Page 23 of Dirty Deal

We’re entangled.

Finally.

“Look around, Lena.”

She obeys instantly, her honey brown eyes darting around the shadowed club. Servers slip between tables, trays of drinks held aloft, as the silhouettes of patrons drink and talk and flirt.

“No one is watching us back here. We’re on the edges, forgotten. I could do anything to you, anything at all, and as long as you bite your pretty lip and keep quiet, no one will even notice.”

Lena is panting now, her breaths fogging against my neck. My hand is still against her thigh, refusing to slide any deeper beneath her dress. It’s made of midnight blue silk, short and slippery and maddening.

She’smaddening. Does Lena Merritt even know how fucking perfect she is? Not because of her family name—in spite of it. Has anyone ever told her?

“Please,” Lena whispers, leaning closer to rub her nose against my throat. When the hot tip of her tongue darts out, tasting my skin, my whole body goes rigid with desire.

I choke back a groan.

“Come on.” She’s getting impatient now, wriggling in my lap, kissing and mouthing at my neck. “What are you waiting for? Touch me. Make it good.”

Christ. Alright.

“Brat,” I say, inching my hand beneath her dress. A few days ago, that nickname would have been a weapon I hurled at her. Tonight, it’s fond. “Part your legs, then, if you’re so desperate to have my hands on you. Let me in.”

Lena’s legs slide wider apart, her dress riding up to her hips. A pale triangle of fabric winks at me from between her thighs: ivory lace.

And those panties… they’re fuckingbridal. Innocent and demure and seductive, all in one go, and my heart drums a war beat in my chest. My mouth is so dry.

“Are these for me?” My thumb rubs against those panties, like I need to check they’re real. Soft lace and damp heat. “Did you dress up in these just for me, Lena? Hoping I’d peel them off you tonight?”

She nods, arms quivering where they’re looped around my neck. “Uh-huh.”

“And last night?” I scrape out, gaze darting quickly around the club before returning to Lena’s flushed face. “The night before last? Did you wear special panties on those nights too, hoping I’d see them?”

She shrugs, her pretty mouth curving up. Even wrecked and begging, even with her pupils blown wide, Lena’s still fighting me for control. I love it.

“Guess you’ll never know.”

A vicious growl slips out, and my thumb rubs at her harder, parting her folds beneath the ivory lace. Lena whimpers and wriggles, her hips lifting to chase my touch, and all the while she’s hanging from my neck like a monkey.

That damp heat soaking through her panties…

The humidity between her thighs…

Lena Merritt is wet for me, and she’s not trying to hide it. Not for a single second. She’sproud, defiance etched on her beautiful face as she rubs her panty-covered pussy against my thumb.

My chest cracks open, and if I’m not careful, all this goddamnlongingwill spill out and she’ll see before she’s ready.

“So damp,” I grit out, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugging them down, down, down. Lena lifts her hips and helps me get them down her thighs. “These are ruined, baby. Let me take them off you.”

Past her thighs, they come off easily, snagging only briefly on Lena’s one remaining high heel. Jaw clenched, I untangle them carefully and slip the scrap of ivory lace into my pants pocket.

Lena laughs wickedly, then gasps when my hand strokes up her thigh once more.

Another quick check around the club. Servers flit between tables and booths, same as before, but our glasses are barely touched, and there’s no reason for them to bother us or look any closer. We’re tucked away in our private world, cloaked by shadows, and no one else can see the paradise between Lena’s thighs.

Ican, though. I see everything. Her slick, swollen pussy, so needy for my touch; the blush that’s spreading up her chest and throat. I see every perfect detail of Lena Merritt as she bites her bottom lip, breath held as my hand glides closer.

“So soft,” I murmur, ducking down to kiss behind the shell of her ear. Her pulse taps here too, frantically enough to feel against my lip. “Your skin is like satin, Lena.”

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