Page 45 of The Hero + Vegas = No Regrets

I start to rock back and forth on his leg. It feels better than it should. Maybe it’s because I can feel Worth’s breath on my skin, or because I’m imagining his muscular thighs getting wet through the denim. Maybe it’s the way his eyes flare with heat at my movements.

I’m so under this guy’s spell, I’d do anything he asked right now.

The rough cotton drags over my folds, catching my clit on every move forward.

“Worth,” I cry out. My breathing is jagged, pushing out each breath like I can only just make it.

“You’re doing so good, Sophia.”

My entire body tightens at his encouragement. I try to keep up my rhythm, pulling and pushing, darkening the material of his pants.

He kneads my breasts, pinching my nipples so hard it makes me dizzy. And even wetter.

I’m so close, and he’s barely touched me.

“Good girl, Sophia. You can come now.”

His words unleash something in me, and I shudder as my orgasm radiates from where my pussy connects to his leg all through my body. Groaning, I collapse on his chest. He pulls me close as I try to piece together what just happened.

He scoops me up, still slumped across him, and carries me into the bedroom. I lie on the bed as he quickly undresses. The sight of his gloriously hard cock makes me quiver. I can feel renewed wetness between my legs.

He drags me to the edge of the bed and kneels of the floor, sinking his face into my pussy like he’s devouring me. Another time, in another life, I would have resisted him. But I know I can’t. The only choice I have is to give in to every single thing I’m feeling. Worth is in complete control of my body and mind, and I trust both in his care.

FOURTEEN

Worth

I stand and look up at the monolithic problem in front of me. I knew something wasn’t quite right about Mason Wright. I just didn’t expect him to be a thief.

“Why are we meeting here?” Avril nudges me in the arm like she’s been here all along and hasn’t just arrived.

“You’re not late,” I say.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Avril says. “You can even tell time.”

I ignore her and take in the twenties-era, twelve-story building on the corner of Forty-Sixth and Ninth.

“What’s so interesting about this place?” Avril asks.

“I own it, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it.”

“What a terrible dilemma,” she says dryly. “Did you buy it by accident?”

“I invested in it. We should be six months into demolition and reconstruction by now.”

“Demolition?” she says incredulously. “Why on earth would you rip down a building like this? It’s beautiful.”

“You haven’t seen the structural report. It would cost as much to fix as to demo, so we got our permits to do just that. I thought we were moving ahead.”

“But you’re not?” she asks.

“Well, the developer has moved to South America. With my money. At least the property was in my name.”

“God. How much did he take?”

“We’re figuring it out, but I think around half a million.” It’s my own fault. I should have sent someone from my team on every inspection. He’d been paying off the architect to send me false updates, and I’d been too busy to follow up.

“Jeez. I hope you reported everyone involved.”

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