“Is that what you’re doing?” I whisper. “Waiting for me to be ready?”
Tony’s voice goes rough as he replies, “I’m waiting for you to decide if I’m worth the risk. There’s a difference.”
I let my hand slide from his face down to his chest, where I feel his heart beating fast under my palm. “And if I decide you’re not?”
“Then I’ll accept it. But Sasha, I’m not going anywhere until you make that call. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
I unbutton the top button of my blouse with my free hand.
Tony watches my fingers. “What are you doing?”
“He’s listening anyway.” I whisper as I unbutton the second button. “Let’s give him something worth hearing.”
Understanding crosses Tony’s face.
Adrian is obsessed with me. Has been since London. And now he gets to listen while I choose someone else. While I want someone else. While I give myself to the man he hired to destroy me.
It’s perfect psychological warfare.
I unbutton the third button, and Tony has my face in his hands before I can get my shirt open. He kisses me. Hard. Demanding. I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring all my anger at Adrian and confusion about Tony and frustration with this whole situation into it.
I yank at Tony’s shirt while he spreads the fabric on mine open. We’re frantic now, desperate, shedding clothes like they’re suffocating us.
My blouse hits the floor. His shirt follows.
Tony’s hands find my waist as he pulls me flush against him. I can feel how much he wants this. Wants me.
“Bed,” I gasp between kisses.
He backs me toward it without breaking contact. His hands slide over my skin—my waist, my ribs, up to cup my breasts through my bra.
I get his belt open. The buckle clinks. Then his zipper. He kicks off his pants while I shimmy out of my jeans.
We fall onto the mattress together in just our underwear. Tony covers my body with his, and his body weight on top of me feels perfect.
He kisses my throat. My collarbone. Works his way down with single-minded focus.
When he reaches my bra, he pauses. “Can I?”
“Yes.”
He reaches behind me and unclasps it before he tosses it aside without looking where it lands. Then his mouth is on my breast, and I arch into the contact.
“God,” he murmurs against my skin. “I’ve been thinking about this day and night.”
“Then stop talking and do something about it.”
He takes that as a challenge. His tongue circles my nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. The sensation shoots straight between my legs. I grab his hair and pull him closer, not caring if I’m being too rough.
He moves to my other breast and gives it the same attention. Licking. Sucking. Using his teeth just enough to make me gasp.
By the time he’s done, I’m panting and squirming beneath him.
“Patience,” he teases with a grin.
“I don’t want patience.”
“Too bad.” He kisses his way down my stomach, pausing to nip at my hip bone. “I’m taking my time with you.”
