“Okay.” The snug polyester dress fits like a second skin. To prevent unattractive lines, I wore a tiny thong. Under his watchful stare, I reach beneath the hem of the dress, tug the silk side straps down my hips, and let them fall to the floor.
“Pick them up.” His throat clenches as he swallows. “Give them to me.” I bend over, gather the thong, and scrunch it in my hand. He extends a palm. My skin brushes his as I relinquish the underwear. At the electric buzz of his touch, my hissing breath shatters the silence. Without breaking our locked gazes, he stuffs the panties into his pants pocket and extends the ring on his pinky. “Your ring, madam.”
I slide the platinum band onto my left ring finger. The metal is cool and smooth to the touch. My attention bounces between the ring and the man in front of me. Both are rare. Both are beautiful. Both turn me on.
He bends slightly and slides his palms along the outsides of my thighs, dragging my dress up to my hips, baring my sex. I let him because I like this game. I like the desire in his eyes, and the power that desire gives me.
“What next?” The roughness in his voice lifts goosebumps on my forearms.
“The tennis bracelet?” I point to the first piece that I caught my eye when we walked into the room. He moves away long enough to secure the item before putting it on me. The diamonds catch the light. The pad of his thumb glides over the inside of my wrist. He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it. I shiver.
“Take it off, princess.” He releases my hand and steps back to watch. I pull the dress over my head and drape it over the counter. His dark eyes skim my shoulders, the necklace above my breasts, the curves of my hips, my pussy. One corner of his mouth curls upward. “You should always be like this. Naked and dripping in ice.” He skims hot, tickling fingertips over my collarbone. “When you’re mine, I’ll make sure of it.”
When you’re mine. The confidence in his statement implies it’s going to happen. Standing in the middle of his store, naked and covered in priceless jewels, the idea seems more probable than before. I can picture us together—fucking, fighting, and forever testing each other’s boundaries. Under the mesmerizing spell of the jewelry and his presence, I throw away caution. I place both hands on his shoulders then run them down his chest. He sucks in a breath.
I yank on the edges of his shirt, ripping open the front. “You know what I think? I think you’re wearing way too many clothes.” The buttons scatter across the floor. It’s the first time I’ve seen him surprised. Using the flat of my palms, I shove him toward the Victorian chaise. He sits with a shocked exhale. I reach for his belt, unfasten the buckle, and open his fly.
“If I’d known this would be your reaction, I would’ve brought you here a lot sooner,” he says with a smirk.
“Hush.” I press a kiss to his mouth before returning to my task.
He lifts his hips to help me remove his trousers and boxer briefs, but I keep his belt at my side. The thick length of his cock springs forward between us. I wrap my fingers around his shaft and tug. He grunts, a declaration of his pleasure. The velvet upholstery tickles my shins as I straddle his lap.
“And what do you think you’re going to do with that?” His gaze flicks to the belt in my hand then back to my face. There’s no apprehension in his eyes. Just lust and need. These naked emotions make my heart squeeze. Until Cash, I’ve never found a man who had enough confidence to let me take control. Kyle felt threatened whenever I tried to be assertive and overcompensated for his lack of confidence by knocking me around.
I wrap the belt around Cash’s neck, sliding the notched end through the buckle, and tighten it until his veins bulge. “Do you trust me?”
His bare ribs rise and fall. One breath follows another before he answers. “Yes.”
“Good.”
“There’s a condom in my wallet.” He nods toward his pants.
“Don’t move.” I clutch the leather strap next to the buckle, maintaining the tension, and bend to dig through his pocket. Once I’ve found the foil packet, I press it into his palm. “Put it on.”
I watch as he rips open the packet and slides the latex over his erection. His strong fingers move with the assurance of practice. When he’s done, his gaze flicks back to mine, ready for direction. I’m so wet. I can feel the dampness on my inner thighs. He drags a finger through my folds, finds the swollen nub, and circles it. A lightning bolt of pleasure zips through my pelvis. This is going to be so hot.
