Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 92835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
"Colleague." She shakes his hand.
"He likes guys," Liam says. "Not your type."
"I can appreciate a cute guy without wanting to fuck him," Briar says.
"You can?" He scratches his head. "How?"
She makes that ugh, you're impossible sound.
"Is this the hot brother I've heard about?" Remy asks.
"You two are so much alike," Danielle says.
They size each other up, deciding if they approve of this comparison. They must, because they shake hands, and shift the conversation back to Danielle's photos.
She eases during our second round. Even when Simon joins with his intense stare and his inability to hide his disapproval.
Between Liam's constant ribbing and Danielle's enthusiasm, the two of them knock Simon off his high horse.
We laugh, talk, drink all through dinner and dessert.
When we part, Liam offers his usual way to nail a hottie high five, Danielle hugs her brother goodbye, Simon nods she's good for you.
And I feel something I haven't felt in a long, long time: My brother's pride.
My place in this family.
The possibility the world is a big, beautiful place.
I'm on a fucking cloud on the way home.
Then Danielle steps into the elevator and slides her panties to her ankles, and I know exactly where I need to be.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Adam
Danielle groans as I pin her to the elevator wall. "It's been too long." Her fingers brush my neck. Chin. Jaw. "I've been thinking about this all night."
"I know."
"I know?" She shifts her hips, rocking her crotch against mine. "Should I reply that way?"
"Try it."
"You're no fun." Her lips curl into a half-smile. "I'm trying to torture you."
"Try harder."
"Okay." The elevator dings. The door opens.
She bends. Peels her panties from her feet. Slips them into my pocket.
Then she steps into the hallway. Motions after you.
I lead her to the door. Unlock it slowly. Hold it open for her.
"Thank you." She steps inside. Hangs her coat. Sets her purse on the end table.
Then she turns to me, with fire in her eyes.
It's already torture, waiting to touch her.
Being inches away from her.
But not because she's pushed me to the brink, made me wait an eternity to finally touch her.
Because I've made myself wait.
Because I've been locked in my cage, avoiding every hint of love and intimacy.
Because she cracked me wide open.
Does she see that?
"Close the door." She tries to copy my tone. Firm and in control. "Please."
"Yes, mistress." I do as she asks.
She fights a blush, but she holds strong. "Can you follow orders?"
"Can you give them?"
She half-smiles. "I should reprimand you for that."
"Oh?" I raise a brow.
She nods yes. "I should order you on your knees."
"Then?"
"Then you do whatever I say."
"Go on."
She places her palm against my chest. Presses lightly. Then harder. "Step back."
I do.
She turns, showing off the zipper of her dress. "Unzip me."
My fingers brush the back line of her dress.
She lets out a soft groan, but she holds strong.
I pull the zipper down her back. Trace a line back up her spine.
"Adam…"
My cock stirs. I love the way she says my name. I'm powerless to resist it.
"Take it off."
"Take what off?" I ask.
"My dress."
"How should I do that?"
"How?"
"Yes." I trace a line down her spine again. "Should I roll it off your shoulders slowly? Should I push it hard? Should I tear the fucking fabric?"
She shudders as I drag my fingers over her skin.
Higher. Higher. Higher.
They brush her neck.
"Adam." She leans into my touch.
"Yes." I let my fingers curl around her neck.
She lets out a soft groan. An I need you groan.
I'm not sure what she wants out of playing in control. Whatever it is, I want to give it to her.
I want to give her everything she wants.
And a million things she doesn't realize she wants.
"I…" She tries to find the words.
"Slow?"
She nods.
I curl my hand around her neck.
She lets out another soft groan. Lets her head fall into my hand.
I'm tempted to pull her close, take her into my arms, throw her on the bed.
But not yet.
This first.
I press my lips to the back of her neck as I trace a line down her spine.
Then back up.
Slower.
Softer.
Again and again.
Her breaths run together.
Her fingers curl into her dress.
Finally, when she's so wound she can't take it, I slide her dress off her shoulders.
Over her chest. Her waist. Her lush ass.
I drop to my knees to peel it off her feet.
My lips brush the small of her back.
She turns. "Adam."
"Yes." I press my lips to her stomach, the spot just above her black underwear. Then lower. Lower.
"I didn't say…"
"Didn't say what?" I place a kiss on her pelvis.
She lets out a soft sigh.
I move lower. Lower.
Closer to where she needs me.
"Adam." Her hand knots in my hair. "Not yet."
I press my lips to her stomach.
"I'm torturing you."
"I'm tortured."
"Are you?"
"Very."
"But you're so calm and in control."
"How else would I be?" I ask.
"Wound so tight you're going to break."
"I am." I slide my arms around her. Pull her to my mouth. "I'm just better at hiding it."