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And fair play to her, shoving my Breitling into a bowl of suds with a sexy smile is excellent retaliation.
One interesting fact I learned about Penelope is that she detests ham and pineapple pizza, and tuna sandwiches make her gag. Which is why I bought my men both for lunch.
“Where do you want us to put the plates, boss?” I run my tongue over my teeth, amused. “Just dump them in the sink.”
“Were you born a cunt, or were you turned into one by school bullies and a father that didn’t love you?” My lips tilt, a dark chuckle filling my chest. Where does this girl get her smart mouth from?
“Your dress, sweetheart. Take it off if it’s wet. I won’t mind.” My ears ring with all the blood rushing to my head. And why the fuck is my hand brushing against the grip of the gun tucked into my waistband? Ridiculous. That’s not me.
Alone with my heart slamming against my chest, I can’t decide who I’m going after first.
now. Embarrassingly enough, I can’t say I wouldn’t shove my Glock in his slimy-ass mouth if I did.
Images of Penelope on her fucking tippy-toes, gazing up at my newest recruit like laying one on him was at the very top of her bucket list, burns bright behind my retinas. The way my hand had twitched toward my gun was wild,
Her sass falls off a cliff because I can’t stop myself shooting out a hand and hooking a finger into the waistband of her tights. She wobbles to a stop, and her next breath fizzles through the part of her mouth.
I’m a dirty hypocrite; I know. I purposely smoked a single cigarette to make sure I caught her half-dressed.
I’m more sadistic that I thought. Only the tiniest flare of vulnerability reminds me that she’s five-foot-nothing and wouldn’t make it farther than the lockers if I decided she wouldn’t. Just like she wouldn’t have made it out of the phone booth if I hadn’t stepped aside.
My eyes skim to hers, and dammit, I wish I hadn’t looked, because I don’t find the sarcasm I was expecting. Instead, her face is flushed a pretty pink and her bottom lip sticks out. I shouldn’t know how it feels to run my thumb over it. Shouldn’t want to do it again, either.
I snap the waistband of her tights, hard, in an attempt to shock her. More fool me—the moan that escapes her lips tugs on the tip of my cock. I dig my finger back in, deeper this time, a darkness filling me as my fingertip grazes the band of her thong.
What I’d do to sink my teeth into that dough-like skin and taste those sins of hers.
To pull on her red ponytail and relish in every confession she makes against my pillow as I fuck her from behind.
“Try harder,” I grind out. I drag my finger out of her tights again, and the satisfying snap of elastic reminds me of the crack of a belt. “Keep your sticky fingers to yourself, Penelope.” “Yes, boss—” I grip her jaw rougher than I intend. I’m too worked up, too hot, to feel any regret.
I don’t intend on stopping until I’m in the darkness of my office, where the heat of her skin and the scent of her strawberry shampoo can’t mar my restraint, but her voice comes in a low, sultry rasp, my name wrapped within it.
“If Blake’s an easy target, what does that make you?” She pulls a wallet out from under her dress. Son of a bitch.
she flips open my wallet and peers inside. She tugs out a hundred-dollar bill and slides it into her bra. “That’s for winning the bet.” She pulls out another hundred. “Plus VAT.” She cocks her head in thought, then pulls out another. “Plus tip.”
This girl isn’t the Queen of Hearts, but the Devil in disguise. Unfortunately, I can’t say for sure I wouldn’t follow her into hell.
I grit my teeth. “I barely see him.” She laughs through rabbit-like crunches. “Really? ‘Cause he sees you.”
“What do you mean?” “The night I was on the yacht, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
Then his hand shoots out and grabs my throat so fast it steals my next breath.
Get in my car before I toss you over my shoulder and spank your ass for the inconvenience of getting me wet.” A tight, mocking smile flashes through the rain. “Please.”
“Did you just call me pretty?” His jaw ticks. “You know you’re pretty.” “I do?”
“Of course you do. You wouldn’t be prancing around in your panties trying to tease me if you didn’t,” he mutters bitterly.
“You don’t think I can handle myself, Penelope?” He looks at me sideways, eyes dropping to my chest and back up again. “You think I can’t handle you?”
I pop open my door, and unfortunately Raphael opens his, too. My shoulders tense. “You’re coming in?” “No, I’ll just sit here and play with my balls.”
BYE
Speaking of darkness, Raphael’s wet chest presses against the back of my head as he steps in behind me. His lips graze over the shell of my ear and fill it with a hot demand. “Move.”
“Yes?” “Cough up, sugar daddy.”
A strong hand grips my waist, and a dark, silky voice touches my ear. “You okay, Penny?”
“Where are we going?” His gaze cuts to me, a hint of amusement playing within it. “Somewhere no one can hear you scream.”
With a quick glance at my legs, Raphael shrugs off his jacket, lifts the paper sack off my lap, and drapes it over me. His warm hands brushing my thighs feel like static electricity and make my next breath shallow.
My blood only grows hotter when Raphael unclicks his seat belt and shifts his body, subjecting me to all of his attention.
Raphael lets out a soft chuckle. “You’ve got it all over your face.” He lifts his arm and for a breathless—and utterly ridiculous—moment, I think he’s going to lean over and wipe it off my chin.
But then the jokes on me, because when he fists the burger with both hands and stares into my fucking soul as he takes a ridiculously big bite, hot, needling lust sinks to the pit of my stomach and sizzles against my clit.
there’s something about how small it looks in his hands; something about the way his inked forearms flex and the primal way his teeth sink into the bun. It makes me think of other things he eats like that.
“You were a stripper.” This time, I can only manage a nod.
“So show me.”
“You’re eating.” He inches down the window and frisbees the burger into the night.
bye hes whipped
I swallow. “Here?” He nods. “There’s no room.” Wordlessly, he reaches down beside his seat and it whirs all the way back, creating a large space between his knees and the steering wheel.
“It’ll cost you.”
there’s at least a grand there, much more than I’ve ever dreamt of earning in a night, let alone for one dance.
“You’re serious?” “Deadly.”
The danger dancing in his eyes both thrills me and scares me at the same time; not a single trace of gentlemanly disposition exists within those irises. Not anymore.
Holding onto the steering wheel, I arch my back and roll my ass into the direction of Raphael’s groin. The guttural tone of his grunt sends a shock of pleasure up to my clit. It’s so animalistic, so ungentlemanly,
I’m desperate to hear it again. So, I slide back even further, until the tip of his swollen dick brushes between the cheeks of my ass.
A rough finger slides beneath my thong. The snap and sting of elastic meeting skin elicit a moan of my own.
“I thought you’d had lap dances before? You should know you get fined for touching.” A cool breeze whistles past my ear, and when I snap my eyes open, I see another brick of bills bounce off the windshield and skid across the dashboard.
His stare is so intense it’s borderline violent. It burns as it trails up the seam of my thigh and over my lower stomach.
