His other hand trailed upward, calloused fingers ghosting over my collarbone before dipping into the plunge of my dress,just enough to skim the swell of my breasts. "You wore this dress for a schmuck like him? What a waste."
I turned my face away, and my jaw clenched. "Jealous, much?"
He dragged his nose along the curve of my throat, slow and sinful, until I shivered. "Tell me, Duchess," he murmured, voice husky and soaked in seduction, "how bad do you want to cum for me again? Because I can still taste you on my tongue. So sweet and addictive. I want you dripping down my chin."
He dragged his nose up beneath my jaw, inhaling like he needed the scent of me to survive. "I want your taste on my tongue again."
His tongue traced my ear as his calloused fingers slipped beneath the edge of my panties, unhurried and bold. His fingertips found the slick heat waiting for him, and he let out a low, guttural sound that made my thighs clench. "You're wet for me, Duchess," he whispered, his voice thick with need and victory as his fingers slid through my swollen, needy lips. "So fucking wet, and I’ve barely touched you. I want my fingers soaked in your heat, Duchess, while you beg me not to stop. I want to feel you pulse around me, desperate and filthy, just the way I remember. The way you’ve always been for me." But most of all, I want you to admit that every single night since you ran, you’ve dreamt of this moment. And I’m going to keep coming for you until you do."
"I will never give into you, Caleb." I breathed.
He pulled back with a smirk that made my blood boil. He left my traitorous pussy thrumming from his touch.
"Not never, Duchess.Whenyou give in. Next time, it won’t be dinner I’ll be interrupting, Duchess. It’ll be something that leaves a mark. A message, loud and clear, in a language only you and I understand. Keep playing house with your polished friends, I'll be the shadow that keeps you looking over yourshoulder. You’ll know it’s me, and when it hits, you’ll realize just how far I’m willing to go to take back what’s mine."
Then, with a smooth grace that made me want to choke him, he rose from the seat and walked away like he hadn’t just set my entire body on fire with rage and something far more dangerous.
I sat there, trembling, trying to piece myself back together. The client returned moments later, oblivious to what I had just gone through, and the rest of the dinner passed in a blur of fake laughter and stiff small talk.
But I did not sleep well that night. And whatever little sleep I did get was filled with hot desires, rough moans, and the scent of expensive cologne and tobacco.
The next morning,I was still raw. I hadn’t slept, not even for a second. I was still in the red dress, lying curled on the couch with a fury in my chest that wouldn’t ease.
The door slammed open.
Rhea.
Her heels struck the floor like bullets, her eyes wide, her hand gripping her phone like a weapon.
"Have you seen the email?"
My voice came out hoarse. "What email?"
She shoved the screen in front of me.
Killic Consolidated Holding: Building Acquisition Confirmation.
I read it once. Twice. Three times.
"No," I breathed. My voice cracked. "He bought it?"
Rhea nodded. "Our building, Steph. The Violent Femmes location, bought. Just like that."
“Half the building,” I corrected.
“He bought the foundation. Which means we pay his mortgage.”
I shot to my feet. Blood roared in my ears. "Motherfucker!"
Rhea looked away, lips pressed tight. "He knew exactly what he was doing when he took Sanja. He was planning to destroy you, us."
"He didn’t show up at that restaurant last night just to get under my skin. That was a warning. This... this is the fucking threat."
"Restaurant?" Rhea blinked. "What are you talking about?"
I ignored her question, rage building. "I should have known better. I let my fucking guard down again, didn't I?"
"That's not the question, Stephanie. I want to know what we are going to do?" she asked quietly.
