Page 43 of V-Day
Abruptly, the air moved from torrid to white hot. Her body turned to molten liquid, which beat and rushed through her limbs, making them weak. Her breath shortened.
Cristián observed every single shift and reaction in her. His eyes glittered with intensity. A pulse throbbed in his throat…the throat she wanted to slide her tongue over right now and couldn’t.
“Touch your lips,” she whispered.
He let out a ragged breath. Moving with infinite slowness, he brought the tip of his finger to the edge of his mouth, then stroked it over his bottom lip. Chloe tracked the movement. Shefelthim doing it. Her fingers tingled.
She let out a shaking breath of her own.
“Your shirt…” Cristián breathed.
Almost shuddering with the intensity of the moment, Chloe pushed back her chair a few inches. It wasn’t calculated. She needed the room to move. In the little square at the top of the monitor, she saw herself shift farther away from the camera, which brought more of her body into view. The realization that Cristián would be watching the same viewdidmake her shiver.
She lifted the damp tank top off and dropped it to the ground. She wasn’t wearing a bra. It was too hot.
The tips of her breasts were rock hard and aching.
“Touch them…” Cristián whispered.
“You first.” Her voice was thick with the need pulsing through her.
He shoved his chair back as she had. His was a deliberate movement, designed to inflame her. If she had not already been throbbing with lust, it would have. Her heart jumped, though. Her breath halted as Cristián stripped away the tee shirt. Then his hands dropped to his jeans. His gaze didn’t leave her face as he worked to unbutton them and slide the zipper down, the tendons in his arm flexing.
Chloe realized she was stroking herself only when Cristián directed her hand with soft, hoarse commands. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from what his hand was doing, where it was moving, the silky flesh it moved across…
It had not been the only night they had found pleasure together, but it was the first and it had been powerful.
Cristián’s grip on the bag squeezed even further. “I remember that night,” he breathed, his throat working.
Chloe couldn’t help it. She moved closer to him, her body thrumming with a faint echo of the pleasure of that night. She brought her hand to his lips and traced the bottom one with the tip of her finger. Pillowy softness, warmth, and the touch of his breath on her finger.
“It isexactlythe way I imagined it would feel,” she breathed.
The heat in his eyes was ferocious. “Chloe…”
The harsh rap on the door made Chloe gasp and jump. She snatched her hand away from Cristián’s face and spun to look at the door.
Parris took a half step into the room, her hand on the door knob. “Will you, for god’s sake, get your ass in gear? Just because you’re the brother of the President doesn’t mean you get to sit down on the job.”
She withdrew, shutting the door silently.
Chloe turned back to Cristián, chagrined. Parris had sent her in here to hurry Cristián along and she had done the complete opposite.
Cristián had frozen. The bag slipped from his still fingers. “Duardo isPresident?” His voice was strained.
Chloe’s heart beat heavily, and not with anticipation this time. “You didn’t know? No, you couldn’t have known. Flores died, when they pushed across from the Big Rock, which left Duardo…”
Cristián’s face worked.
“It’s onlypro tem,” she added, wondering why she was trying to justify it. “He’s not giving orders or anything, butsomeonehas to be president. Cristián…”
He shook his head. “My big brother. The fucking president.” The bitterness in his voice twisted it and made it not his. Cristián pushed past her, tore the door open and strode past Parris, who stood on the other side. She watched him go, then looked at Chloe and raised her brow.
“He didn’t know Duardo was president,” Chloe said. “It…didn’t go down well.”
Parris sighed. “Go after him,” she hissed. “Pull him back together, Chloe. We can’t stay here.”
How the hell was she supposed to do that?
