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“Where do you get off making a big deal over the money?” I spat. “Rubbing it all over me. It’s humiliating.”
“Mm-hm.” Another rolled-up bill trailed down my throat. I gasped. I arched my neck. Goddammit. “Are you into being humiliated?”
A wave rolled over me, popping my skin into goosebumps.
It said,what the fuck, Patrick?
It saidtell me more.
It said,yes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered. His eyes moved over my face. I was pretending to be confused and doing a shitty job of it.
“Don’t you?” he whispered back. “I saw you smile.”
One enormous hand slipped inside my v-neck and cupped my breast inside my bra. His cold, bare skin on mine.
“How wet are you right now?”
“Wet,” I breathed shamefully.
“I asked, ‘how wet.’” His voice was measured.
Jesus. I was pinned to the wall by a towering mountain of a guy, shaking, angry with him, and getting off on it. He squeezed my breast, massaging the swell of flesh. His fingers found my nipple and pinched the hard little bud to an aching point.
“Very wet,” I gasped.
“Now tell me again. Are you into being humiliated?”
“I’ve never done anything like that.”
“Do you want to? You asked if I’d be mean to you in bed. I saw how excited you were, Christina.”
“I’ll — try it,” I whispered.
A little smile played over his lips. “If you want to, then say so.”
“Yes,” I snapped. “Asshole. Yes, I want to.”
“Okay, then. I’m going to rub every one of these bills all over your naked body before I put them in your purse.”
“You’re sick.”
I clutched his broad back. Between my gloves and his wool coat, I couldn’t get a grip on him. My hands skated over his massive body. I couldn’t ignore his size. I couldn’t ignore anything about him.
His free hand pulled at the waistband of my leggings. Another bill, crisp enough to make me wriggle at the friction, slipped inside my panties.
“Jesus,” I breathed.
He kissed the base of my neck. He’d already figured out that was one of my spots. He let the waistband snap back to hold the bill in place against my hip. As a hot tongue licked my throat, icy fingers cupped my mound.
“Christina,” he whispered, drawing the syllables out. “You told me you were ‘very wet.’” He found my clit and pressed in through the sopping fabric. “I don’t think that describes what’s going on down here. You’re dripping. You’re fucking soaked. You’re a river of girl cum.”
“Thanks for the vocabulary lesson,” I panted. The snowy ground tilted under my feet as he stroked me through my panties. I couldn’t take being undone like this.
“You’re welcome.” Abruptly, he pulled his hand out of my leggings.Nooooo,my body whispered.Stay, stay, stay…I grabbed his hand and tried to pull it back to my crotch.
He freed himself with a satisfied smile. Then the ground fell away from me. I was scooped up, pressed against a hard chest, and carried across the snowy lawn. Stunned, I stared up at the purplish night sky, then twisted to see polished black shoes leaving prints in the grass.
