I found her pushing up on her toes to reach a jar on a high shelf. Her calves lengthened, the hem of her dress shifted up her glorious thighs. The backs of her persimmon shoes fell away from her heels as she stretched.
"Mr. Guillmand," she murmured. She didn't bother glancing in my direction. Didn't look away from the spices before her. "I see you've returned."
"Miz Malik," I said, her name nothing more than a sigh. "I believe you've been caught."
"Then," she panted, trying once more to grab the jar, "come catch me."
One urgent stride put me behind her but it was another step that aligned her full backside with my crotch. My hand found her hip, squeezed that supple curve. I traced the length of her arm from shoulder to fingertip as I tapped the jar. "This one?"
She nodded, hummed.
I retrieved the saffron, pressed the glass between her breasts. Her body stiffened but she allowed another hum, another nod. "Yes," she breathed. "That."
"You're such a good girl," I said, my words little more than a hiss as I spoke directly to the tender skin below her ear. "So fucking good, aren't you?"
"Yes," she whispered, her head bobbing once.
That was all she'd offer. A whisper, a nod. Nothing else. She didn't allow herself much but she allowed me far more. And now that I was here, I intended to take everything I wanted. Not because I was an egotistical bastard—despite Miz Malik's impression of me—but because she wanted me to take everything she had to give.
Hell, if she'd meant to cut me off, she would've left. She wouldn't be here, glaring at spices,waiting for me.
"Neera." My fingertips grazed her torso and found her nipple, stiff through her dress, and—if I wasn't mistaken—the hard nub of a barbell too. "Can you give me a single reason why I shouldn't pull up this skirt and taste your cunt right here?"
She swiveled her head from side to side, wiggled her fingers at her side. If my words stunned her, it didn't show. "None that I can think of."
I shifted my other hand from her hip, laced my fingers through hers. I placed her hand on her skirt, over the vee between her legs. Together, we stroked and circled until her head fell back on my shoulder and that hum was a beautiful moan. She rocked her ass against my aching cock. "Don't say things you don't mean, sparrow."
She fired a searing glance over her shoulder.
I had to mentally negotiate my way out of biting her neck for that look. Biting her neck, unbuttoning my fly, fucking her while a wall of spices crashed around us. I saw it in brutal oil paint like the exquisite disaster we were, a field of broken glass at our feet and a cloud of color and scent rising around us.
"Good girls don't get fucked in public." I licked my way up her neck, my face buried in her hair. If her cunt tasted anything like her neck, I wanted to drown between her legs. "Good girls don't let the world see them come."
She rocked against our joined hands and touching her over her clothes was no longer adequate. I needed much more. "You're baiting me."
"You're damn right I am, Miz Malik." I bunched her skirt in my fist, rucking it up inch by inch. "Is it working?"
A laugh rolled through her body before it burst over her lips. "I believe you know it is, Gus."
The portion of my brain dedicated to rational judgment quieted to a whisper as the hedonistic portion let out a primal roar. "Don't you ever want to do something bad, little sparrow?"
She dipped her chin, watching as the front of her skirt lifted just enough for our fingers to meet the damp fabric of her panties.
Anyone could've walked by.
Anyone could've heard her sigh in pleasure as we worked her clit.
Anyone could've watched my cock spreading the plump curve of her ass.
Anyone.
And she wanted it—needed it—that way.
"How do good girls feel about getting their fuck in the back of a Jeep?"
Chapter Five
Neera
