Page 74 of Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire)
“Are we going to dinner?” I asked.
“Why?” His voice was silky, deceptively soft. “Are you hungry?”
“Um…actually, yes.” I was, but I needed something else first. My breasts were tingling, and the throb at my center was telling me it needed his hand therenow.
Hemi held my gaze, and it was a faceoff.
He won, but then, we’d both known he would. My hands went to the tie at the side of my dress and pulled at it, and then I lowered the side zip until, with a whisper of cotton, the dress fell open to my waist.
He didn’t touch me. He just looked at the wisps of transparent pearl-pink fabric that made up my bra, at the feathers of lace edging the band. The moment stretched out as I watched him look at me and…not move. He finally said, “You’re wearing stockings, I noticed. Unusual.”
“Well, yes. I am.”
“Describe them.”
I almost laughed. “What?”
“You heard me. You bought new lingerie. Describe it.”
“Is this my interview for writing marketing copy, or what?” You see how I was still in there swinging?
“You can call it that, if you like.” His eyes were holding me in place, pinning me down. “Or you can just call it a question I’m asking you to answer. And I’m waiting.”
The swinging was over, because another hot, sharp spike of desire went straight to my core, so sudden and so hard that I shifted on the seat. He saw that, too. I knew right then that Iwasgoing to see some consequences for the conference room, but not in any way I’d expected or could anticipate. He was going to make it last, and he was going to make it good.
Are you thinking that he was too demanding, too controlling? But you see, he knew how much I loved him that way. Hemi knew all my dirty secrets, and he loved every one of them. It was like he’d said back in that café. We were wired the same way, and he’d never given me anything I hadn’t wanted. He gave me tenderness when I needed it, and maybe when he did, too. And he gave me ferocity when we both needed something more.
Like right now.
“Well, um…” I said. “I bought this bra. It’s, well, it’s got lace trim, and it has little bows at the bottom of each strap, and you can see through it. Well, actually, I bought it soyoucould see through it.”
“So I could watch your nipples harden,” he said. ‘So I could touch them through it.”
I had to swallow. “Yes.”
“Show me how you want me to touch you, then,” he said.
My gaze flew to the partition, and Hemi said, with the barest twitch at the corner of his mouth revealing the smile he was hiding, “Charles won’t stop until I tell him to.”
“You…” I had to stop and breathe. “You told him it would be a while?”
He didn’t bother to answer that. “Show me.”
I looked at him some more, and then I did it. I lifted a hand slowly to my face, ran it down my jaw, then over my lips, tracing their shape. Hemi loved my mouth, and I knew it.
It worked. He didn’t say anything, but I could swear his own breathing had picked up.
I didn’t smile, even though the satisfaction was warming me as I watched his reaction. Instead, I ran my hand down my throat, tipping my head back as I did. My lips parted to let in the breath that was coming harder already, and Hemi watched that, too.
Fingertips tracing over my collarbones, now, teasing out a response from my sensitized flesh, my tingling nerves. Up and down between my breasts, that spot where the touch of Hemi’s lips could make me squirm in exactly the way I was starting to squirm now, until, at last, I reached the low-cut edge that stopped halfway up my breasts and began to trace over it, still with the lightest touch, still excruciatingly slowly.
Surely my nipples had never been this hard, or tingled this much without even being touched. But then, the bra’s fabric was so thin, they’d been stimulated just by the cotton of the dress rubbing over them all day long. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe it was just my treacherous body, and Hemi’s effect on it. All I knew was that right now, it was telling me the wait had better be over.
So I ended it. I put a soft hand on each breast and began to run my fingers over the lightly abrasive material, circling around my nipples, then brushing over them. Drawing out the response, reveling in it.
The ache between my legs was almost unbearable now, sending up an answering throb with every squeeze of my fingers on those tender peaks, with every second that Hemi watched me. The flames were licking me as if it were his tongue there. I couldfeelhis tongue there. Ineededhis tongue there. Why didn’t he do it?
“Lift your skirt,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse. “Pull it above your waist.”
