Page 40 of Selfish Suit
He’s in all black now—a button-down shirt and slacks—looking tired but controlled.
“I am so sorry,” I say. “I know you said no company in your condo again, and I swear I didn’t invite them, and I was about to tell you exactly what happened because Nolan decided to?—”
“Stop.” He cuts me off. “You don’t need to explain it.”
He walks over to the bar and pours two drinks.
I watch as he hands me one and then sits down beside me.
“You probably should’ve had one of those a lot sooner.” He smiles. “Would you like mine?”
“Yes.”
He hands it to me, but commands, “Sip slow this time.”
I oblige.
“After spending five hours with your family,” he says, “I understand why you lied to them. I would probably do the same, so… keep it up.”
I snort. “They mean well, they just...”
“Don’t understand,” we say in unison.
I nod and take another sip.
“Did you ever have to lie to your family when you were starting your company?” I ask.
“I never had a family,” he says. “Surely you’ve read my bio by now.”
“I’m just waiting for you to slip up and admit it’s fiction.”
“It’s not…” His lips curve. “Are you still with your boyfriend?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“What answer would make you finally stop looking at me like you want me?”
“Yes or no?” He moves closer.
“No.”
He doesn’t wait another second.
He cups the back of my neck and drags me into his mouth, swallowing my gasp like it’s what he’s been craving all day. His lips are rough, hungry, and I kiss him back with everything I’ve been holding in.
He shifts, guiding me into his lap—his control absolute, but his touch careful. My blouse comes undone under his hands, button by button, and his mouth follows every inch of skin he reveals. His tongue traces the curve of my breast before sucking one nipple between his lips. I whimper, arching into him, his name a breathless plea.
He stands with me in his arms, carries me to the mirror-walled hallway without breaking the kiss. When my back presses against the cool glass, he lifts my leg and slides his fingers beneath my panties.
“You’re soaked for me already,” he murmurs, eyes locked on mine. “Did the thought of me fucking you tonight keep you squirming on this couch?”
I nod, breath caught in my throat.
He strokes me slowly, teasing, until my hips are jerking into his hand. His free hand pins my wrists to the mirror.
“Look at yourself,” he growls. “Watch what I do to you.”
