Unbuttoned by the Boss: Unbuttoned by Her Maverick Boss / The Far Side of Paradise / Rub It In
- -
- 100%
- +
‘It’s no joke. And it’s not over.’ She tickled her fingers up the underside of his arms—his biceps bulging as he tried to rip free of the ribbon again. ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘I won’t hurt you.’
The tenor had changed completely—he really wasn’t comfortable with this, was he? She studied him. Raw, vulnerable, yet fiercely proud. Something pulled deep in her heart. This powerful, independent man was at her mercy—and he didn’t like it.
And what had begun as an almost kinky, definitely playful tease, turned devastatingly intense. She spread her fingers wide, ran her palm slowly up the centre of his chest, feeling the warm skin, up to where she could feel the thudding of his heart. Had he ever lain back and just let someone love him?
No. He never had. And he didn’t want to let her now.
But she wanted to love him—so much. And just this once, she would.
She moved off him, knelt at his side and started—slowly—even more slowly than when he’d tormented her that first time. She touched him, forgot time as she felt him, entranced in her exploration in seeing how she could make him respond. Making love to every inch of his skin and trying to go deeper—right into his bones, into his heart. He said nothing. Nor did she. But his breathing changed. She watched the straining in his body—knew what he wanted. She was breathless too—filled with yearning. She kissed him all over, her fingers either trailing or kneading every part of him—but the most obvious. She was saving the best bits ’til last. It was too wonderful to rush it.
But eventually she moved closer—her hands working together in sweeping circles—ever decreasing—narrowing in on her target. She heard his breath catch.
‘Sophy.’
She smiled and took him in her mouth. His harsh groan was the sweetest melody to her ears. He moved beneath her—arching, seeking.
‘I want to touch you,’ he ground out, his hips rising—chasing her caresses.
‘You already are.’ It was her turn to be fiercely proud— of the way she could make his powerful body buck, of the way she could make him cry out for her. The pleasure she could give him. She wanted to make him feel joy—as being with him filled her with joy. And the feelings surged through her, she lifted up looked down into his eyes. The beautiful eyes that she loved.
She kissed him like crazy—pouring it all into him. He met her, his kiss equally fervent. Then his body went rigid beneath her as he strained to be free of the bonds, but the knots held.
‘I have to have you.’ He sounded so raw. ‘Please.’
Finally she couldn’t take it any more herself—needed to feel him deep within her. She straddled him. Held his pulsing erection in her hand and sank onto him in one swift movement. They both cried out. He arched up, trying to lead the rhythm, but she pushed her hands down on his shoulders, using them as anchors so she could ride him hard—her way. She threw her head back as the bliss ravaged through her.
‘Sophy, Sophy, Sophy.’
She looked back down into his eyes as she heard his agonised call to her. Saw him stripped bare. The vulnerability unconcealed—the bottomless depth of need in him revealed. Her fingers tightened on him as she saw the anguish there. She leaned forward to kiss him again—a kiss offering all she had. And felt the shudders racking him as he accepted it.
A long time later she still lay on him, running her hand gently over his chest as she felt his heartbeat slow. She said nothing, didn’t expect him to either—and he didn’t. Eventually she moved, lifting to look at him. His eyes were closed, his brow smooth. She pulled the coverings up. He’d gone to sleep. She reached down to the floor and got the scissors. She caressed his jaw, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. And then she snipped the ribbon.
He moved faster than she’d ever have thought possible. Grasping both her hands in his, he flipped her onto her back, his eyes open and blazing as he crushed her half beneath his body. The scissors clattered to the floor. Breathless, she twisted her head to the side—could see the red marks on his wrists from where he’d fought against the knots. She bit her lip, braced as she looked back into his face—afraid of the anger she would find there.
But the flames weren’t frightening. Instead the faintest smile appeared as he pushed down to emphasise each word. ‘No one. But. You.’
Chapter Nine
LORENZO could hear Sophy playing with the necklace—picking it up, rolling the beads between her fingers, letting it drop. And then picking it up again. He kept his gaze on the dark grey bitumen that was fast sliding under the car. The airport was a rush of bodies and noise and interminable waiting—even though they arrived only five minutes before the check-in for their flight closed. Too soon they landed in Auckland. Too soon he was driving her home.
