Page 55 of Big Bad Bully
His eyes track the movement.
“I had a feeling that’s what you were into,” I accuse, trying to turn it back on him. I hate how breathless I sound.
A feral smile creeps onto his face. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him smile before. It changes his entire face. Makes him twenty times more handsome. “Oh, I’m definitely that guy.”
Everything in me ignites, turning my insides to molten lava. My pussy gets wet–dripping wet. I’m close enough to examine his perfectly shaven square jaw. The divet in his chin. The patrician nose.
“I had a feeling you crave being overpowered.” The velvet bass of his voice seems to lick between my legs.
I get dizzy with the impact of his observation. It’s not something I ever identified in myself, but the words ring some internal bell so soundly it’s like every nerve ending in my body reacts.
I don’t like how out of control I feel. How exposed. “You wish.” I throw as much scorn into the words as I can.
The ghost of a smile reappears around the corners of Billy’s lips. I find it alarmingly enticing. “Silver,” he rumbles, “I watched you come in the middle of my kitchen just from me grabbing your wrist.”
A puff of breath leaves my lips. He has me off balance right now, and I hate it. God, I still can’t believe he saw that!
“I could make you come again in less than sixty seconds right now. Just say the word.”
My pulse picks up speed. Word. Word! Yes, please. Except no. I can’t give him the satisfaction.
I draw scorn around me like a cloak. “Full of yourself much?”
He gives me a cool look. I’m burning up, and he’s all calm containment. “I’m just stating facts. I think you want to know what it’s like to have all control wrested from you.”
Something squirmy happens in my belly–a mixture of excitement and tension. I deny it all. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He tilts his head, still cool as a summer popsicle. “I know a bit. For the rest, I have some guesses. You want to hear them?” I’m still his captive, my arm twisted behind my back, my front pulled against his body. I’d fight for my freedom, but he’s right—I love feeling his strength and power. And I want to know what happens next.
I lift my free hand and make a beckoning motion— the kind you see in martial arts movies. Show me what you’ve got, Suit.
“Let’s hear it.”
“You’re attracted to me, but you also actively dislike me. Which is why you don’t want to give me anything, including your smoking hot body. You think you can’t trust me. Understandable. For one thing, I screwed over your best friend–an act I partially regret.”
I open my mouth to demand why only partially, but he’s on a roll.
“For another, you have a hang-up with Wall Street guys in general. Or maybe just the broad swatch of the wealthy. You assume I’m conservative, politically, because I love money, and you’re so far left, you’re coming around the bend to the right. Regardless, I’m about as far from your type as they come.” He tilts his head to the side. His gray gaze bores into me. “Maybe that’s part of the attraction.”
Now I interrupt because I can’t let my anger go unregistered. “Why do you only partially regret screwing over Madi?” I demand.
“Protecting Brick from any and all threats to his company is my job. Especially if he’s lost perspective because he’s thinking with his dick—or his heart as the case turned out to be.”
It’s weird to hear Billy Billions speak of anyone’s heart. I wouldn’t think he even knew the organ exists.
“So I don’t regret my impulse to expose any threats. But I do regret that I was mistaken about the direction of the threat, and I hurt them both.”
Hmm. That implies he cares about Madi’s feelings now. That would be a change. Madi still doesn’t trust him, but I believe him.
“But back to you.” He starts to massage the heel of my hand–the one he has bent behind my back. His thumb kneads the aching muscles in my palm. Wow. Who knew my fingers were so achy from painting yesterday?
“Go on.” I’m not sure if I’m encouraging his observations or his touch.
“I think you suspect—and you’d be right—” he arches a sexy brow– “that I can deliver on every fantasy you’ve ever had about giving up control. You want to know what it’s like to be tied up by me.”
He abandons massaging my hand and slides his large palm lightly over my butt cheek. The heat of his skin registers through my shorts and fishnets. “Blindfolded in my bed.” He squeezes my ass. “Cuffed to my ceiling.” His touch lightens again, and I sense one finger trace the seam of my ass cheeks. Somehow, he hooks one finger to burrow between them, exactly over my anus.
The sensitive nerve endings there respond to the stimulation. Tension coils in my core.
