Page 82 of Wicked Fortune

“But also my dad again,” I admit. “He held the same job his entire life. Different titles over the years, but the same treadmill. He never said as much, but I knew he hated it. He was never eager to go to the office. Never excited by the possibilities in a new day. It was just a slog.”

I shrug dramatically. “I don’t want my life to be a slog.”

He squeezes my hand. “Does that mean you’ll be bailing on me and Hardline soon?”

I laugh. “Dunno. Lots of different jobs at a studio. Maybe I’ll go from being a PA to being a stunt double.”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Yeah? I’d pay good money to see that.”

“Considering it’s your studio, I guess it would be on your dime.”

He glances pointedly at the bed, then back at me in that way he has, where it feels like he’s peeling back all my layers. Exposing me. “Instead of a stunt double, you could be a body double.”

I feign shock, my skin warm and tingly. “Mr. Holt, are you suggesting I get naked with other actors?”

He grimaces, making me laugh. “Clearly I hadn’t thought that through.”

“Well, I’m a bit intrigued now.”

“Are you?” His voice drops lower, a velvety rumble that does things to me that are usually only featured in my late-night fantasies.

“Mmm.” I pat the bed behind us. “It’s still mine for now.”

His lips curve into a devastating smile. “Why, Ms. Parker. Are you suggesting that you’d sleep with the boss?”

“Hell, yes.”

He chuckles. “I do like the way you think.”

In one quick move, he cups the back of my head, tugging me toward him until his mouth claims mine. Soft at first, but when I fist my hand in his shirt and groan with need, I feel the change throughout his body. His mouth going harder, more demanding. No longer teasing but craving.

His fingers twine in my hair, keeping me where he wants me, so close I can smell the lingering hint of cedar from his closet, along with the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

His lips are hard. The kiss wild. As hot and intimate as fucking, and I relish it, craving nothing more, and at the same time craving everything.

Craving him. Starved for him.

I shift on the mattress, moving to straddle his lap, my hands on his shoulders as I grind against him, his cock hard beneath me, his tongue fucking my mouth as my body cries out in desperate, sweet longing.

Without warning, he flips us, and I gasp as I find myself on my back, his knees on either side of my hips as he looms above me. His lips curve into a sensual grin that sends heat racing through my veins. “I think,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, “that you’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Mmm. You should probably do something about that.”

His brow lifts, but he says nothing. Just reaches for the hem of my tank top. His knuckles brush my skin, sending a ripple of heat through me, and I raise my arms as he pulls the tank over my head, his gaze never leaving mine as he tosses it aside.

The tank has a shelf bra, and now I’m naked from the waist up, my hard nipples acting as indisputable witnesses of what I want.

“You’re stunning.” His words are reverent, almost a whisper, but it’s the way he looks at me—like I’m something precious—that makes me shiver … and the touch of his hands cupping my breasts that makes me moan.

I close my eyes as he cradles my tits, his thumbs teasing both my nipples and sending sparkling, golden threads of heat racing through my body to gather at my core. “Matthew,” I whisper, “please.”

“Please what?” His voice at my ear is low, barely a whisper, and his sultry tone coupled with the tickle of his breath sends shivers of longing through me.

“Just … just please.”

I hear the low rumble of his laughter, a sound of pure pleasure mixed with vibrant heat. And before I have a chance to beg again, his lips find mine in a kiss so wild and deep I feel it all the way to my core.

His hands slide down my sides, setting my body on fire. He’s holding me. Possessing me.