Lovegame(67)

“You’re here,” I tell him as I stroke my free hand along the clothed length of his erection, reveling in the way his breath catches and his hips stutter forward, “because I wanted you here.” I lean forward, press a lingering kiss to his mouth. “But now I have to go. Good night, Ian.”

He lets me make it to the door, even lets me open it. But then he’s grabbing me, whirling me around, pressing my back into the wall next to the door. “You didn’t really think it’d be that easy to get rid of me, did you, baby?”

Ian might be a worthy adversary, but in the end, he’s just a man. “If I’d wanted to get rid of you, baby, you’d already be gone.”





Chapter 19


Fuck.

The mouth on her.

The f*cking attitude.

It makes me crazy. She makes me crazy. Even the knowledge that she’s very deliberately yanking my chain isn’t enough to calm me down, to make me back off. Not when she’s right here, staring up at me with a look that’s half “go to hell” and half “f*ck me if you dare.”

There’s a voice in the back of my head telling me to walk away before I lose control with her again, but it’s drowned out by the blood pounding in my head—in my dick—to the rhythm of mine, mine, mine.

Her hair is down tonight, falling over her shoulders and down her back in the just-tumbled-out-of-bed look she’s known for. I fist my hand in it, pulling just enough to have her neck arching and her head tilting back. And then I’m kissing her, my mouth ravishing, plundering, devouring hers as I hold her in place.

She whimpers, moans, her hands coming up to push against my shoulders even as her mouth moves ravenously under mine.

Still I pull back, check her over to make sure she’s good. Her color is high, her lips swollen. And her eyes—those crazy violet eyes of hers—are already dazed, already halfway to being checked out.

My dick grows even harder at the sight. Fuck, the way Veronica can go under so easily completely blows my mind—especially when she’s so guarded the rest of the time. It also shoots my control straight to hell and for a second I think of f*cking her right here, think of bending her over the balcony railing and plunging inside of her as I make her come again and again.

But her hands are still on my shoulders, still pushing me away, and I have to ask. Have to make sure I’m not misreading the signs. “Do you want me to stop?”

Several long, excruciating seconds pass before she answers with a small shake of her head. “No?” I ask once more, just to make sure.

“No,” she answers, her voice still hoarse from everything we did last night. I want to feel guilty, but it’s hard to when I can picture her on her knees in front of me and how f*cking amazing it felt to thrust myself into her mouth again and again and again.

Her reassurance is all I need to dive back in, my tongue licking inside her mouth. She moans a little, sucks my tongue deeper, and all I can think about is getting her off. The noises she makes when she comes are the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard.

Keeping my mouth on hers, I bend down a little and grab the hem of her dress. I pull it up slowly, sandwiching it between us as I slide my hand up her thighs and into the top of the very tiny pair of panties she’s currently wearing. But the second I dip my fingers inside, she bites down on my lip, hard, then shoves me back even harder.

At first I think it’s just another step on the power exchange ladder—the light is dim, but I can see well enough to recognize the challenge in her eyes. But I can also see something else in them, something deeper, something darker, and every instinct I have warns me to tread carefully here. Oh, she’ll let me have her, of that I have no doubt. She’ll let me kiss her and f*ck her and make her scream right here, with only five feet and a glass door separating us from one of the biggest social events of the year.

In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what she wants. But every instinct I have is screaming at me that if I do that, if I go that route, then I’ll never get to touch her again.

Fuck.

I take a couple steps back so that she knows I got the message. But I keep one hand on her hip and the other tangled in her hair—partly because I want her to know that I’m not going anywhere no matter what tricks she pulls and partly because I can’t make myself let go of her. Not when there’s still so much unsaid between us.

“I need to go back in,” she says, shaking her hips a little, like she’s trying to shrug off my touch. I don’t budge. The sooner she figures out that I’m planning on hanging on for a while, the better off the two of us will be.

Still, I’m the one who screwed up the tentative peace between us and I’m the one who’s going to have to make it right.

“I’m an ass.” The words come out before I know I’m going to say them, but once they’re out there I don’t have any desire to take them back.

She lifts a brow. “While I don’t disagree, I have to wonder what brought that on. I mean, besides your desire to get laid.”

“I woke up this morning and you were lying there—”

“I get it. I spent the night too soon. Does it help at all that I had no intention of—”

“Is that what you think?” I ask incredulously. “That I freaked out because you spent the night?”