Page 64 of Bought
“Oh, just for me.” I swallow the bile as it creeps up in my throat.
He moves closer, now standing only a hand’s breadth behind me. When he speaks again, the lava is so close it’s seeping inside my ear, draining down my spine.
“Are you celebrating a win?” he asks. “’Cause me and the boys had one the other day.”
“Oh yeah?” I manage. “What was that?”
“We learned you girls have a new address. We know where you’re headed.” He reaches out and dares to drag his thumb over the bare skin at the back of my neck, sliding my hair over my right shoulder. “I’m sure Caleb would love to have your new digits. Want me to invite him to the housewarming? I hear the Hoax is big on parties.”
My blood runs ice cold. He’s never brought up Caleb’s family ties before.
I need to please him. “I’m with Lucian right now. He’s taking me to meet his family.”
I hope that’s enough to buy me some time.
It’s not. His finger joins his thumb. He squeezes, and suddenly I’m seeing stars. My right knee gives out, and I’d hit the floor if he didn’t grab my waist to steady me. I don’t know what I hate more, the pain he’s inflicting or how close he’s holding my body against his.
“Look, last night, I think I found it—he came in the room before I could grab it.” I lie to buy more time. “One more sleepover, and I’ll have it.”
I can’t stop fidgeting.
Giving up with a sigh, I lean over the console. “Are you sure about this?” I whisper. “I feel like that’s a lot of pressure on you. If the invite was just an offhand comment you made when you showed up at my door?—”
“Key words. Showed up at your door.” He flashes me a panty-melting smile, adding to the heat as he cups my thigh tightly. “I’ve never done that with anyone. So, yes, I think I can handle dinner with you.”
“Okay, then,” I say, trying to hide the huge smile spreading across my face.
It’s impossible.
His tone drops, gravelly with need. “I was desperate to be back with you.”
I’m burning now, fire licking inside and a pleased flush creeping in my cheeks. “That’s sweet.”
“Try to relax.” He runs that hand of his higher up my thigh. I lean back against the plush leather. “There’s a good girl. Don’t worry, my family will behave,” he says, with his hand sliding higher under my skirt. “And now it’s time for you to behave and be a good girl. Do just as daddy says.”
“That’s filthy,” I suck air in between my teeth. “Stop that.”
“Be good, little girl.” I get a hard squeeze, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of my inner thigh till I’m pressing the balls of my feet against the floor of the car, “Don’t talk back.”
I try to steady my breathing, but his touch sets off sparklers. The city outside blurred into a stream of buildings, a dizzying backdrop to his relentless hand.
My muscles tense as his fingers inch higher, a mix of anticipation and defiance coiling within me. We’re pulling up to a red light. I try to push his hand away. “Anyone could see!”
He stops the car, shooting me an icy gaze. “Move that hand. Now.”
I look at his face, all sharp angles and stern lines, except for his eyes. They're soft, hungry. I pull my hand back and let him do what he wants.
The leather seat beneath me feels smooth and cool, sharply contrasting with the heat radiating from his palm. I notice the faint scent of his cologne, something dark and spicy that makes me want to lean in closer, despite the threatening words coming out of his mouth.
“Be good.” The light turns green, his hand buries into me as the car jolts forward. “Don’t make me pull over and spank you.”
Heat and shame. He’s so filthy. ‘Daddy,’ I think, tasting the word in my mind. It's wrong, isn't it? Then why does it seem to be turning me on?
His wandering fingers brush the lace of my panties, tracing the edge lightly and teasingly. I can't help but squirm, a mix of tension and anticipation growing inside me.
Another red light. A curious gaze from the car beside me. I do my best to ignore it so I can stay sane. He leans in, his breath hot on my ear. “You're making this harder than it needs to be,” he says in a low rumble. “Let daddy make it all better.”
His fingers press against the lace, applying a gentle pressure that makes me gasp. He circles slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine. “You're burning up, little girl,” he whispers with desire. “But I know how to make you combust.”
