I groaned as she deliberately rubbed herself on my fingertips.
My eyes snapped shut as she eased her underwear aside, guiding my finger inside her.
I stopped breathing. I stopped worrying. I couldn’t do anything but give in.
My cock punched against my belt. Pain existed everywhere. It tookeverything I had not to grab her and fuck her over my desk.
Her plait dangled as she breathed in my ear, “Take me, Kite. Fill me like you did in the spring. I’m yours and you belong inside me. Nobody can change that.” She rocked again, moaning softly. “I want you.”
“Nila...”
I want you, too. I want to tell you everything. I want to fucking run away and never look back...
“Well, this is an interesting sight.”
Nila shot upright. “Oh, my God.”
Yanking my hand from her jeans, I shoved her behind my chair. “I told you I had a fucking meeting,” I growled.
She fumbled with nerves, struggling to do up her trousers. Her eyes narrowed at our guest, anxiety waking off her in droves.
For once, I didn’t mind. I rather enjoyed her flustered need. Her unsettled confusion.
Spinning my chair around, so the man in the doorway wouldn’t see, I raised the finger that’d been inside her and ever so slowly, sucked it clean. Her taste exploded on my tongue. I could’ve come right there if we didn’t have an audience.
Nila stumbled, her hands crossing over her chest to hide the sheer camisole and bra.
“I have a feeling I interrupted something. However, I’m not going to be the gentleman and say sorry. I’m just going to stand right here and wait.” The man laughed quietly. “By all means, continue if you must. I’m a patient guy.”
Nila looked over my head, swallowing desire and frustration. “Not at all. I was just leaving.”
Moving fast, I latched my damp fingers around her wrist and tugged to whisper in her ear. “Whatever you just started...it’s not over.”
Her eyes widened as I let her go.
I spun back to face my guest. “Hello, Killian.”
Nila sneaked forward to snag her jumper. I chuckled under my breath. How could she be so sensually confident one moment and so flummoxed the next? “Nila Weaver, seeing as you delayed me, please say hello to my business meeting.”
The man in the doorway nodded, filling the frame with his large bulk and brown leather jacket. The stitching of his MC glittered with the words ‘Prez’ and ‘Pure Corruption.’
Nila blushed, slipping into her top. “Pleasure to meet you...”
“Kill,” the man said, stalking into the room and holding out his hand. A smirk spread his lips, remembering what he’d interrupted. “On second thought, perhaps I won’t give you my hand. I don’t know what you’ll do with it.”
Nila turned a deeper pink. Her eyes hit the floor.
I laughed.
Serves her right for unsettling me.
Standing, I crossed the room and shook hands with the president of Pure Corruption. Standing taller than me with muscles bigger than Kestrel and black hair brushing his jaw, Killian screamed violence and influence. He wasn’t someone you messed with.
His huge grip clasped mine. “Nice to see you again, Hawk.”
Nila sized him up, interest glowing beneath her shyness.
It pissed me off, but I wasn’t worried. It was well-known that Arthur Killian of the Florida Pures didn’t go after women. He wasn’t gay, but for some reason he avoided the opposite sex.
