Page 16 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
"You don’t think enough about yourself, clearly." Which is why she turned up for the meeting today without checking for any ulterior motives. Anger ladders up my spine. I don’t get it. Why am I concerned about her well-being? She's here, in my space, exactly where I want her to be.
She’s here insinuating herself into my life. Doesn’t she understand how bad this can turn out for her?
Doesn’t she care that I could do things to her that she’d never recover from?
My groin hardens. One part of me, at least, relishes the hunt. Adrenaline laces my blood. This could turn out to be interesting. Imagine that? Something to work toward. Someone who challenges me, who doesn’t grovel before me.
She dares go toe to toe with me? Interesting. I glare at her and she gulps. Fear radiates off of her.
"You uncomfortable, little girl?"
She shakes her head.
"Such a pretty little liar."
She jerks her chin. A bead of sweat runs down her temple.
I swipe out an arm and she flinches. I scoop up the drop of perspiration, then bring it to my lips and suck on my digit.
She makes a strangled sound deep in her throat. Watches me with unabashed curiosity… Or is that anticipation?
"I could take you right here and you couldn’t stop me."
She freezes. Her pupils dilate. Her chest rises and falls; the jacket stretches further. The button squeezes out of the eyehole. Bloody hell. I reach for her and she opens her mouth; her features contort.
"Don’t," she whispers.
She pauses. Eyes wide, mouth opened in an 'O.’ Pink lips parted, lip gloss gleaming. My mouth waters. My balls pulse. Is she trying to taunt me? I reach for her lapels and every muscle in her body snaps to attention.
I drag her up to her tip toes, drop my chin, until my face is directly above hers. Her eyelids flutter shut, her thick eyelashes fringing those soulful eyes. Eyes that consume me with their vulnerability. That hint at the innocence beneath the surface. An awed hopefulness through which she surveys the world. With bated breath. Waiting for her future to unfurl. An optimism that I want to tear apart with my bare hands.
Rip into her and teach her never to trust anyone.
Not so easy. My breath raises the hair on her forehead and her lips tremble. Her chin wobbles and she tips her head back, showing me the curve of that gorgeous neck. Too fucking vulnerable. I am going to have to teach her a lesson.
"Little Bird?"
"Summer." She swallows, "My name is Summer."
"Are you a virgin, Summer?"
