Page 12 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

“I was working, but now I’m not…”

He touches my cheek, leaving a trail of electric shivers. “Is this your game?”

I’m a rabbit, frozen in the spotlight of his dangerous beauty.

My breath comes too fast.

My sex fills with a dark ache.

No, no, no, no. This man can’t be turning me on. He is not turning me on. He’s just a dirty criminal. A bad person.

“Well?”

“It’s not a game,” I manage. “I might have a family emergency...”

“Might?”

“I—I...”

He grabs my hair. Heat blasts through my core.

No man has ever grabbed my hair like this. Possessive. Hard.

It’s wrong. So wrong.

But, God, the feeling of it. Some wicked part of me wants it tighter. And I want to keep the money, too.

He turns my head so I have to look up into his eyes.

Here in the empty, elegant little alcove next to the elevators, I’m getting lost in a bad man’s beauty.

He’d probably stop if I told him, but my skin buzzes all over like my blood has transformed into pure lightning.

I’ve never felt like this before. And I want more.

“Yes or no?” he asks.

“Y-yes,” I hear myself say.

He tightens his hold on my hair, twisting it like he knows what I need, and brings his warm lips close to the tender shell of my ear. “The reluctant nubile. Innocent. Scornful. It’s good.”

My core goes melty.

My back flattens against the wall as he presses his thigh between my legs. Everything in me flares to life. He’s hitting a place nobody has ever hit before.

“It’s good. Got it?”

I blink. Was that a question? An order? I always know theanswer. My study skills are impeccable. My color-coded organizational skills are second to none.

But now I can’t even think.

“Got it?” he asks again.

“Got it,” I whisper.

His hard thigh against my sex feels better than all the vibrators in the world because a vibrator can’t twist my hair and fill me with aliveness. A vibrator can’t be so dark and wrong as to take my breath away.

A vibrator can’t pierce me with pure, delicious, sparkling lust.

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