4. Suzette
SUZETTE
W hat the fuck just happened?
I’m not certain how I made it downstairs from his office with his hand splayed across my lower back, in front of anyone who dared to look. My legs are weak and there’s an odd mix of satisfaction and nervousness that has my head clouded.
Adrian Bradford just fucked me across his desk like I was his personal toy. The feel of him between my legs is all I can focus on. How effortlessly he destroyed every wall I’ve built and fucked me like he had every right in the world to ruin me.
I’m barely with it as he helps me to his car until he speaks to his driver, who politely greets me before opening the back door. Adrian says something to him that I don’t quite make out because I’m still catching my breath from the sex.
The cool spring air brings me back to the present as I thank his driver. He’s an older gentleman with a lean frame and silver hair. His wire-rimmed glasses and black suit complete his polished look.
“Thank you,” I say, barely getting out the words before I’m left alone in the back of the car, until Adrian climbs in on his side.
It’s a Mercedes, one of the new ones from this year, and it smells like he just drove it off the lot. Adrian’s driver rolls up the divider that separates the spacious back seat from the front the moment he gets in.
Adrian sprawls out on the seat next to me as the driver navigates the city streets.
He’s on his phone like nothing happened and I try to act like nothing happened too.
I’m having a bit of trouble with that. He seems casual, swiping at the screen and no doubt answering emails, but there’s tension crackling between us.
No matter how hard he tries to make this into nothing, it’s anything but.
Gaining a semblance of balance and sanity, I peer up at him and say, as clearly as I can, “I’m not a toy to be played with.”
He glances at me, then slips his phone into his back pocket. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”
My face reddens. “I did. But that doesn’t mean it can continue or that my job …” my voice trails off and I can barely swallow. What the fuck did I just do?
He studies me with his pale blue gaze. “Would you like it, though?” There’s far too much space between us in the back seat of his car.
Adrian’s taking care not to touch me. It feels deliberate.
He doesn’t move his body toward me or reach for me, but I can still feel his hands on me from just a moment ago.
I can feel where he gripped my ass and held me close for a kiss by my neck, and where he stroked between my legs.
“Would you like it if I toyed with you again?” he asks, his voice low and his words sinful.
The rest of my body feels as hot as my face. Now that we’re out of the office and away from the moment, I can’t believe it happened. What was I thinking? I can’t answer him, because I’m not sure of myself enough to speak. It’s all too much and far too fast. Suffocating.
“I’d like an answer, Suzette,” he says and his murmur is laced with something different. Concern.
Swallowing thickly, I admit, “I enjoyed it very much, but now?—”
“I enjoyed it immensely and I intend to toy with you, to fuck you until you’re as limp as a little ragdoll, and to walk back into the office tomorrow knowing full damn well you may give me hell.”
The leather groans in protest as he leans back, moving farther away as he studies me. “Nothing that just happened will interfere with our work,” he reassures me.
With a jostle of the vehicle, the driver pulls the car to the curb, and I blink at the scenery outside my window. The Waldorf, another public arena for his games … and a far too expensive one at that. I murmur, “You should take me home.”
He’s silent for a moment, just watching me. “If that’s what you’d like. I believe I owe you more than just a drink, though, Suzette.”
Hearing my name from his lips like that … like every syllable rolls off his tongue as if he was the first to utter them, turns me even hotter. It also makes me speechless, which isn’t like me at all. None of this is like me at all. I don’t get swept up into anything.
Adrian holds me in place with his piercing gaze. “I’d very much like to play with you, Suzette. I’d like to kiss you. I’d like to fuck you. And not just because you’re a pretty little thing who stormed into my office making demands you have no authority to make.”
With every word, he inches closer to me until he’s close enough to kiss me.
The proximity is comforting in a way I don’t care to admit.
Adrian actually leans down and does it. He kisses me full on the mouth, his lips steady and confident.
When he pulls back I have to keep my hands in my lap from grabbing his shirt.
“It was a brutal day, and the only thing that kept me grounded and kept me looking forward to tonight was the very idea that you were coming to my office to do exactly what you did.” His admission shocks me.
