Holy shit.
This man is driving me crazy.
I would kill for half a glass of wine to take the edge off my frazzled nerves, but I also don’t like how much I’m cravingalcohol. It might be time to take a break. Even I can admit how much I’ve been counting on it to keep me calm recently, and I don’t ever want to be the woman who has to drink to get through daily life.
Moretti’s fingers dig into my thigh as he massages my skin for a second before he flips his hand over. The backs of his fingers brush higher, curving toward the apex of my thighs.
I peek up at him, but he’s listening to whatever Taggart is saying about a delivery of…something.
I’m not sure what.
It’s all chatter that my brain can’t comprehend with Moretti mercilessly teasing me.
Swiping my soda off the table, I take a long swig. The carbonation is nice, but it does nothing to settle my frazzled system.
Moretti hasn’t crossed any lines.
I almost wish he would.
He’s so close to giving my clit the pressure it craves, but then he’s gone again, working his way back down my thigh.
It’s a battle not to squirm.
His electric scent has me buzzing inside.
This isn’t good.
I peek around for Hawk and Magnum.
Hawk leans against the wall that frames the back side of the bar. Like always, he’s serious and focused. His gaze moves from the elevators around the room and back again.
Magnum sits at one of the tables facing me and Moretti. He catches my eye and winks, tilting his head.
I glance around, trying to figure out what he’s looking at, but there’s nothing exciting.
I’m sure my face betrays my confusion, and he raises his pointer and middle fingers. They’re together at first, but he pullsthem apart, making a V as he nods at me, tilting his head even farther to the side.
I squint.
Moretti has been touching my left thigh, since it’s closer to him, but he slaps my right, making me jolt.
Oh.
I’m an idiot.
With how the guys are positioned across from us, there’s just enough space between them for Magnum to get a peek up my dress.
Moretti isn’t calculating enough to have planned that, right?
Who am I kidding?
He’s exactly that premeditated.
Moretti’s fingers dance over my right thigh, soothing the ache. Instead of working back toward my knee, he inches higher, grazing my panties as he moves to the other leg.
I stare straight ahead at Magnum, who winks.
The two guys casually drink whatever alcoholic beverage they ordered after the entrees. They’re not paying attention to me. Their eyes stay on Moretti. Somehow the man in question manages to stay engaged with them while tormenting me.
