“Just try it.” Her whispered words feather across my cheek. “And you’ll end up like Mr. Bojangles here.”
“Slobbering and climbing all over you?”I’m already partially there.
She tries not to smile.Tries and fails.“Minus your testicles.”
“Don’t knock it unless you’ve tried it.” Releasing her, I draw my forefinger down between the open sides of my jacket. “Just imagine, being helpless to my touch and my praise.”
“While you demand I thank you.”
“For my fingers and my tongue. My pretty cock as I feed it to you.”
“You’re the one with the fetish.” Reaching out, she pokes her forefinger into my chest. My flex is deliberate; the way my nipple protrudes is just good luck, considering the way her gaze remains glued to it. “You get off on being thanked.” Her words are puffs of warm air I want to swallow.
“A gratitude kink?” I purr, spiking a brow. “You should subscribe to my OnlyFans.”
“You have OnlyFans?” Her eyes rise with a mixture of shock and interest.
“Where all good girls get to come, and they thank me for it. Do you know why?”
Eve gives her head a tiny shake.
“Because the pleasure is allmine.”
Chapter 14
EVIE
If the pleasure is all his, then why am I vibrating from head to toe as he watches me? Oliver and OnlyFans. That would be an obsession in the making. He wouldn’t even have to get naked, just sit there in his Savile Row suit and his shiny handmade shoes, straightening his cuffs and telling me what to do. I mean, I wouldn’t do it. But I think we’d both get off on the tension.
“Was Saturday an off day for you?” I ask, ignoring the subtle scent of him drifting up from his collar. We’re in the shed now, and I’m still wearing his jacket. I can’t believe I almost let him kiss me again. It was only a deep warningwooffrom Bo that brought me back to my wits.
It’s so bad that the dog has more sense than me.
I turn my head when Oliver doesn’t answer and find him staring out over the kennel run, arms crossed, one broad shoulder leaning against a wooden column. I allow myself to drink him in. It’s kind of thrilling that I know what he looks like under those expensive threads of his. The long, graceful muscles of his thighs, the wide expanse of his back.That ass.I know the sounds he makes. Where he likes to be touched.Where I like to touch him.And now I’m sniffing his jacket like an addict denying her problem.
Come on, Evie. Get it together. The man is no Romeo.
I begin to slip out of his jacket when he appears to come back to himself.
He glances around the space the volunteers use as a base. It’s even more ramshackle than the rest of the sanctuary. “What makes you ask?”
“You were nice to me.” I throw his jacket across the space, and he catches it effortlessly.
“Was I?” His purring tone catches me off guard, his earlier words echoing in my ear.I’m not going to be nice to you. You’ll thank me for it.“You must’ve caught me on an off day,” he adds, dropping his jacket to the blue plastic office chair, the one with a wonky leg.
“That I can believe.”
“Because my powers of persuasion are winning you over?”
“Oliver, seriously. You’re looking at the wrong person. You need an actress.”
“Why, when we already have a relationship.”
“What relationship?” I ask, my tone flat.
“We’re friends. Friends who really like to—”
“Hand me that bag,” I demand loudly—the Evie equivalent ofla-la-la-laa!as I point to the bag of doggy treats on top of a battered filing cabinet. I’m kind of surprised Bo hasn’t beaten me to them. Oliver closes his mouth with a smirk and does that spiky brow thing he does. The one that makes me want to shave it off. “Please?” I tag on heavily.
