Page 4 of Redeem Me

‘What’s that?’ His mouth twitches.

‘I’m not a girl.’ I step forward and rest my hips against his. The bass thumps through my ears, but not nearly as loudly as the blood pounding through my pulse. ‘I’m all woman.’

‘Is that right?’ He shifts his own hips in the slightest, subtlest movement, but it’s enough for me to feel something rock solid stirring in his trousers.

‘Yes. And I need a man to remind me. And fast.’

‘What’s the hurry?’

‘Because it’s been over three months since I had sex. I haven’t even had peace to enjoy some time alone with my vibrator. I have about half-an-hour before my overbearing bigbrother rocks up and if I don’t get laid sometime soon, I might spontaneously combust.’

‘Whoa.’ He rubs a thumb over the stubble dotting his square jaw. ‘You really are one of those girls, I mean women.’

‘If you really want to find out, I suggest we leave now.’ I want him. Even if he is tortured and repressed.Especiallybecause he’s tortured and repressed. I want him to take every single ounce of whatever made him like that out on me. I’m sick of being treated like I’m fragile. I want to be fucked, royally and thoroughly, to the point where I won’t be able to walk without being reminded of it for at least three days. Is that too much to ask?

‘If I were to leave with you now, where would you take me?’ He dips his face closer and lifts a thick finger to my collarbone, barely skimming the skin. Goosebumps ripple in its wake.

‘You’d have to take me to your place. I’m crashing with my aforementioned overbearing big brother.’

A low tut slips from his lips. ‘My place is miles away. And I never take women there.’

Disappointment snakes through my stomach. It was too good to hope that the hottest man in the bar had an apartment around the corner.

‘Oh well,’ I shrug nonchalantly, ‘if you see an explosion, it’s just me spontaneously combusting.’

‘Just because I can’t take you home doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.’

‘Do you even know the meaning of the word, Tortured?’ I joke, but there’s nothing funny about the throbbing sensation stirring in my panties – yes, I am wearing some, not that Tortured will ever find out either way, worse luck.

‘You’d be surprised.’ His lips brush over my ear. ‘Switch places with me.’

My eyes widen. Fuck, this guy is insane as well aseverything else. ‘You want to fuck me in the bar? Here? In front of everyone?’ I scan the crowd, a mix of young, glamorous women and suited men. No one is paying any attention to us. Everyone is immersed in their own unique bubble, chatting, drinking, flirting, dancing. But seriously, not so much that they wouldn’t notice two patrons going at it like rabbits spiked with Viagra. The lighting is low, but not that low.

‘Believe me, sweetheart, if I thought I could get away with it, I would.’ His hand slides over my waist to grip my hip as he guides me into position into the dark corner he was occupying. I’m sandwiched between the hard, hot planes of his torso and the marble counter, with the wood-panelled wall to my side.

The sheer size of his physique blocks anyone from even seeing I’m there, let alone seeing the hand that slides up my thigh and dips beneath my dress.

‘What are you doing?’

‘We’ve already established you’re one of “those women,” but I’m about to show you I’m one of those guys.’

‘What guys?’ Nimble fingers skim higher until they meet lace. My pulse thunders through my ears. I swallow back the saliva flooding my tongue.

‘The type that knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to grab it by the…’ gleaming eyes bore into mine as he yanks my lingerie to the side and sinks his fingers into my slickness, ‘pussy.’

I gasp and his lips curl in satisfaction. It’s not exactly the smile I was aiming for, but he definitely looks slightly less tortured.

I part my legs, scanning the bar to check if anyone has noticed a dark stranger has two fingers inside me and is currently pumping them hard enough to rock not only my body, but my entire world.

‘No one is watching, sweetheart. No one but me.’

‘You didn’t even kiss me first.’ What kind of stupid line is that? I told you my mouth opens, and anything is liable to come out. In my defence, it’s impossible to think about anything other than his fingers.

He laughs, but it’s low and cruel. ‘I don’t do romance, sweetheart. But I will make you come hard enough to see stars.’

I believe him.

Someone jostles into the space next to us. Over Tortured’s shoulder, I glimpse a guy ordering drinks. There’s no way he can see I have a stranger’s hand under my dress. Not with the way his body is shielding mine, but still, a ripple of anxiety whips through me, but the added danger only adds to the experience.

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