“You’re in charge, baby girl. Tell me what you want.” Beneath the strip of his moustache, the color of his lips redden like they’re anticipating my kiss.
I arch my back, thrusting my breasts upward. “Suck.”
“With pleasure.” He draws my left nipple into his mouth, tasting me. My nipple puckers and tightens. He flicks the tip with his tongue. Scrapes his beard over the sensitive flesh. The combination of wetness, texture, and suction brings my body to life. I dig the fingers of my free hand into his hair, holding him to me, wanting to draw out this moment forever. The ecstasy ends too soon. With a loud pop, he releases me.
“No one told you to stop.” I tug on the belt. His smile curves against my breast.
“Whatever you want.” A trail of kisses crosses my sternum as his attention focuses on the opposite nipple.
“That feels so good.” I let my head fall back and close my eyes. My body rocks forward. The head of his cock notches at the top of my pussy, eager to find relief. One slight adjustment will deliver him inside me. I release his hair to align his shaft with my entrance and slide onto it. We groan in tandem. The friction is delicious. I pulse my hips.
“I need your mouth,” he says. The hoarseness in his voice matches my ragged desire.
Our lips collide, open and greedy. His grunts join my whimpers of need. We writhe in unison. Each of his movements compliments mine in a dance so perfect it could have been choreographed. The antique chaise groans. Our skin slaps together. I abandon my hold on the belt and grip his shoulders. I forget to worry about payroll or mortgages or federal investigators. My world shrinks to one room. One man. One goal. I bounce on Cash’s lap, increasing the speed until we’re both glassy-eyed and panting. The blue diamond bounces between my breasts.
“I need more.” In one smooth motion, he wraps an arm around my waist and flips me onto my back. He has one foot on the floor, a knee on the chaise. With a gentle hand, he rests my leg on his shoulder. The position opens me. Allows him to drive into me. Once. Twice. Again and again. Each thrust scoots the chaise across the floor. His gaze locks with mine. “Come on, Jagger. Let go.”
The tendons in his neck strain. He’s holding back for me, waiting on my orgasm before seeking his own. The realization brings a rush of warmth into my heart. No man has ever put me first. It’s all I need to send me over the edge. My body tingles in an explosion of lights and colors. Cash rides my climax, stabbing into me between contractions, then stills with a primal growl.
A few minutes pass before coherent thoughts return. The scent of sex hangs heavily in the air. Cash lowers my leg from his shoulder and backs away to deal with the condom. Feeling unsteady, I place my feet on the floor and try to locate my clothing. Cash returns from the restroom, naked and unashamed. His rippled abdomen and muscular thighs inspire me to abandon the search for a moment. He stops in the center of the room. His gaze locks with mine. My tummy does a backflip. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re so beautiful.” The roughness in his voice suggests an emotion he can’t express with words. That break in his baritone gives me hope.
I trail a fingertip over the chain of the necklace, teasing him. “Are you complimenting me, Cash Delacorte? I’m not sure what to say.”
“Say thanks.” He bends, picks up my dress, and drops it on my lap. His fingers dig into the hair at the nape of my neck, guiding my face up to his for a kiss. A kiss so tender and gentle that my desire begins to resurrect.
“Thank you.”
He brushes a hand over my cheek,
along my jaw. “I’d like to do that again, but we should get out of here.” His attention turns to his clothing. He steps into his boxers then his pants.
God help me, I want more. More of his hot kisses. More of his long fingers. More of his enormous cock. And why not? He’s obviously into me. The sex is amazing. We’re both adults. There’s no reason that prevents us from carrying on a sexual relationship separate from the conflict of our professional lives. “We can go to my place.”
His smile returns. “I’m down for it.”
