Page 82 of Fighting Mr. Knight

“There’s also the issue of the missing half a million pounds. I’m not in a position to pay you back. . .right now.”In this lifetime.

“Take me for dinner and we’ll call it even.”

I nod but I’m not sure I can even afford to take Jack to the fancy restaurants he must go to.

“Any other complaints about me? Or are we done?”

“Yes,” I rasp like someone who has been in the desert for a week with no water. “I think I got everything I needed out there.”

His grin turns wicked as he takes my hair in his hand and pulls my head back to look at him.

“About fucking time.”

21

Bonnie

Caught off guard is the understatement of the year.My reflexes are ten seconds behind Jack’s.Before my legs can tell my brain, Jack has lifted me up by my thighs and I’m straddling his warm, hard torso.

Gasping, I wrap my arms around his neck for support, and I instinctively squeeze his waist with my thighs like the greedy lust-crazed animal I am.

My skirt strains at the seams.

We are eye to eye, heat bouncing between us. So much heat my skin feels like it’s boiling.

I can’t catch a breath, but I can feel his.

I can’t talk. I’m completely incapacitated, floating mid-air on strong forearms as if I weigh nothing.

“I fucking loveyour face,” he breathes out against me. “Those lips, those cheekbones. Goddamn it, thoseeyes. Even when you scowl at me like I’m the worst man on Earth.”

“Speak for y-yourself,” I stutter. “You have some seriously sexy eye energy going on.”

He chuckles. One of his hands slides to my thigh from where he’s holding me in an invisible chair. He brusquely pushes my skirt up until it bunches around my waist, exposing me to Jack and anyone with binoculars in Canary Wharf.

Spread open, naked and squirming, I gasp louder this time. “You’re a little primal, Jack,” I say breathlessly.

“Just a little?” He smirks. “Maybe I’m behaving myself too much. I don’t want to scare you off, darlin’.”

His black T-shirt rides up his stomach.

Skin on skin.

My clit rubs against warm ab muscles.

Delicious. Wet. Friction.

The sensation sends shiversrunning down my body like a sexy taser. Holy fucking hell. Can you die of heart failure from being too turned on?

A deep moan escapes me from the depths of a place I never knew existed.I’m mildly embarrassed. The guy hasn’t even touched me and I’m already spasming like a cow banging against an electric fence.

His stomach muscles jerk. “I knew you’d be drenched under that skirt. You’re dying for me to touch you, aren’t you, Bonnie?” My name has never sounded so sexy.

“Yes,” I whimper as my clit grazes his stomach. My hips buck but he holds me tight, pressing my body taut against his.

His biceps flex under the strain of holding me. He’ll get used to it; I’m never climbing down.

His mouth takes possession of mine, pushing my lips open as his tongue thrusts against mine.

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