Page 14 of Under Your Scars
With a small wave over my shoulder, I turn to leave, and a familiar calloused hand wraps around my wrist, just like it did at the office. I take a breath, trying to find some courage in the air and turn to him. He’s got a new intensity in his stare when he looks at me this time.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asks, and my brow furrows. Does he really not remember?Ouch.
When I hesitate to answer, he very subtly rubs my wrist with his thumb and tilts his head towards me, and I understand that he doesn’t want our audience to know that we’ve met before.
“My name is Elena.”
“Elena,” all of the men say in unison, and I nearly shit my pants. My stomach hurts, I can’t breathe. I have a terrible feeling about all of this.
Christian, without taking his eyes off me, speaks again. “Let’s dance, Elena,” he says as he stands, towering over me. He tugs me to a secluded, empty corner of the club. Though we’ve got some privacy, the other men can clearly see each brush of his fingertips as he grips my waist and pulls me close to him. “What are you doing here?”
I try to think of any plausible excuse, but I come up empty as we sway to the song. All I manage to choke out is my job. “I’m bartending.”
Christian’s hands pull me closer to his chest, his hot fingers feeling like molten lava against the exposed skin between my skirt and my top. “How long have you been working here?”
I gulp. “Since Tuesday.”
“Since Tuesday,” he hums back. His hands graze over my hip and down my bare legs. He wraps his arms under my thighs and lifts me up, pinning me against the wall and his body with laughable ease. The action causes me to gasp. He clicks his tongue. “Tell me why.”
I dig my nails into his biceps. Even from under his shirt, I feel the ripples of muscles on his arms while he holds me up. His body radiates so much heat I don’t know how he hasn’t broken into a sweat.
“On Friday I broke my phone, and I couldn’t afford to buy a new one and still pay my rent, so I got a second job here to make some extra money.”
He hums again. “Is thirty dollars an hour not enough for you, Elena?”
“Of course, it is,” I say, hoping to maybe sweet talk him into letting me keep my job. “I really appreciate you giving me a raise. Please don’t fire me. I’m…I’m saving up to move back home anyways. Just please let me keep my job until—”
In the middle of my sentence, he shoves two fingers into my mouth and presses down on my tongue to keep me quiet. I whine at the intrusion. “Where is home?” He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and grips my thigh again, my saliva smearing across my bare leg.
“Houston,” I breathe.
“Put your fingers in my hair, Elena. Make it convincing.”
Hesitantly, I do as he says, tangling my thin fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, letting my nails scrape across his scalp. My eyes skate over the five men and Frank Valenti, still carefully watching the interaction, and I understand why Christian’s being so…bold. We’re putting on an act. He lowers his head so that his mouth is right at the shell of my ear, his hot breath fanning over my exposed neck. “What’s it going to take?”
Goosebumps prick over my exposed skin. The bottom of my spine tingles. “What?”
“For you to stay in Meridian City. What’s it going to take?”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer that. The only reason I’m in Meridian City in the first place was because of law school, but now? I don’t have a reason other than my dream position at Reeves Enterprises.
Though the fact that the CEO of Reeves Enterprises currently has his groin pressed against mine, that dream is just a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen.
He’s so close. So close that I can feel a bulge in his pants where he’s holding my legs up, my center slotting against his. My mouth falls open and a heavy breath of desire escapes from my lungs.
Christian Reeves is a fucking masterpiece, all hard muscles and charming smiles, effortless swagger and a panty-melting voice. I’m inclined to believe that he was sculpted by the gods for the sole purpose of putting every other man on the planet to shame.
His lips ghosting over my neck sends my senses into overdrive and it’s taking everything in me to stay still and not grind against the considerable tent in his pants. I tug on his hair slightly to pull him away from my neck, and it only brings a wicked, hungry grin to his face. He uses one of his hands to grab a fistful of my own hair and tug my head to the side, exposing my neck further. I feel his teeth lightly graze against my skin and his tongue follows the same trail. My eyes close, and I let out a breathy moan.
“Are you friends with Frank Valenti?” I ask quietly. He stops his gentle assault on my neck with his teeth and wraps a large hand around my throat, squeezing enough to make the pressure in my skull skyrocket, but not enough to cut off my air supply.
“I don’t want to hear another man’s name out of your mouth again, Elena.”
“I’m sorry,” I shudder, and he lets my throat go, his fingers digging into the curve of my ass. I’m going to have bruises in the exact size and shape of his fingers all over my legs. The thought alone has my mouth watering. A heady feeling settles low in my stomach when his mouth goes back to my neck and he kisses me right below my ear.
“I’m here because he invited me, not because we’re friends. He’s been trying to be my business partner for years.”
“What kind of business could you have with a place like this?”
