A Single Glance (Irresistible Attraction #1)(22)

“And what is it you’re offering exactly, Mr. Cross?”

“Answers, and an escape, a way to pay a debt I know you can’t afford.” My gaze stays on hers, holding her in place until she gives me an answer. “This is a world you know nothing about, Bethany, and I’m willing to bring you into it. I’m willing… and you’d be wise to take this deal.”

“Call me Beth.” She corrects me without looking at me as the pen scribbles her signature, right on the line next to mine.

Desire sinks into my blood in an instant, surging through every fiber of my being as the paper and pen find themselves on the coffee table. Signed on the dotted line.

“I’ll go easy on you,” I tell her as I stand up, preparing myself to show restraint. She stays where she is, pretending not to be affected in the least.

“Is that right?” she asks as I pour a glass of wine. She stares at the dark liquid swirling before speaking out loud. “I’m already a little further than the right side of tipsy, Mr. Cross.”

I fucking love the way she said my name. My cock stiffens, immediately hard just from having her obey me, having her speak to me like this. There’s something about a fiery woman submitting that makes me lose all control and focus, giving it all to her.

“It’s for me,” I point out and take a sip. It’s cheap wine, but decent enough.

“Don’t confuse me going along with this for something it isn’t,” she says a little harder, with more resolve than I expect.

“Oh, and what isn’t it?”

“I’m not just going to let you do what you want and get away with it. I’m not that easy, and I’m not submitting to your every wish if that’s what you think this is.”

A beat passes before I ask her, “Then what are you doing?”

“I’m simply learning the ropes of your world, Mr. Cross.”

“This is how you’ll learn. You’ll do what I say. I ask the first question, then once I’m satisfied with your answer, you can ask me whatever you want. Those are the ropes, Miss Fawn.”

Her long brown hair brushes against her shoulders as she nods, making her shirt fall once again and a shiver run across her skin. She’s quick to lift the thin fabric back into place, as if it will be staying there.

“Lie down.” I give her the first command and just like yesterday, in the guest bedroom when I waited for the book she held so tightly, she hesitates, testing me before obeying.

“I’d like to address an important matter first,” she states innocently enough, arching a perfectly plucked brow at me.

“What’s that?”

“It’s seven seventeen,” she tells me and I grin, letting the rush of desire take over.

“I already started the clock at six fifty-two when I pulled into your driveway.”

Surprise widens her eyes.

“Lie down.”

“I’ll say no if you tell me to spread my legs for you.”

The determination in her voice is surprising, considering how badly she wants me.

Although I don’t speak the sentiment out loud, I make her words a personal challenge.

“You’d spite me to deny yourself a basic need?” I ask her and before she can respond I add, “I have no intention of fucking you today, but I know you need to be fucked long and hard … both that mouth of yours and your cunt.”

Indignation flashes in her eyes, darkening them, which only makes the golden hues that much more vibrant.

“If I put my hands between your thighs, would I find you hot and wet for me?” My voice is calm, although my dick leaks precum, throbbing from the very idea that her cunt is ready for me.

“You’ll never know,” she says offhandedly before lying down, covering herself with the blanket and resting her head on the one pillow that was tucked in the corner of the sofa.

“I asked you a question.” My words are hard, and her hazel glare whips to mine. “Is your cunt soaking wet for me?”

“No.” She answers savagely and begins to ask her own question, but I tell her, “I’m not satisfied with that answer.”

I drop to my knees one by one to get closer to her, feeling her heat, but not touching her. Not yet.

Somehow I keep my voice low and controlled when I repeat my question, “Is your cunt soaking wet for me?” My breathing is short, my palms hot with desire raging inside of me.

Give in to what’s to come, my cailín tine.

The Gaelic phrase fits her, everything about her, perfectly. My cailín tine. My fiery girl.

Lifting her head and staring boldly into my heated gaze, she answers, “You’re an attractive man, Mr. Cross. I’ve been wet for you since you pinned me against my foyer wall.” Her blink is slow and deliberate. When she opens her eyes, she stares at the ceiling as if her heart isn’t racing out of her chest, as if the blush on her cheeks is only from the wine. With her hands on her chest, she gently places her head on the pillow and asks politely, “Is it my turn to ask a question?”

Sitting back, I rest my hands on the rustic wood floors on either side of my thighs, forcing myself not to touch her. It’s so cold, and a much-needed reminder of how hot I burn for her.

“You aren’t in the position I want yet, but yes, I did say I would go easy on you this first time.”