“You don’t have a poker face. Especially when I have my hands on you.”
I swallow, letting my gaze fall to his bow tie. “Don’t tease or run away from you. Got it. Will you please let me go now?”
Cool air touches my hot skin when my wrists are freed. I bring them forward as blood rushes to the spots where he held me. I wait for his intoxicating scent to fade once he steps back. Instead, it becomes stronger.
I get a head rush when I’m swept into his arms without warning. I clutch his biceps as he carries me to the nearest wall. Facing me toward it, his fingers dig into my hips, making me arch my back. “Na… Nathan!”
Grabbing my waist on one side, his other hand trails higher to the slit in my dress and slips underneath it. My palms slap against the wall as goosebumps erupt on my flesh.
“What… are you doing?”
“Apologizing.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Arya
“What for?” I nervously ask.
It’s shocking that I’m able to string a sentence together, having his hands on me. How does he turn me putty under his touch?
The length of his body presses flush against my spine as he dips his face to brush his lips against my ear. “For forcing you to confront Bianca before you were ready.”
I’m once again left stunned by the regret in his voice.
As much as I hate him for his vengeful move, it did give me the nudge I needed to face my sister and have the long-overdue conversation.
In some twisted way, I found the happy ending.
I’m back together with Bianca.
Of course, I don’t tell Nathan any of that.
Because you want his sinful apology.
“Why do you do these things, Nathan?” I whisper, making his fingers tense on my inner thigh. “Why do you make me want to hate you?”
“It’s all I know.” His calloused palm climbs higher up my trembling thigh. “So, I can do this.”
Oh gosh, he’s going to… I try to close my legs, but it’s too late.
His whole body goes rigid when his fingers graze my bare sex.
“Jesus, Arya!” he curses roughly. “Have you been walking around naked all night?”
I flush crimson from head to toe.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I stand frozen.
He cups me fully, uncaring of the mess I’m making of his palm with my wetness. A light pressure to tilt my hips higher until my ass connects with his swollen length. “I asked you something, angel.”
“Y-yes.” Licking my dry lips, I explain so he doesn’t think I go commando all the time, “My dress is tight and would show panty lines. I don’t like wearing thongs or… a G-string. I had no other option.”
I was in a hurry and couldn’t find an alternative. How was I supposed to know I’d find myself bent over with my client’s hand up my gown?
“So, you decided to wear nothing at all.” His taunt is an electric current against the soft skin of my neck. “You sat like this beside him.”
The violent edge in his tone sends a fearful shiver down my spine.
