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“Y-yes.” She couldn’t help herself. She rocked her hips up to meet his hand, and he pulled it away.
Fuck.
“Do you want to come, pretty girl?” He pushed his fingers into her again, and roughly—just the way she liked.
Her toes curled and her breath hissed through her teeth.
He was fucking her with his fingers so good, and she wanted more. Wanted to see what Tim Dowd was capable of.
She grabbed his wrist, but this time it wasn’t to make him plunder her deeper but to still his hand.
He narrowed his eyes in a warning, and maybe he didn’t know it, but she understood. She was out of line, but she had to ask. “You won’t tell anyone where I was, will you? It’s important. My job…I can’t—”
“Shhh, pretty girl.” His features softened and the scowl melted away. “You’re in good hands. I’m not going to tell a soul.”