And he was not going in with her.
‘Are you pleased with your designs?’
She nodded, dropping the necklace against her skin once more.
‘I’ll take them back to the warehouse. You can do any finishing there this week.’ He couldn’t bring himself to sever it completely. Not yet.
‘Thanks.’ She didn’t look him in the eye. And he didn’t look for long to see if she did.
Breathing space. He couldn’t wait to be alone so he could reclaim his equilibrium. Alone was good. Alone was comfortable—this wasn’t. The discomfort was bigger than the silence that ballooned between them.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone. The shock on her face sent a welcome flash of pleasure through him. Yeah, she’d forgotten he had it. She’d forgotten everything else the whole weekend except her work. And him.
That pleased him far too much, and in the wake of the warm glow the discomfort barged back.
‘See you tomorrow, Sophy.’ He drove away as soon as she was out of the car.
Something had changed. He knew when it had, but he wasn’t sure how. She’d held him and he’d been more vulnerable than ever before in his life. But it wasn’t because she’d bound his hands.
He didn’t care to think about what had happened—what he might have revealed or what she thought she might have seen. But the need to have more of what she’d given had driven him. Just for today he’d taken it—holding her, playing with her, laughing like the carefree kid he’d never been. She’d done some work—not that much—they’d swum, they’d rested. A lovely, lazy Sunday for anyone normal.
But he wasn’t normal—was fundamentally different from most and especially someone like Sophy with her perfect world and her perfect family. And now—back on normal ground—he was feeling more alien than ever.
Restless in his apartment, he tried to catch up on some work—went through the motions of checking his messages. He felt as if he’d stolen someone else’s life for a day and he was going to get caught out any moment. His heart pounded the way it had when he was a kid and had known trouble was coming. His concentration splintered, reformed—focused on only one thing.
He went down to the room she’d taken as a workshop. Went into the cupboard at the back and pulled out the crate of paint. Twelve hours later he was still working on it in his office, hating the way he was so wired about seeing her.
‘Stay late tonight—I’ve got something to show you.’ He poked his head into her office halfway through the next day, not staying to explain, glad she had the temp with her so he couldn’t go and kiss the hell out of her as he wanted. He was a touch embarrassed. She might not like what he’d done. And wasn’t he just getting himself in an even stickier mess? He should be pulling away, not going in deeper.
Lorenzo was no stranger to hardship—well used to going without. So a bit of abstinence should be nothing. But she was the first thing—the only thing—that he wasn’t sure he could give up.
He’d noticed she was missing something for the show and he was certain she hadn’t had time to do it herself. She was up to her neck just trying to get the pieces done. She came to his office on the dot of five. He’d abandoned work hours ago—had been shooting hoops half the afternoon, was now sitting waiting.
‘It’s upstairs.’ He almost blushed. But the screen of his computer up there was bigger—that was why—not because up there was private and had his huge bed waiting. She said nothing, just followed. He swung the computer screen round so she could see. ‘I did some designs for you. If you want to use any I can get them printed.’
She stopped in front of the computer and stared at the images he’d pulled up. ‘For business cards?’
He nodded. ‘And labels for each piece—you can write on the details by hand or do them on the computer individually.’
Her eyes were wide as she bent to take a closer look. ‘You’re a man of many talents, aren’t you?’
‘Some good, some not so good.’
‘Lorenzo, they’re amazing.’ She looked so thrilled he was even more embarrassed. ‘I can’t believe you did this for me.’
He shifted uncomfortably. ‘It didn’t take anything. It’s really easy.’ Okay, it hadn’t been that easy. He’d stayed up half the night painting and then spent half the morning getting them into digital form. And then playing some more with them.
‘I won’t mind if you don’t want to use them.’
‘Of course I want to.’ She was already fiddling with the mouse, tapping words. ‘Lorenzo, this is fantastic. Thank you so much—I love them.’
‘Okay.’ He felt the relief whistle through him. ‘Well, you want to work on them now? Then I’ll get them printed. You’ll be right on schedule.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.