Page 9 of Blue Collar Billionaire

I reach over, grab her ankle, and yank.

3

HOLLY

Oh dear God. I’m going to hell. Like the really bad hell that’s below all the other hells. I lay flat on the floor and don’t move as Danny crawls on his hands and knees towards me. I should be righting myself. Telling him no. Telling him absolutely not.

How will I ever face him again?

But my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I just lay there, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest, my gaze glued to his slow, measured prowl. I want it. I want this. Want him.

I want him to put his hand down my pants and make me come.

I absolutely believe if any man can make me see angels, it’s him. Even though it’s such a sacrilegious thing to think, which is another reason I’m going to hell, but damn… the man has a way with words.

What happens in the elevator stays in the elevator.

More great words. Their permissiveness echoes through my head and whispers in my ear as his body looms over mine, and I’m too far gone to do anything other than follow their lead.It’s like I checked my morals at the door when I stepped in the elevator.

His knees are either side of my hips now, although they don’t touch, and his hands are planted either side of my shoulders, his arms straight, his body held at arm’s length from mine as he stares down at me and I am caught in the warm, blue heat of his gaze.

My pulse flutters erratically at my temple, pounds hard in my chest, and throbs heavy between my legs.

Not taking his eyes from mine, he lifts his right hand. It hovers down my body, and I suppress the urge to arch my back so it makes contact on its way to its destination. My nipples are so hard they feel as if they’re about to pop right off.

His hand lands softly just above the drawstring waist of my sweatpants. I gasp as my stomach muscles contract. I can’t stop it, can’t call it back, and he just smiles.

Like he knows.

And I hate him a little bit, but I need him to keep going.

He does, his hand burrowing beneath the layers of fleece and long johns and underwear until it skims against bare flesh, and I shiver and cry out and really do arch my back now as his fingers slide against the aching flesh between my legs.

‘Is that where it hurts, Doc?’ His gaze is like a missile locked on mine. I want to shut my eyes, to look away, but I am mesmerised. And he knows that, too. ‘Is that where you need me?’

‘Yes.’

A pent-up sob falls from my lips as his fingers find my clitoris and start to tease. My hips lift, circle to the motion of his hand. My heart crashes against my rib cage, and I’m panting, and he’s barely started.

‘Oh yes,’ he whispers, his eyes burning bright. ‘I knew you’d be this wet for me.’

Two fingers find my entrance, and he shoves inside me, and I cry out and grab his arm. The edges of my world start to fold in on themselves.

‘So tight.’ He draws them slowly out. ‘So wet.’ He pushes them slowly in.

I can barely breathe for the sensations swamping me. I want to shut my eyes, but I can’t. I can’t look away from him, from the way he’s looking at me, like he’s getting off on it as much as I am.

‘You know what you should do now?’ he asks as his fingers slide in and out so freaking good.

I shake my head. I can’t form a coherent thought. I doubt I can move to do anything.

‘You should pull up your shirt and play with your tits.’

I suck in a breath at the suggestion. At the profanity of it. At the dirtiness. The analytical part of my brain rejects it even as my hands reach for the hem and yank up both layers of material.

The air is hot and sizzles against the taut tips of my nipples. But it’s not enough. I need these clothes off. I’m hot, burning up. I want them gone. I wrest them off my head, and Danny smiles at me as he drops his gaze to my chest.

‘Oh yeah.’ His voice is rough and low as my hands slide onto my breasts. ‘That’s it. Pinch them. Twist them. I bet you get off on a little pain.’