Page 32 of Rush of Jealousy

“You look enchanting in this costume, Angie,” he says softly while calling for the elevator. “Wish there was more of it, though. And only for me to see.”

I roll my eyes at his overly conservative—only in public—nature.

“Lucky for you, you are not in control of what I choose to wear or not wear. So don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

He narrows his eyes down at me. He is going to bite his tongue completely off if I keep goading him like this.

I look up at him with innocent eyes and bat my eyelashes. I feel this unexplainable need to tease him. Tempt him. To make him fall over the edge and snap. I’m smart enough to know the game is dangerous. I just lack the willpower to keep myself from playing.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says calmly.

“Is it working?”

The metal doors pop open, and he pushes me inside the elevator against the rear wall. I let out a high-pitched yelp. His body molds against mine, and my luggage purse slips to the floor. He lifts my skimpy dress over my head as the doors shut, tossing it behind him. I am shielded with his body, completely consumed by everything that is Graham Hoffman.

His mouth suctions to the side of my neck, and he bites down. It’s like he is branding me. My good hand grips his hair and tugs with unbridled need.

I moan and hoist my leg around his thigh.

Hands grip my ass cheeks, and he lifts me high up in the air, kissing my bare stomach. One arm holds my weight, while the other shoves his keycard into the slot that allows access to his penthouse floor. As we ascend, I grind my crotch against his growing erection.

“This changes nothing, Graham,” I remind. My voice is airy.

“Whatever you want to think, Angie.” He pulls back on his hips just to thrust them forward.

I jolt backward with each round. My left hand tugs at his shirt, making him growl from his diaphragm. It sounds animalistic.

“I’m still pissed at you for lying to me.”

“Be pissed.”

“This is just sex.”

He snarls and ravishes my mouth to shut me up. My bottom lip gets bitten, and I instantly feel my gray cotton boy shorts dampen. His facial hair scrapes against my skin, and I love the rough friction it provides. My breasts mash against his chest, and I feel my nipples harden underneath my mismatched blue bra.

His mouth pulls away reluctantly, and he holds my back against the cold paneled wall. One hand is under my ass, while the other grips my jaw so I am forced to look at him.

His eyes darken. “Pretend whatever you want, my sweet and salty Angie.” His mouth closes in on the exposed skin of my shoulder, and he nibbles at it before coming up for air. “But it has never beenjustsex.”

I swallow my pooling saliva and moan as his cock twitches beneath me. I want him.

“I feel as if you are overdressed.”

He chuckles and smacks a hand against my ass cheek, making me cry out. It feels that good.

The bell rings and the doors slide open. Graham kicks my discarded dress and bag into the foyer and carries me right into his home. I kick my shoes off and they fall to the floor somewhere between the kitchen and living room. Up the stairs we go to the king-sized bed where I lost my virginity to him a few weeks ago. He tosses me gently onto the center. I try to conceal my body by bending my knees and holding them to my chest. It is like he is seeing me for the first time.

“If I was smart, I would tie you to this bed and keep you hostage. Never let you leave,” he says smoothly, removing his shoes, shirt, and jeans in one continuous string of motions.

I swallow at his words. In this moment of need, I would not resist. Adrenaline is running through my veins, and Graham brings out a side of me that I never knew existed. He makes me want things I shouldn’t want. He makes me crazy.

Once naked, he crawls to me on the bed and tugs my legs apart. He buries his nose into my clothed pussy and breathes. It’s like he is inhaling a drug.

“Fucking ripe and ready for me,” he exhales. His warm breath makes my skin prickle with goosebumps.

He turns his head and kisses each of my inner thighs as he yanks my wet boy shorts down my legs. My bra is discarded next. Before I realize what is happening, I am flipped over in one fluid movement, lying flat on my belly. Graham’s hands grip my ass cheeks and pull them apart, enabling him to see every vulnerable inch of me. I tense under his gaze, nervous that he is going to take methatway.

“Relax,” he says calmly. “You are nowhere near ready for me to take you there.”

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