I slide the dress over my head and shimmy it down the length of my torso, tugging until the stretchy fabric is in place. When I glance up at him, he’s frozen in place, watching me, the open placket of his dress shirt framing his broad chest. Unapologetic lust flares in his expression. He rubs the back of his neck where the belt has left red, angry marks. The heat of mortification races up my neck. I did that to him. And he liked it. The realization excites me. We’re more alike than I ever anticipated. “What if I said I can’t get enough of you?”
“I’d say that makes two of us.” Two of his long strides bring us nose to nose. I could stare into those liquid brown eyes for hours without getting tired. He traces a fingertip down the side of my face. “Business first.” He envelops my hands in his. “Will you run this place for me, Jagger?”
“Are you using sex as a bargaining tool? I thought you were better than that.” I can’t help teasing him with his own words.
“I’m an opportunist. I use whatever tools are at my disposal. Something you should learn to do.” A self-deprecating smirk twists his mouth. “Say yes.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I remove my hands from his grip to straighten his collar. He lets me work, his gaze following every movement. Obedient Cash is more of a turn on than Domineering Cash, and that’s saying a lot. He could yank away my control without warning, but he chooses to submit because he wants this as much as I do. The subtle shift of power makes me dizzy. “Are you going to get the FBI off my back.”
The smile fades from his lips. “They have nothing on you or they would’ve arrested you. It was a fishing expedition. Nothing more.”
“Easy for you to say. They weren’t making threats in your living room.”
He’s silent. A mask of indifference shields his thoughts. Without warning, he’s shifted into his ruthless gang leader persona. “If you’re going to succeed in this business, you need to be able to handle the heat.”
“Spoken like a true dick.” My temper ignites. I smooth the hair away from my face. I should’ve known better than to fall for his kisses and smooth words. “Let’s go.”
“Wait.” After a lengthy exhale, he rubs the back of his neck, like he’s fighting an inner demon. His features relax. “If you’re that concerned, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” The fire cools in my veins. His respect for my concerns is welcome yet surprising. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“Will you come work for me?” With his hand on the small of my back, he ushers me toward the back door. I like his hand there, the way he claims me. His touch resurrects the war between my head and my body. I don’t want to trust him, but I definitely want him between my legs again. “Come on. Say yes. You know you want to.”
“I want sixty percent.”
“Fifty.” He captures my hands again and gives each set of knuckles a kiss.
“All right. Fifty percent.” My breath catches as he smooths his hands down my ribs, grabs my hips, and pulls me against him. The heat from his body burns through our clothing. I can feel the rise and fall of his ribs with each breath, smell his cologne, and still taste his peppermint candy on my tongue.
“I would’ve given you seventy percent.” Silent laughter shakes his body.
“I would’ve taken forty,” I reply right before he kisses me, and the world fades into a blur of diamonds and fireworks.
Six
Jagger
A hard fist pounds on my bedroom door. I groan and try to sit up, but an arm curls around my waist—a man’s arm—and draws me back against a warm chest. Memories of last night—and this morning—rush into my sleepy brain. Cash’s lips nibble on my earlobe. He’s here. In my bed. This isn’t a dream. It’s real, and I’m in heaven.
“Jagger!” By the volume of Emeline’s voice, she’s not happy about something. “Why is that car in the driveway? You said you were going to—” The pounding stops, and the door swings open.
“What time is it?” I wriggle out of Cash’s embrace and sit, clutching the sheet around my naked breasts.
“Good morning.” Cash props himself up against the headboard. The white bedding contrasts with his tanned skin. Beneath the sheet, his hand finds my thigh and squeezes, sending a pulse of need to my sex.
Em’s gaze bounces between Cash’s naked chest and my guilty face. “Jagger, could I speak to you in the hallway, please?”
“Sure. Give me a sec.” As soon as the door closes, I try to get out of the bed, but Cash draws me into his arms for a long, leisurely kiss. I drown in the softness of his lips and the dance of our tongues. Then I remember Em and swim back to the surface of reality. “I can’t. Em’s waiting.”
“Let her wait.” His fingers slide between my legs.
