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He saysNeomi.
Not one of my nicknames.
I love the sound of it.
I also hate how right he is.
That I’m soaked for him.
I hiss, my body tightening when he runs his thumb along the hem of my panties. His touch is a slow torture. My heartbeat turns frantic when he slips his finger beneath my panties.
“I’m as dry as the Sahara,” I say around a heavy breath while trying to maintain my pride.
He chuckles when the tip of his finger meets my core. “Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you claim.” His teasing touch runs up and down my slit.
I raise my knees, scooting them back, stupidly allowing him access.
A phone ringing snaps me out of my trance.
Benny freezes.
I suddenly shut my legs, trapping his hand there, and he peers up at me.
“You’d better get that,” I say since the ringing is coming from his pocket. I slowly open my legs and pull away, not giving him the opportunity to ignore the call.
The interruption was proof I’m not supposed to let Benny touch me.
The universe sent me a reminder.
He ignores the call, and I roll off the bed, practically falling onto the floor. Benny remains in place and doesn’t offer a helping hand. I groan while gripping the edge of the bed and pull myself up.
It’s like I have a hangover, and I didn’t even take a sip of liquor at dinner.
Benny watches me, his gaze controlled yet full of hunger.
I clear my throat to stop his eye-fucking.
He smirks. “I like you in my clothes.”
I roll my eyes and attempt to tug down the shirt, wishing I could make it longer. “This isn’t yours.”
“Where’d you get it then?”
“Some random guy.”
He runs his finger over his bottom lip. “Act like you hate me all you want, but your drenched pussy tells me otherwise, you filthy liar.”
“Anyway,” I say, dragging the word out, “you said we’re leaving.”
I speed-walk past him and out of the bedroom, apparently having no regard that I’m not wearing shoes or pants. I’m not sure if it’s from the sleepiness or if I’m struggling with the overwhelming desire coursing through me.
I don’t look back but can hear his footsteps behind me as I walk downstairs. When I reach the front door, I stop, noticing the alarm keypad with a red light blinking. Benny turns off the alarm, blocking me from seeing the passcode, and we walk out into the chill of the night.
Benny tugs me close to his side as we walk to the Range Rover parked in the driveway, the engine still running. Three other vehicles with bright headlights are parked around it. He assists me into the passenger seat, blocking anyone from seeing me in my lack of decent clothing, and shuts the door behind me.
Like on the route to the mansion after the wedding, one vehicle drives in front of us and two follow. I rest my head against the window, the cold a relaxant against my cheek, and doze off.
The sound of a garage door opening wakes me. I lift my head, wiping drool from my chin, and look around as the door shuts.
