Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Marie
Oh, my God.
I’m an idiot.
Literally an idiot.
I came here to share information with him, to get on the same page—okay, no. I came because it’s important for him to know this, but it didn’t—or maybe it shouldn’t —have come before me telling Attie.
And then, instead of after relaying my information to Agent Phillips, calmly telling Jace about what I discovered, I throw a fit. In front of Brooks freaking Saxton no less.
Another billionaire.
This of the quieter variety.
He’s not in the press much, and he lives out of the country, but I know he controls an important investment fund that has had its hands in many a Bay Area tech start up.
He’s also in crypto.
And…I’m losing my mind.
Having a temper tantrum in front of him, yelling at Jace like a psycho, and worst of all, doing it so intensely that I fucking forgot why I was here.
Dumb.
Dumb.
“Cookie—” Jace begins as I shove away from him and start sprinting toward my bag.
I want to snatch it up and run out of here, but I know this is more important than my crippling embarrassment.
“Freeze right there.”
The tone is one I haven’t heard from him before.
Hell, I don’t think I’ve heard it from anyone, not even Jean-Michel when he’s at his bossiest.
And it doesn’t do what I would expect—doesn’t raise my hackles and have me snapping at him again.
Instead…I freeze, phantom fingers stroking me between my thighs, heat blooming in my middle.
And he seems to recognize it too.
“You like that.”
“No.” My throat works, and I will my feet to carry me forward, but I can’t make them move, not as I hear his footsteps as he prowls toward me.
He shifts my hair, sliding it over the opposite shoulder, lips coming to my ear. “You do.”
“I—”
His hand settles on my waist, drawing me back against him.
“Should we talk about why you came?” he asks silkily, mouth drifting along my jaw, tracing lightly enough to make me shiver against him.
“I—”
“Or should we discuss why you’re turned on when I gave you an order? Or maybe”—his lips press to my throat—“I should order you to get naked and place your hands flat on the desk.”
Heat scorches me from the inside, and I know he feels it when I tremble, when my knees threaten to give way, when my hips arch back against him, ass rubbing against the hardening length of his erection. “We sh-should talk about why I came.”
“Hmm.” A flash of teeth. “Okay then, gorgeous. Tell me why you’re here.”
“I figured it out.”
His hand has been trailing up and down my side, and it doesn’t stop. “The connection between Titan Capital and Genen-core?”
“Mmm— ah! ” I gasp when his fingertips brush the bottom of my breast.
“What’s that, cookie?”
“Yes,” I manage to push out. “I found the connection.”
“And is that connection going to change in the next thirty—” A beat as his palm slides down, cupping my hip, drawing me more firmly against him. “Scratch that. The next forty-five minutes?”
Forty-five minutes of this man touching me, holding me, kissing and stroking and fu?—
“No,” I rasp. “It’s not going to change.”
A rough chuckle. “Good.”
He steps back, and I wobble slightly.
He steadies me but doesn’t come close again, doesn’t kiss my skin or stroke his hands over me or hold me close.
Instead, he moves to the door and locks it.
Then to the wide plate glass windows and closes the blinds.
“Marie,” he says and that firm tone has my head jerking up, has desire gathering between my thighs. “Take off your…”
My heart skips a beat.
My knees tremble again.
“…shoes, cookie.”
A curl of disappointment. But also a thrill of excitement.
Because am I doing this? Is this happening? Is?—
“ Gorgeous.”
My eyes fly back to his.
“Shoes.”
Pulse skittering through my veins, I step out of my shoes, kicking them to the side. But when I reach for the lapels of my jacket, he tuts.
“I didn’t tell you to take that off yet.”
I freeze, another thrill sliding through me. I like it—these orders—and probably more than I should. But I’m also still me. So, even though I don’t tear off my jacket out of spite, I still say, “Kind of hard for me to get naked and bend over the desk if you won’t let me take off my clothes, handsome.”
His mouth curves, and the sexy smile has that desire between my legs growing.
Especially as he saunters toward me. “Smart,” he murmurs, trailing a finger along the row of buttons on my blouse. Down, down , down it goes.
And so does he, kneeling in front of me, reaching for my foot, and?—
I moan as his strong fingers begin massaging, soothing the aching toes, the sore arch, the tight ankle in long, sure strokes. He doesn’t say anything and I’m not capable of a response as he pays homage to my feet over the next several minutes, first one and then the other, thoroughly reducing me to goo.
Then he pauses, one of my feet on his broad, strong thigh, and looks up at me. “Take off your jacket, gorgeous.”
My throat works.
Then I oblige, lifting my hands to the edges of my blazer, dragging it down my arms.
He catches it before it puddles to the floor, draping it carefully over the chair.
“Is this when I get naked?” I ask.
He grins before he lifts my foot to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the top of it. Then he’s setting it on the floor, slowly standing.
He stands close but doesn’t touch me.
Hot hazel eyes on mine. They slowly drift down my body, and that stare is almost a physical thing, stroking over my nipples, down my abdomen, dipping between my legs.
“Take your shirt off,” he orders quietly
I almost jump to comply with the order, hands jerking up toward my buttons?—
“Slow down, cookie.”
I listen, fingers shaking slightly as I undo the fastenings, incrementally revealing my naked flesh. It’s harder to keep my movements steady when despite the calm voice, the steady expression, I don’t miss his eyes going even hotter and his hands clenching into tighter and tighter fists with each inch of my skin that’s exposed.
He wants to touch.
But he also knows I’m getting off on this—well, he is too, considering the erection tenting his pants.
Still, it’s more than desire I’m feeling, at least for a moment.
Because he’s trying something that I like, for no other reason than…I like it.
And I know there’s no going back.
I’m falling for this man.
“Stop there,” he orders, his voice more rasp than anything when I reach the last button.
“Still not naked,” I breathe.
A twitch of his lips. “Undo the button on your pants.”
I flick it open.
“The zipper too.”
The ziiip is loud in the quiet office.
“Push the fabric down.”
I nudge at the loose material at my waist and my pants drop to the floor. I inhale in a rush when the cold hits my bare skin, but it’s his groan that really captures my attention.
“Fuck, gorgeous,” he growls. “You wear that under those prim and proper clothes?”
My gaze drifts down to the black lace, and I’m about to confess that I put it on because I was thinking about him this morning.
But he orders, “Shirt off,” and I hurry to comply.
He doesn’t gather my pants or my blouse, just leaves them in crumpled piles on the floor as he steps closer, those eyes taking in every inch of me. “Fuck me,” he growls. “You are so damned beautiful.”
My heart leaps.
And then my pussy spasms.
Because he orders, “Turn around and put your hands flat on the desk.”