Series: Penny Dee
Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
It only heats the demand of my pulsing need between my thighs as he says, “Yes.” He sits back on the sofa, not once taking his eyes off me as he takes a sip of his drink.
I like how he watches me dance, how I can feel him all over me without even touching me. I love how taboo and reckless this is.
I swipe a lighter from the counter beside a container of cigars as I slowly walk over to him. He wants to see more of my unhinged self. Sometimes I think men should be careful about what they wish for. But if anyone can handle it, it’s Silas Vescari. If not, I’ll take great pride in scaring him away. Or even better, being pinned down for what I’m about to do.
The next song starts, and I can’t help but smile. I love this playlist. I wonder if he picked it intentionally. It’s different from what I listen to when I work, though right now the last thing I am thinking about is work. I swing my hips as Sophie B. Hawkins sings through the sound system, “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover.”
He doesn’t make a move as he watches me dance. I close my eyes and tip my head back, holding the glass in my hand, singing every word as if it were me. The alcohol from earlier is already leaving me, and only a slight buzz remains. When the chorus starts, I turn to find him still watching me, his drink untouched and a look of want—no, almost need—on his face. I keep singing the words, swaying my hips until I’m standing in front of him. He opens his legs a little farther, then reaches up to the back of my thighs and pulls me even closer.
“Do you like playing with fire, Silas?” I ask, flicking the lighter, hyperaware of his calloused hand sliding up the back of my leg.
He’s still watching me, always assessing as I bring my glass to his lips and curl my hands around his throat. “Don’t swallow.”
His lips tug as I casually lean to one side of his body, flicking the lighter to ignite a small flame. My stomach gets giddy as I think about how this will go. Will he step up to the challenge? Any sane person wouldn’t. But I want to push this man. Make him realize it was a bad idea to ever get mixed up with me, so I can have my hit tonight and never have to worry about him again.
He wanted to see this unhinged part of me, but the truth of it is, only a few have ever dared to play when they see her.
His mouth is full of the rest of my liquor as I tug a vicious smile and look at the flame. “Now blow.” He raises an eyebrow, and that glint of challenge is in his gaze. “Just so you know, if you don’t blow hard enough, there’s a high probability that—”
He spits so hard, the flames explode outward, and I immediately turn the lighter off, my heart racing. My pussy turns into liquid warmth as sweat immediately breaks out over my shoulder.
His gaze bores into mine, that crackling tension only heightening my pounding heart. Without a second thought, he removes the empty glass from my hand, places it carefully next to his on the small table, and then his hand is back on my thigh, holding me close to him.
“Did you think that would scare me, Little Raven? Surely, you can do better than that.” Little Raven… That’s new, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is how my heart pounds, surprised and elated by how easily he takes control of the situation. He’s like the cold storm to my fiery chaos, but only when I let her out.
And often only when she needs to protect herself.
I wipe over his bottom lip, mesmerized. “Looks like they didn’t melt away. Still kissable, I suppose,” I say, my voice dripping with lust. This perfect, beautiful, ruthless fucking man.
“Leonore.” He says my name as if it’s almost a request, but nothing follows.
I’m actually going to do this, go against everything I say I will never do. Why? Because my best friend said I need to get laid?
No, though that did start the thought of it, not that I didn’t already think about what it would be like to have him between my legs, especially after I felt what I could be working with. No, it’s him. Pure, powerful magnetism that pulls me in. It’s become harder to resist.
“Silas, you should remove my shirt now.” He sits up farther and untucks my shirt, pulls it over my head, leaving me in only my high-waisted skirt and bra. His hands are no longer on the back of my thighs as he reaches for me and pulls me down until I fall into his lap, my knees now on either side of his legs as I sit on him.