Page 11 of Wicked Praise


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Of himself.

And of her.

Shit.

It completely unnerved her. She’d never reacted to a man like this. She felt powerless and yet, desired.

For humility reasons alone, Bella had to take back control before she fell to her knees, begging him to touch her. Because that’s what she wanted.

Blake reached behind her, resting his arm on the back of her seat.

“So, listen.” She swallowed.

“Yes,” Blake crooned.

Jesus.

He needed to stop talking because his dark, silky voice felt like it was stroking the hot space between her thighs.

She cleared her throat. Then leaned in as if to share a state secret and lowered her voice. “Obviously, this is all about setting up these two, so I thought we could drop the act and just have fun.”

Blake leaned in. “What kind of fun were you thinking, Bella?”

Fire speared every cell in her body.

Jesus.

She just needed to get through dinner then, you know, wake up tomorrow and start planning to claim her family empire back.

“I—” Just as she was about to answer her breath hitched as Blake’s finger brushed ever so lightly across her shoulder blade.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

Lord, save me.

She had to get out of here as fast as she could tonight. Every instinct in her told her this man was dangerous.

Powerful and dangerous.










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