Page 51 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

The elevator took them to the very top of the house and opened directly into a huge room, with the biggest bed she had ever seen on a platform in the middle.

“Welcome to my place.”

…

She still had that slightly dazed expression on her face. He was quite aware he’d taken advantage of her. If he hadn’t blown her mind with that very impressive orgasm, he doubted she would be here now. But he had.

She’d been so fucking responsive.

His erection had subsided a little on the cab drive over; now it raged to life again, pushing almost painfully at his fly.

All he wanted was to get her naked on that bed, push himself in as far as he could go. Lose himself in her.

He blew out his breath. He should show a little restraint. She was in his home; he should offer her…something. A drink? A cup of tea? A night of nonstop sex?

He’d never brought anyone here before. He usually took women back to the apartment he kept nearer the office. That place was impersonal and held nothing of him. This was his home.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. She’d been staring at his bed. He liked that.

She cleared her throat. “Er, no. I’m fine.” She tugged free of his hand, and he reluctantly released her. Then she walked slowly into the room, peering around her. “I like your place.”

“This was the attics when I moved in. Servants’ quarters. I had it converted.” He loved the view over London at night.

“So where are the servants now?”

“First floor.”

She’d been gazing out the window, but now she turned to look at him, her brows drawn together. “You know, I wasn’t actually expecting an answer to that. You actually have servants?”

He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s a big house.”

She smirked. “So, what do you have? Do you have a scullery maid?”

“I don’t actually think I’ve got a scullery.” What the hell was a scullery, anyway?

“A butler?”

She thought he was funny. “I have a housekeeper and a chauffeur—who you’ve already met. They’re married and share a self-contained suite on the first floor. I believe there are also a couple of women who come in daily, but I’m not sure of the details. And maybe a cook…?”

“You have servants and you don’t even know how many.”

“I have enough.”

“You have more than enough.” But she sounded amused, and she took a step toward him, trailed her hand down his chest, catching her fingers on the buttons of his shirt. Heat streaked through him as her hand settled just above the waistband of his jeans. His dick twitched, and her gaze shot to his face.

“Does someone help you undress at night?”

“No. I undress myself.”

She trailed her fingers back up, flicked open the top button, and his breath caught in his throat. “Should I stop then?”

“No, don’t stop.” His voice sounded hoarse.

She unfastened the next button, then the next, until the shirt was open. As she flattened a palm against his bare skin, he closed his eyes for a moment. They flew open as Summer’s hand slid lower to settle on the waistband of his jeans. She tucked one finger inside and tugged him a little closer.

“Do you like telling people what to do?” she asked.

---