim. “Have you been here with her?” I’m disappointed by the neediness that seeps through my tone.

His glass clanks against the table before he leans forward, his face mere centimeters from where I’m kneeling. “And if I have?”

My head shakes of its own accord, just a tweak so small it could have been a muscle twitch, but it wasn’t, and he knows it.

He studies me, his eyes drifting across my face. I set it in stone, willing my features to fall and harden.

“You, my little dark one, are the only person I’ve been here with.”

His confession stills my erratic heart until his lips crash against mine so suddenly, I’m thrown back against the force. His hand meets the nape of my neck and holds me steady so he can plunder my mouth. I moan against his assault.

Voices seep into our surroundings, but I push them back, falling deeper into him. A finger traces down the exposed skin of my back, and I shiver at the contradictory sensations. But I’m left feeling empty when Harkin pulls away in a flash.

“Hands off,” he snarls.

My brain is in a fog, but my hands are in my lap. I’m confused by his outburst.

“Sorry, didn’t think it would hurt.” My eyes widen at the third party I was unaware had joined us.

“Our booth is for observation only. If you can’t heed that warning, move along.” The man says nothing, but he doesn’t get up to leave either. Harkin reaches over and grabs our drinks, handing me mine before he throws his back and drains the remaining amber liquid.

I slowly sip mine, but I can’t stomach more than a gulp before I’m handing it back over. Harkin holds his hand out for me. I grab on, and he pulls my body up flush against his where he stands.

“Turn around.” The command is more enthralling when he whispers it directly across my skin. I spin and stop, taking in the small crowd that has gathered here with us. Harkin’s hand falls across my lower stomach and pulls me in tight to his body.

“This is your last chance to take my hand and go back downstairs,” he tells me.

“No.” I shake my head in refusal. My need to be obstinate, is stronger than my will for modesty in an unknown setting.

“Have it your way then, little one.”

I hear it before I feel it: the rustle of something being pulled free. Then he wrenches my hands backwards, encircling my wrists in a firm hold. My body automatically pulls against the restraints, but there’s no freeing them. I stop fighting when I’m shoved forward to bend over the arm of the chair Harkin had been in.

His hand glides up the back of my leg, trailing along the inside of my thigh. A nudge of his foot against mine, pushes them apart. My little black bandeau dress fights against the movement. His fingers grip the hem and shove the dress over my ass. The thin g-string leaves little to the imagination for the crowd.

The exposure cools my heated flesh, but my core tightens in anticipation. The whole of his hand grabs my pussy. “Mmm, so wet for me already, sweetness. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

I squirm against him, fighting to find an ounce of friction, but he doesn’t give me what I need.

“Eyes on me,” he demands, and I snap my head to the left, eyes casting over my shoulder awkwardly.

I thought he looked delicious earlier, relaxed in the chair. But now, as he stands behind me, his eyes set ablaze as he takes in my body on display, he’s devastatingly intoxicating. The outline of his thick cock is hard to miss and my mouth waters at the thought of taking him in my mouth here and now, audience be damned.

“Do you know what I do to little shadows that listen to conversations not meant for them?” he whispers, his tone dripping with sinful intent.

I’m so enthralled by this switch in his demeanor, that I play right along, shaking my headno.

“You, sweetness, were not supposed to be listening to the conversation and hiding behind my office door, but did I get mad?”

Again, my head shakes of its own volition.

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