Page 17 of Say My Name

I guess so.

He enters her in one punishing stroke, and I can’t hear them, but I know she definitely cried out in pleasure.

How could she not?

He pumps inside her, grabbing a handful of her ass with one hand. The intensity between the couple has me panting. He towers over her, and I realize that I’m watching two people have sex.

I should close my eyes, but I can’t. I can’t stop watching the way he slams into her. My body coils with need, and I can feel the wetness pooling between my legs.

I can’t believe I’m getting this turned on.

I need to remember why I’m here.

“So beautiful,” Devereaux whispers, and I nearly forgot he was standing so close.

Instinctively, I swing my head to look at him, and our lips are dangerously close to crashing into each other.

He doesn’t step back.

“Do you enjoy watching?” It’s an inappropriate question, but I tell myself it’s just part of the assignment. His hot breath fans over my lips. “I enjoy watching you. The way your mouth hangs slightly open each time he slams into her. The color of your cheeks when you realize she’s getting off all over his face. It’s stunning. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

I swallow. “Is that what you’re into? Watching others watch others?” I nearly laugh at how absurd it sounds.

He moves back a bit, rubbing his thumb along his stubbled jaw. “No. I don’t partake in any of the club’sactivities.” He says the words like he’s stating a fact, but liars can be quite convincing.

“That’s not true,” I tell him, challenging his words.

“Why do you think that?” His voice is smooth like honey, drizzling over a hot biscuit.

I lean against the window, no longer interested in the filthy deeds going on in the room, and cross my arms. “You want me to believe a man who owns a sex club doesn’t get down and dirty nightly?”

“Yes.” His eyes implore me to believe him, but I just can’t.

“I don’t believe you,” I volley back.

He slams a palm over his heart. “You wound me.” I smile at his dramatics. “I’ll admit, when I first opened the club, I definitely took advantage of the many perks.”

I arch a brow. “Ah, is that what they’re called? Perks?”

He laughs. “I had fun, but after a while, that fun became a chore.”

I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with Devereaux Huxley for so many reasons. One, he could be a killer. Two, he’s my boss. And three, I’ve never spoken this intimate with a man.

“So, what are you into, then?” Any other time, asking a man like Devereaux that question would embarrass me. But this is all for the assignment. I need info. Even if that info leads to me thinking dirty thoughts about him. I’ll just have to dissect later why I’m being so turned on by everything he does.

He stares at me for a beat longer than necessary and says, “I’m into anything.”

My stomach drops. Anything? “What does that mean?”

He braces a hand on the wall above my head, his lips mere inches from mine. “It means I’m into watching the woman I’m with get off. And whatever she needs to get there, I’ll gladly supply it. If she needs me to burn the world down for her to get off, then I fucking will.” The surrounding air sizzles with an undercurrent of tension because we are both crossing a line here. “I enjoy watching her get turned on.”

My cheeks heat. “Oh,” is all I can say.

“So, Swan, what are you into?”

I’m so far out of my element. I tell myself I’m playing a character, that I’m not really affected by his raspy voice or the magnetic pull of his lean body this close to mine.

What would it be like to be with this man? I don’t let my mind drift to that thought, and I think about his question instead.

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