Page 64 of Six
Flattening the palm of his hand across her lower back, he pulled her tight against him. Smiling to himself, he took her lips again in a searing kiss as she started rocking her body against his. She mumbled something in Italian, something about it being too long. But after all these months of waiting and wanting, his mind was too focused on the feel of her to translate it clearly. Although when she pressed into him, her core riding against the ridge of his jeans and her breath coming in shorter and shorter bursts, he had a pretty good idea of what she’d meant to convey.
Because it had been a long time for him, too. And like her, the feel of her body pressed against his had him a hair’s breadth away from cascading over the edge. Knowing what she needed and wanting to give it to her before he embarrassed himself, he slid his hand down her lower back, under the waistband of her boxers.
“Gavin,” she managed to say, tearing her mouth from his and letting her head fall back as she continued to rock against him. When he slid two fingers inside her, the moan she released just about finished him.
“Ah,cazzo,” she said through her heavy breaths as she ground into him.Ah, fuckwas right; he felt the same. But so caught up in watching her, in seeing her head thrown back, her long hair falling over her shoulders, her eyes closed as she focused solely on the feelings building inside her, he was no longer worried about an early ending to their encounter. He was physically aching to be inside her, but more than wanting that, he needed to watch. He needed to feel her body flutter, then hear the sound of her voice when her orgasm washed over her. After that, it was fair game for how long he’d last, but for now, there was nothing, trulynothing, he wanted more than to see her in ecstasy.
With one hand still wrapped in her hair, he tugged back hard enough to let her know that while she may be straddling him, he was in control—in control of her body, in control of her pleasure. He hadn’t been sure how she’d respond. A woman like Violetta might object to being controlled—as minor as his actions were—in bed, but the little hitch in her breath and the first flutter against his fingers told him all he needed to know.
Taking even more control, he gripped her hair, pulling her body down as he pushed deeper inside her. Then, holding her tight, he only allowed her to rock against him in short, staccato bursts.
Her nails dug into his scalp as he increased his pace. Sweat dampened her skin, and he was tempted to lean forward and taste her, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off her face. Her lids fluttered, then her body did, too, and she was riding that thin edge, enjoying the anticipation as much as she would enjoy what was to follow.
The need to control, to dominate, if only in this one realm and if only for now, took over, and he refused to let her decide when she’d let herself fall over that edge. Curling his fingers into her and using his other hand to keep her pressed against him so tightly that she couldn’t move, he rocked his hips against her.
She froze, but he kept rocking, as he teased and seduced her to completion. And then she was there. There was no gentle buildup, no more small spasms, no breathy moans. Her body clamped down on his fingers, and her back bowed in his arms. Her mouth opened, and she gasped his name along with a series of enthusiastic moans and a few words of encouragement that he didn’t need, but appreciated. Stilling his hand, he continued bucking against her as her orgasm peaked, then slowly subsided.
When there was nothing more than the sound of her breathing evening out, he withdrew his hand and rested it on her hip. With his other hand still tangled in her hair, he studied her. Her face was flushed, her full lips were slightly parted, and her eyes remained closed. She was the most stunning woman he’d ever known. She was beautiful, there was no doubt of that, but as cliché as it sounded, even in his own mind, it was far more than her physical looks that drew him to her.
At the thought of sinking into her, of seeing her face when their bodies joined, he swelled even more in the confines of his jeans. With a small flutter of her lids, her eyes opened, and she met his gaze. Slowly, a small smile played on her lips. He didn’t think she meant it to be seductive, but there was very little she could do at that moment thatwouldn’tbe.
“I think it’s your turn now,” she said.
He smiled back, then shook his head. “Now I think it’sourturn.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Six and Heathercame to a stop at the reception desk of Shanti Joy headquarters. “Heather Wheaton and Violetta Salvitto to see Julia Newcross, please,” she said to the receptionist—a young man whose name tag identified him as Scott. She glanced out the window behind her as Scott looked them up in the system. It was a beautiful day, and the midmorning sun streamed through the two-story windows of the lobby. Beside her, Heather stood with her briefcase, looking more determined than a person should less than twenty-four hours after burying the last of her family.
Scott was taking his time, but Six had faith Julia was expecting them. Earlier that morning, Heather had called Julia’s private phone and told the CEO that she had information about Shanti Joy’s activities in Indonesia. Not surprising, Julia had played dumb. Heather had ignored her denials, though, and simply said that if she was interested in hearing more prior to the filing of the civil suit, then Heather would be at the headquarters at eleven to talk. Intentionally, she’d ended the call prior to receiving an answer. Theoretically, it was possible Julia would refuse to see them, but Six doubted the woman would pass up the opportunity. There was too much at stake for her company, for her life, for Julia to take the risk of not learning about the pending suit ahead of time.
“There you are,” the young man said, eagerly clicking the mouse to his computer. “Your appointment is in five minutes and Holly, Ms. Newcross’s assistant, will be down in a few minutes to show you up.”
Six nodded to Scott, then she and Heather moved to the side. On cue, and on schedule, Cyn, Nora, and Devil all pushed through a side door and made their way to a second door that would lead them to the freight elevator. Dressed as cleaning staff, they caught no one’s eye, except Scott’s, who frowned.
From where she stood, Six watched as he rose from his seat, his eyes trained on the three “janitors.”
“Excuse me,” Scott called. When none of the crew answered, he excused himself and rounded his desk, approaching her three friends. Six glanced up and noted all the cameras in the area that were surely catching everything.
“Excuse me,” Scott said again. Nora was the only one who looked in his direction although neither she, nor the others, stopped their progress.
“What?” she snapped in a very un-Nora-like way.
“It’s the middle of the morning. You’re not supposed to be in the lobby during work hours,” Scott said, tapping his watch. “What are you doing here?”
Six had to give him credit, he was doing his job. But the fact that he had to continue to walk alongside them as the group more or less ignored him definitely didn’t lend any authority to his comments.
Nora shrugged. “We’re just going where we’re told.”
“Well, who told you to come this way? You should be using the back hallways,” Scott replied.
Again, Nora lifted a shoulder. They were nearing the door, and Cyn moved ahead to open it. “Don’t know. Some woman, big, tall, too. We don’t usually service this building, but the company sent us today since I guess you had some people out.”
Scott sighed, but then appeared to relax a little when Cyn opened the door using a key card. No doubt he assumed they’d been cleared by the cleaning company, because why else would they have a pass card? It also helped that they were clearly leaving the precious lobby area. Apparently, it was not to be soiled with the presence of the cleaning staff during work hours.
Scott stood, his back to Six and Heather, and watched as the three disappeared through the door and into the labyrinth of back hallways—the schematics of which they’d gotten their hands on the day before.
When it was clear they were gone for good, Scott returned to his seat and flashed Six and Heather a look. “Sorry about that. The cleaning staff is supposed to stay in the back halls.”