“Adrian …”
“You may see me as ruthless and heartless, and you may not like what I do, but I’d like to see you again. In and out of the office.”
It’s strange for him to admit this to me.
Most men won’t ever acknowledge they’re aware of other people’s feelings.
Men like Adrian aren’t supposed to care what anyone else thinks.
It’s possible he doesn’t care, but at least he’s aware of it.
It causes a shift in the way I see him. The hatred softens and becomes something else.
“When the workday is over, there are other things we must do. And then there are things that we want to do.” He leans in closer, whispering at the shell of my ear, “I want you.”
His hand comes down on my knee and without hesitation he pushes it up between my legs, forcing my skirt up as his fingers brush against my slit.
It’s the softest of touches and my eyes close, my lips parted and my head falling back.
Adrian lets out a groan, the tip of his nose running along my neck, teasing me. “You didn’t put your panties back on.”
I shake my head, unable to speak. I didn’t. I tucked them into my purse, not liking their condition after … well, after what he did to me. Adrian dips his head again, close enough to kiss, and I want it so much that tears come to my eyes. I’m not even sure what they mean. Adrian seems to know.
“You,” he says, “are exactly what I want.”
He takes a deep breath and then exhales, the warmth of it lingering as he pulls away slightly.
Trapped in his car, every sensation feels heightened, knowing how easy it is for him to admit his desire.
I become aware of his hands. One holds the seat behind me, just above my head, and the one that was between my legs is now braced against the door, like he must hold on to something to keep him from touching me.
From doing whatever it is he so desperately craves to do.
Adrian’s eyes close for a moment and when he opens them, he seems steadier than before.
“If you’d like to go home, I’ll take you home.
I’ll have my driver take you wherever you need.
Though I’d very much like to take you to dinner. ”
“I’m not dressed for this place.”
“We could go somewhere else.”
“You have reservations,” I say and my pulse races, not wanting me to deny him … or myself.
“That’s a weak excuse, Suzette.” Disappointment flashes across his face, and surprise grips my heart.
I’m surprised I care about his disappointment and I’m even more shocked that I want to go to dinner with him.
He feels dangerous, like he could crush me if he wanted.
Yet I find myself wanting to be under his thumb, wondering what he’ll do to me.
I don’t know where I’m supposed to draw the line, though. This is … this is something that could certainly destroy me, and then what would I have left?
I imagine how it will feel to have the car pull away from the curb and drop me at my place. And then I imagine what it would be like to let him help me out of the car and take me inside this restaurant. Both options leave me wanting, but only one feels safe.
“Is it a business dinner?” I ask, keeping my voice low and even.
A grin tugs the corners of his mouth upward. “No. It’s after six.”
“If someone asks?” A bit of desperation creeps into my tone, and I can’t stop it. “Could it be a business dinner if someone were to see us?”
“You’d like to be discreet?”
I have to be discreet. I don’t even know what this is. A hate fuck turned into a dinner date? There’s no telling what I might want to keep hidden later.
“Yes,” I answer. “Please. It would make me feel better.”
He seems to consider it, searching my expression as we sit in the back of the parked car. “Would you like to see me again after tonight?”
There’s a pressure in my chest, like a balloon getting filled up with helium.
It reminds me of the excitement I felt when I was young and dumb and dating.
Before I got married and everything went to shit.
There was a period in my life when it seemed like anything could happen.
That woman would revel in this moment. But that woman got her heart ripped out long ago. She’s long dead and buried.
“It depends,” I finally make myself say. “On how our discreet dinner goes.”
Adrian smirks, charming and seductive, making him all the more handsome.
It sends a shiver of desire down my spine.
I already want him again. Even at this point there’s so much heat between us and it seems impossible to turn it down.
Above all, I want to see him smile at me with approval.
I’ve never been a people pleaser. I’ve always been about making change, and change is often uncomfortable for others.
Part of me still wants to please him. I want to hear him call me his good girl again.
“So you’ll come to dinner with me and then decide? That’s a fair deal.”