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“Three seconds, Mia. Get in the car,” I repeat. “Or should I ask Donna to send someone else to assist?”
An asshole move, but I never said I was a gentleman.
This job is important to her. I could see her nerves when Donna discovered the unfortunate incident earlier.
Her eyes narrow.
“I’m not coming home with you,” Mia almost growls, and my lips twitch.
Yes, you are.
She has far more fire than I anticipated, and that excites me. Breaking tigers is much more arousing.
I nod to Mack, who begins to walk back inside.
“Wait,” she calls out, and Mack—who knew as well as I did he wouldn’t get more than two steps—halts.
I raise another brow.
“I’m not stripping outside the fucking convention center, Mia. You’ve been instructed to take my dry cleaning. I will undress at home, and then you can take it with you,” I say. “So, get in the goddamn car.”
She glares at me, then finally nods.
As she climbs in, I hear a faint mumble, something about baring my stupid chest earlier, and I grin.
“Let’s go,” I say, my smile disappearing, then I climb in after her.
MIA HAS POSITIONEDherself in the furthest spot from me in the limo. When the car pulls away, she removes a device from her ear and the god-awful fanny pack wrapped around her body and drops them on the seat beside her.
Only then does she lift her eyes to mine.
Neither of us speak during the fifteen-minute drive. Instead, Mia fidgets, blushes, slides on a lip gloss, swallows repeatedly, and lowers her eyes to my crotch as I undo my sleeves and roll them up.
I wonder if she noticed my cock twitch.
If my observations are right, she’s currently counting her breaths, trying to lower her heart rate.
Adorable.
I wonder what she’s thinking while I focus on whether I’ll fuck her over the sofa, in my bedroom, or on the sweeping balcony of my penthouse.
The kitchen bench wins.
I want to lick her pussy, taste her, then tie her up on my bed and see which of my toys her body likes the most. Though I’m not a betting man, I won’t be putting my money on a butt plug. She’s way too innocent.
God, she better not be a virgin.
I won’t take her virginity.
“I could’ve picked it up in the morning,” Mia finally says, shaking her head as if kicking herself.
Yes, she could’ve.
If I’d let her. Which I hadn’t.
As we pull up outside my building, I lean my arms onto my knees and lock eyes with hers. Electricity shoots through me, and I swear the temperature skyrockets to about a thousand degrees inside the car. She’s lucky I’m not pulling her onto my lap—I really fucking want to touch her.
“Come upstairs, Mia. You can take it when you leave. What we do between now and then is up to you,” I say darkly, leaving no question about what I’m offering. What I’m wanting.
