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I bet it secures multi-million-dollar deals and makes women drop their panties without a second thought. Hell, if I didn’t have a hundred problems, I could see myself being one of them.
“You sure are persistent for a man that isn’t interested.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Oh, I’m interested.”
Because behind every married man is a woman who doesn’t realize he’s an asshole.
His dimples deepen, as if he’s pleased with my answer. “Ah.”
“I’d rather shut my dick in a car door than do this again some time, Penelope.”
Raphael Visconti may look like a gentleman, may talk like a gentleman. But he is anything but a gentleman.
she’s the only person in the Reserve, in the world, and if this were the case for the rest of his life, then he’d be perfectly content with that.
To the side of the arbor, I find a pair of eyes already on me, full of green enchantment that makes the noise around me fade
“It feels like your heart is walking outside of your body.” Her gaze finds Angelo’s again, and I watch in fascination as a pink flush creeps from underneath her necklace. “My heart now wears Armani and has a Glock for every day of the week.”
“Or maybe I just want to see you shut your dick in a car door.” “Or maybe you just want to see my dick.”
His gaze drops to my lips. “Or, if you don’t have either of those, perhaps that beautiful face of yours.”
He bends over, grips my throat, and snatches all the air from my lungs like it’s his to take.
Nice girls take back-handed compliments with a grain of salt, or bitch to their friends about it later. They don’t start pulling hair.
I freeze when he reaches out and gently cups my jaw. My head moves at his will, up and to the left, so I’m staring directly at the moon shining bright against the starless sky.
His hand is large and hot, save for the ice-cold ring resting against my cheekbone.
Slams it a little too hard for my liking, and a strange sheet of irritation slides under my skin, cold and rigid. I suppose it’s the gentleman in me. By nature, I dislike watching a man—especially one on my payroll—talk to a woman like that, even if she’s one I’m not a fan of.
It’s almost as if she’s mine to be pissed off at. Nobody else’s. Definitely not Freddie the fucking barman’s.
As she does, I can’t help but lower my mouth to the base of her ponytail so her hair brushes against my lips again.
I steal another huff, and this time, something other than strawberry and hairspray assaults my nostrils. Something familiar. Mine.
The realization has claws and they dig under my skin; she’s we...
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“Change the uniform.” She frowns and glances down at her outfit. “To what?” To something that covers Penelope’s ass cheeks.
Don’t think Freddie likes me, though.” “Doesn’t matter, Rafe just fired him.”
He straightens to his full height and takes a step back, but not before turning his palm inward and brushing it over the dip of my hip as he pushes off the counter.
“Careful calling me boss when you’re half naked, Penelope,” he drawls. “I might just get the wrong idea.”
Penelope forgot to count until the next roll of thunder and it catches her off guard. She yelps. Slams a hand against my chest to steady herself. My muscles tense under the weight of her warm palm. Maybe it’s because it’s past three in the morning, or maybe I’m just out of my fucking mind, but I slide my hand over hers.
Like I wasn’t trapping myself into an eight-by-four box with a girl whose half-naked body I’d thought about at least once an hour for three days straight.
A couple layers of wet clothes I could have off her body in under ten seconds. Under five, if I was feeling…reckless.
Just the spark of defiance in her big, blue eyes makes me want to tear off my gentlemanly mask and devour her whole.
She’s borderline cocky, which presents a challenge within itself. It seems I crave the satisfaction of knocking it out of her with any means possible.
Before I can stop myself, I close the gap between us, resting my palm against the wall above her head.
“Have you ever been in love, Penelope?”
“Then, no.” A small flicker of relief dances like a candle in the darkness of my chest. Ridiculous. I shouldn’t give a flying fuck if this girl has been in love or not. I don’t.
it’s impossible to get away from her. She might be five-foot-nothing, but she fills every inch of this space, making the air so thick and sweet that it might just burst at the seams.
Her expression is indifferent, unreadable, but her eyes spark with something hotter. When they lock onto mine, my heart slams against my ribs.
“What if I don’t let you go?” It’s a question, not a threat. Maybe.
The top of her head barely reaches the third button on my shirt, for god’s sake. If I wanted to…have my way with her, there’s nothing she could do to stop it.
My stomach tenses. “Don’t.” It’s a sharp warning, delivered through the gap between my clenched teeth. She shifts again, more deliberately this time. Her wet hair tickles my throat as she tilts her chin. “Or what?”
It’s barely a whisper, but it’s loaded with an insolence I want to rip from her vocal cords.
Tightening her grip on her book, her eyes crawl down the front of my shirt, past my belt, and land on my dick. The heat of her gaze makes my fist curl tighter around the poker chip in my pocket. God help me.
How am I meant to be good when I’m obsessed with something so bad?
My back slams against something hard and I brace myself for the moment my head meets the same fate. But the crack doesn’t come,
Raphael’s hand slips behind my crown and cushions the blow, while the other hand claps down on my mouth and absorbs my scream.
I’m panting, and the wry amusement swirling through Raphael’s gaze suggests he’s enjoying how each of my ragged breaths dampen his palm.
My pussy clenches around the word inappropriate. He must have noticed, because he punctuates my moan against his palm with a sharp tug of my hair.
With a lazy smirk, he searches my half-lidded gaze, as if admiring the frenzy he’s sent me into.
“As much as it pains me to admit it, you’re rather hot when you’re gagged.”
WHATTT
Before his palm slides off my chin, he hooks his thumb over the curve of my bottom lip to keep it there.
“I bet you bite when you fuck,” he says pensively,
My heart hitches. “And I bet you a hundred bucks you’re hard right now,” I answer.
“You’re a dog, Penelope,” he says breezily over his shoulder. “I should look into putting you down.” “They already tried.” His footsteps slow to a stop and he glances back at me. “And?” “I bit the vet.”
