Page 12 of Lethal Legacy

I’m doing my best to ignore the effect that his close proximity and even closer scrutiny is having on my body. But it seems that with every word of my tongue lashing, CEO Man’s eyes become darker and more penetrating. And the truth is, the more he stares at me, the more I think about his tongue lashingme.Preferably right here. Right now.

“You can keep your guilt money.” I’m going to regret that particular decision, but man, it feels good. “And for the record, I don’t appreciate being woken up and summoned to your office. Your daily cup of coffee is already a twisted form of punishment.”

Oh, damn.

The way that last comment came out was just a little too close to the truth. And by the sudden narrowing of his eyes, Roman Stevanovsky sees right through it.

For a moment we stare at each other, my breath coming short, his eyes examining mine with the intensity of an x-ray machine. Then he throws the envelope onto the desk and closes the space between us, his eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous that makes every nerve in my body thrum.

“Believe me, Miss Lopez.” His eyes rake me from head to toe, leaving a trail of hellfire on every inch they touch. “My methods of punishment are far more twisted than you can possibly imagine—and take a lot longer than a cup of coffee to administer.”

He did not just say that.

But he did. And by the way he’s staring at my chest, he knows exactly the effect he’s having on my body. The familiar prickle of heat starts to spread up from the twin points that currently have his attention, turning my skin a deep crimson.

Damn it.

Reaching out with one finger, he touches the bare strip of skin between the edge of my T-shirt and the top of my shorts. I freeze, willing myself not to react, and his mouth curls slightly. “It’s a pity,” he murmurs, trailing his fingertip from one side of my navel to the other, never taking his eyes from mine, “that you don’t have time to find out.” Finishing his leisurely exploration, he takes a step back, out of reach.

I have to bite my lip to stop myself crying out in protest. Somewhere between my tirade and his filthy response, I’ve tipped right past the point of no return. My nipples are hard as bullets, and my T-shirt is definitely not the only part of me that’s wet right now. The pulse between my legs has grown to a throbbing, swollen ache that is threatening to rob me of the power of speech entirely.

“I could make you wait, for example.” His mouth curls evilly. “The way you look right now, making you wait would be a game I’d enjoy very much. Do you want me to make you wait, Miss Lopez?”

I bite my lip to stifle a gasp. I’m so hot that if he touches me, I’ll explode.

“I’m sorry.” He raises his eyebrows innocently. “You’ll need to speak up. Did you want me to make you wait?” His eyes drop to my nipples again, which flare in response. “Although,” he murmurs, “I don’t really need to ask. Somehow I doubt you’ll make it down the elevator. There are cameras in there, you know. I could always watch.”

My legs spread high and wide on the elevator walls, one hand down my pants, the other on my nipples—and CEO Man watching me from his office, cock in hand.

I’m so far gone I can only stare at him.

“Your habit of blushing is very useful, Lucia.” His arm snakes out, lightning fast, spinning me around and pulling me in so my back is hard up against him. The corded forearm I’ve been aching to touch sears across my bare belly, locking me in place. “It’s an easy way to know when you’re telling me the truth. For example.” His mouth is close to my ear, his hard length pressed against my ass, and I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing a while ago. One calloused hand strokes slowly up my outer thigh. “How long has it been since somebody touched you, Miss Lopez?”

I can’t answer. All I can think of is the hand roaming ever higher.

“No blush. I think it’s been a while.” I have no idea how he can tell. I’m pretty sure my entire body is flaming red at this point.

“What about here?” The long fingers slide over my hip and waist to cup my right breast through my T-shirt. I make a small, incoherent noise, straining toward it.

“Hm.” His fingers slip either side of the nipple virtually poking a hole through the material. “A long while, then,” he murmurs, pressing his palm down and manipulating my nipple until I’m squirming against him. “In that case, I should go slowly.”

Fuck, no. Don’t go slowly.

If I could force Roman Stevanovsky to throw me face down on his desk right now, I would. As it is, I have as much hope of breaking his iron grip as I do of stopping my nipples from swelling and growing impossibly hard under his slow touch.

“But I’m a busy man. And I don’t think you want slow. Do you, Miss Lopez?” His hand stops moving and lifts away. My breast tries to follow it, and he gives a low chuckle. “Fast it is, then.” Dipping his hands into the front of my T-shirt, he scoops my breasts out of my bra and free from the T-shirt they’ve been threatening to escape for weeks now. His hands cover them, the calloused palms grazing my nipples. I groan, my head dropping back against his shoulder. His tongue trails up the curve of my neck. He palms my breasts and I push into his hands, trying to force his fingers onto my nipples.

Then his mouth is hot and wild on my neck, his fingers rolling my nipples until I’m writhing beneath them and ready to scream.

“I don’t think it’s just your nipples that are desperate to be touched.” His lips touch my ear, sending a shudder of pure lust straight through me.

Oh, God, yes.

He chuckles again, and I realize the breathy, hoarse words weren’t only in my head.

I’m way past caring.

His hand is cupping me through my shorts, covering the swollen heat of me entirely. I push down shamelessly, squirming against his palm.

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