Kissing Liam Stone feels like safety amid storm at sea and its danger wrapped in one.
He kisses me like he owns me. Like I’m his oxygen. Like we belong together.
The feeling is heady, and way too real for what this is. I pull away, and what I see in his gaze scares me.
He looks at me with something that is more than playful fooling around. Something resembling intimacy beyond the physical.
Our gazes locked, our breathing synchronized, we stare at each other, fighting the feelings.
Taking a pause to urge them away. That’s what I’m doing, anyway.
“Should we take care of your emergency?” he rasps, recovering first.
Maybe he isn’t as affected as I am. Perhaps it’s just an affair for him. One we need to end, I remind myself.
I pivot us and push him to sit. Lifting my foot, I place the red stiletto between his legs and push him away. The chair rolls toward the wall of windows.
“I like the heels.” He reaches for me.
“Don’t move.” I raise my fingers.
He narrows his eyes and shifts in his chair.Liam Stone is not used to being told what to do. At work. In life. And especially in the bedroom.
He flexes his fingers, his Adam’s apple jumping. The moment is charged. His deliberation. My anticipation. Our demise.
When he says nothing, I decide to lead. “If you like the heels, you will like this as well.”
I pull at the sash, and the unbuttoned coat falls apart. Liam’s pupils dilate, and he grips the armrests.
I’m wearing my heels and stockings up to my mid-thighs, adorned with lace. Nothing else.
His gaze rakes over my naked body with an intensity that scorches my skin.
He is not touching me, but my nipples pucker up, and the spot between my legs is covered with my arousal.
His chest heaves in the same rhythm as mine. His every inhale is my exhale.
He licks his lips. “I definitely approve. This is a very welcome emergency. Now stop stalling, Little Thunder, and come over here.”
He doesn’t pounce. He respects my rules. I told him not to move, and while his hands itch to touch me, white-knuckling the chair, he honors my request.
I don’t know what to do with his surrender.
I don’t know how to handle a man like him. Every time I think I have the upper hand, he surprises me.
He takes over when I allow him to.
He shares his wins.
He praises my achievements.
Even when he’s in charge, he never takes advantage of me.
“Where did you go again, baby?”
Baby. Jesus.
I find the handcuffs in my purse and hide them behind my back. He is not too far, but I take my time approaching.