An uncharacteristic giggle bursts from my throat as we engage in a playful game where I try to climb out of bed and he drags me back. Finally, breathless, I roll onto the floor and hold out a hand to prevent him from following me. “No. Seriously. She’s pissed.”
He huffs a suffering sigh. “Fine.” The top of the sheet tents above his prominent erection. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Two minutes. I promise.” I throw on a bathrobe then bend down for a quick kiss before heading out to meet Em.
Outside my room, she’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, and a scowl on her face. “What the ever-loving fuck, Jagger? You said you were done with him.”
“Well, I thought so, but it seems I was wrong.” I have no idea how to explain the events of last night or my change of heart when I don’t understand it myself. The money—the diamonds—the sex. They’ve chiseled a crack into my dislike for him. And after last night? I’m blown away by our steamy chemistry. I’m not done with him. Not by a long shot.
“There is no scenario in the world where this—” She draws a circle between me and the bedroom door. “Ends well. One or all of us is going to end up in jail or dead.”
“I don’t think so.” I cross my arms, mimicking her stance. Her statement stirs my pigheaded nature. With the burn of Cash’s touch so fresh on my skin, I’m beyond coherent reason. I want him, and I’ll do anything to keep him. “He has a plan in place.”
“He’s a criminal, Jag. The bad guy.” She flails her hands in the air. “Wake up!”
“I know what I’m doing.” I trace a fingertip along my collarbone, remembering the silky glide of the diamond necklace over my flesh and the kisses that followed. “I’m going to run one of his stores for him. A secret, very exclusive place for high-profile customers. You should see it, Em. It’s off the hook. He’s giving me fifty percent of the business. Fifty percent!”
Her pretty face scrunches into an impatient scowl. “Open your eyes. Did you forget about the FBI dudes? What are you going to tell them when they come back? Because they will be back.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. Cash is going to take care of them.”
“You trust him to do that? Really?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“He’s the reason we’re in this mess.”
The euphoria of last night starts to fade. “I want to give him a chance.”
“And what about Tony? You can’t expect me to keep lying to him.” The toe of her red sandal taps on the floor.
“No. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” Now that I’m away from Cash’s pheromones, the implausibility of this situation settles over me. “Just give me time to see what happens.”
“I’m done w
aiting for you to take care of it. Everything you do gets us deeper into trouble.” She turns to leave.
“Wait.” I grab her elbow, feeling my temper stir. “Before you point your finger at me, the whole deal with Loretta was your idea.” She can’t look at me because I’m right. “Cash has ideas about expanding her business. I’m meeting with her this week. You’ll get thirty percent of the take. Are you ready to give that up? Do you want out of that too?”
“No.” Her gaze goes to the ceiling—the floor—anywhere but to me. “I think we should keep going.”
“So, it’s okay for Cash to be a part of that as long as he’s making money for us?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“And how did you get the money to pay off your ex-husband when he tried to come back into your life?” I never met the man, but I saw the scars left on her self-confidence by his mental abuse, and I’d been happy to help her get rid of him.
The tapping of her toe halts. “I blackmailed a senator.”
“So, your moral compass only applies to Cash then.”
“We’re not talking about me. This is about you and him. You always turn things around.”
“This is an incredible opportunity, Em. Cash isn’t the way I thought. He gave me back—” I want to tell her about the money, but she interrupts before I can finish.
“You’ve gone batshit crazy. He’s got you under some kind of spell.” She jerks her arm out of my grasp.
“Why are you being like this?” We’ve never fought over a guy before. Not like this. “I never said a word when you dated that guy who hacked into the White House emails. In fact, I helped you hide him out from the cops.”
“You promised never to bring that up.” Her eyes flash in warning.
“And I was there for you during your stint in rehab. Even though you hocked all of my belongings to buy cocaine—twice. Which you never repaid, by the way.”
Absolute Trust (Absolute Power Duet Book 2) Page 3