Page 65 of Ruthless Mr. Ricco
“I won’t let you face him alone.Sure, you’re the only one with the credentials to stand up to him in court, but I won’t sit idly by while my woman takes all the risks,” I say.
Tears shimmer in her dark brown eyes, but she chuckles and shakes her head.
“You’re ridiculous, but thank you,” she says.
I sigh and lift our joined hands to my mouth so my lips brush against her knuckles as I speak.
“It’s been a week since I told you to use me, but you haven’t made any requests.Do you think I’m incapable?”
She shakes her head.
“I may perform other lip services for you, but not when it comes to promises,” I say with a nip to the back of her hand.
Her throaty chuckle travels down my spine and pulses in my balls.
“I’m not used to asking for help, but I’ll try harder.”
I hum and sneak the tip of my tongue between her fingers.She shivers.A surge of guests increases the traffic near us, so I lower our joined hands to the railing.
“Would either of you like a beverage?”
I turn to find a waiter offering me the last two drinks on his tray.I thank him and hand one to Brook before taking the last one.With a slight bow, the man scurries away.
Brook eyes the glass.
“You don’t have to drink it, little rabbit.I just thought you might want something to hold,” I say.
“Like you’re not enough?”she scoffs as she threads her fingers through mine again.
I chuckle and turn back toward the cityscape, sensing her need for a few more minutes to recuperate.
After a few moments, she takes a sip of the champagne.
“This tastes nothing like the wine I had before the class reunion,” she says.
I quirk a brow.
“Was that your first time drinking?”
“Yep.I was never interested enough to try and always too busy to waste time or money on it.”With a dramatic huff, she sends me a wicked side eye.“You’ve taken too many of my firsts,” she chuckles.
Heat curls through me.I take a drink but the cold, bubbly liquid does nothing to cool me down.
“You’ve taken many of my firsts, too.A dressing room.The kitchen counter.Up against the wall.Bent over the couch in my office.My desk.The shower—”
She elbows me before she throws back her head and drains her glass of champagne.
“Okay, time to go,” she says.
A laugh escapes me.She rolls her eyes and turns toward the party.I finish my drink and set my glass on the railing before catching up with her.
Her father stands between us and the front entrance.Although his back is to us, tension coils through Brook.
“Actually, I need the restroom first,” she says.
I nod and change our trajectory to the back hall.
When she leans against my side and presses her hand to her stomach, alarm heightens my senses.
