Chapter 26 Nobody’s Charity Case #2
One of his hands slipped behind my head, the other around my waist, and I was pulled onto his lap like I was no bigger than a house cat.
His mouth devoured mine with a ferocity that had only been hinted at before—similar to what he’d done that first day he’d shown up at my apartment. But hungrier somehow.
I understood the feeling because I was starving too.
“Fuck,” he muttered just before he slanted his mouth to deepen the kiss. Plunder like the pillaging prince everyone called him. “Jesus, Simone.”
I moaned as he sucked hard on my lower lip, then wound my ponytail around one hand and pulled. My hand slid under the lapel of his jacket, seeking purchase somewhere, anywhere. A button flew off his shirt.
His designer shirt.
His perfect suit.
Neither of us seemed to care.
“Brendan,” I gasped as his lips immediately traveled to my neck and sucked. Oh, that felt good. The man knew what he was doing.
“Yessss,” he hissed into the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Say my name just like that, you angel, you. Fuckin’ beg for mercy from your own personal devil. I want to hear it.”
“Brendan,” I whispered again as he bit my ear. “Brendan, please.”
“Fuck.”
He shifted us until I was straddling him in the wide leather seat, causing my skirt to ride up my thighs.
His hands slipped under the hem, finding bare handfuls of skin and squeezing as a guttural moan erupted from deep in his chest. He swallowed my own animalistic response, his tongue twisting around mine before his teeth caught my bottom lip and tugged.
“Jesus, Simone.” His hips moved, thrusting up enough to make me whimper. “What are you doing to me, angel?”
“B-Brendan,” I stuttered as he took a long lick over my throbbing pulse. “W-we need to stop.”
“What? No. I don’t want to. And neither do you.”
His hips rotated again underneath my seat, making it very clear just how badly he didn’t want to stop. Good God, it was like he had a couple of soda cans stacked together under that tailored wool. I couldn’t help the way my own body rolled into it, and we both groaned from the friction.
God, it had been so long.
But it had also never even come close to this.
And we still had our clothes on.
“You keep rubbing yourself on me like that,” he growled against my lips, his breath rough and ragged, “I won’t last two fuckin’ minutes.”
I ground down harder, shivering at his grunts, at how close to the edge I could push him.
Unable to think any more about what would happen, what should happen.
Unable to feel anything but his broad, warm body under mine, the insistent ridge, the way his hands kneaded my flesh like a Sunday pastry as he helped me rock shamelessly against him.
“You want to ride me here, you sweet thing?” He thieved another kiss. “Make yourself come on my cock, just like this?”
My body answered for me with every rock, every grind. Outside, Boston flickered and called into the night, but all I could feel was this man, the solid reality of him.
Brendan’s mouth traveled up my jaw and back to my ear, where his stubble tickled my lobe. “You’re right, angel. Nobody’s perfect. But you just might be perfect for me.”
His words unlocked some strange fury as I came. Every muscle I had tensed as my release flooded my system so intensely that I shouted his name into his chest as he held me through each and every shudder.
“Fuck, baby.” He shook under my quivering body. “That’s my girl. Jesus Christ.”
My breathing slowed. My body sagged against his chest. And then, slowly, reality crept back in.
Brendan’s driver was standing on the other side of the door like some kind of sentry for his prince’s escapades. We were parked in front of a four-star hotel in the back seat of a luxury sedan with windows that were not nearly tinted enough.
And I had just had the most intense orgasm of my life on the fully dressed lap of my fake fiancé.
What had I just done?
“Oh, God, Brendan.” I slid a shaky hand over my hair, which had half come out of its arrangement. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Stop.” The word cracked like a whip, his grip iron on my thighs. “If you say a word of regret right now, you can consider the contract null and void. And I’ll ask for my five million dollars back too.”
The mention of money struck harder than a slap. I scrambled off his lap, heat flooding my cheeks, shame weighing down my chest.
I tugged my skirt down, refusing to meet his eyes. Suddenly, all I could feel was how messy I must look, how cheap in my used clothes and amateur styling. The contract was supposed to protect me, keep this arrangement from becoming exactly what it had just become.
And now? I wasn’t sure if I’d just broken the rules—or myself.
“It’s just a business arrangement,” I managed. “I know that. I crossed a line, and I—it won’t happen again.”
My words sounded like they’d come from somewhere else because inside, all I could hear was my soul screaming for more.
More kisses.
More touching.
More Brendan.
A sly expression spread across his face, telling me he understood the tug-of-war going on inside my mind. Slowly, he leaned across the back seat to press another kiss just under my jaw. “Sweet, sweet Simone. Haven’t you ever heard of mixing business and pleasure? Or contract amendments?”
Oh God, if he kept twirling his tongue like that, I was going to yank my skirt back up for round two. “Brendan…”
He adjusted his trousers and groaned. “You can’t know the effect it has on me when you say my name like that.”
“You like being chided?”
“Maybe I just like that someone cares enough to want me to do the right thing.”
It begged the question: if his family weren’t putting pressure on him to do the “right thing,” what exactly were they putting pressure on him to do?
He didn’t wait for me to ask as he sat up. “You’re right, I know. This won’t happen again. Not unless you kiss me first. Again.”
For that, he earned a smack on the shoulder, which only made him laugh, full-throated and deep from his belly.
It was maybe the best sound I’d ever heard.
“Dinner?” he wondered. “Or do you want to take that dress to the opera or a show? It deserves to be seen by someone who doesn’t want to rip it off you in the back of his car.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I actually think you tore it. And my mascara has to be down to my neck. If I’m being honest, the only thing I want to do is take my puffy face upstairs, draw myself a bath, and forget this day ever happened.”
“Fair enough. But tomorrow, we’re going to take care of this problem completely.”
He knocked on the door, which the driver quickly opened, then got out before turning for me. I hopped out behind him after wiping my face with a tissue. My eyes were swollen, but at least my makeup wouldn’t be too smeared when the doormen caught sight of me.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked as we entered the building.
Brendan waved hello to one of the doormen, keeping my hand in his on our way to the elevator.
He pressed the call button before turning to me.
“I’m taking the day off. We need to be seen together, and you need to get some respect.
I dare them to kick you out tomorrow when I’m with you.
I dare them to treat you like anything other than the love of my fuckin’ life.
” He bared his teeth. “First the shopgirls. Then my family.”
He snapped his fingers one by one, like the action snuffed out his enemies just as easily.
And while I appreciated the gallantry and the help with a task I clearly needed to do, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I were the object of one of Brendan’s snaps.
And how quickly, if he wanted, could I be snuffed out?