Page 4 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

I'd swear to it being the original.

"You'd be surprised what money can buy." Rashid moves closer. I hear his feet on the floor, the whisper of his jacket as it's being removed. Then I feel his hands wrap around my biceps and his breath dust my cheek as he leans over my shoulder. "But the one thing it can never buy is true communion.You like art?" he asks softly, and I understand what he means.

Rashid's painting is nothing more than pocket change.

What he wants is the interaction he craves from fellow art lovers like me.

"This is breathtaking."

"You're breathtaking, Emory." I detect a hint of mint on his breath this time, like he freshened up, which means he hopes to kiss me. And having sent me to his "office" that’s more like a lair, I'm fully convinced this man does not have conversation in mind.

I look up at him over my shoulder and see the dark swirl of lust in his eyes again. "You're bold for a man my father's age." Turning, I lift my hand and straighten his tie, then hook a finger behind the knot and pull slowly, loosening it. "Did you ask me here to discuss art?"

"I asked you here, Emory, to do this."

Rashid's hands slide up my arms to cradle my face gently, then he leans in until our lips meet.

The stubble on his jawline scratches my soft skin as he deepens the kiss and parts my lips to drag his tongue across mine.

It steals my breath and has me weak in the knees, and when his arm wraps around my waist, my hands splay over his chest instinctually.

Yes, this is what Irina was talking about.

And no, I am not having second thoughts.

2

RASHID

Emory is intoxicating—so alluring I knew the instant I saw her I had to have her, and now as I devour her lips, every cell in my body knows she was made for me.

I kiss her harder, tilting her head back with one hand while the other stays wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against me.

Her mouth is soft and eager, tasting of vodka and inexperience, and she lets out a small, helpless whimper that shoots straight to my groin.

I slide my tongue deeper, claiming every inch, teaching her exactly how I want to be kissed.

When I finally pull back just enough for her to breathe, her lips are swollen and her eyes are glazed. “Oh God…” she whispers, breathless.

“Mmmm,” I murmur against her mouth, brushing my lips over hers in a teasing glide. “Say my name."

“Rashid?” Her voice trembles and I reward her with another slow, deep kiss, sucking on her lower lip until she whimpers again.

Then my hand drifts down her side, stopping just under the curve of her breast.

I don’t touch where she wants it yet. I make her wait. “You feel how hard I am for you, Emory?” I press my hips forward so she can feel the thick ridge of my cock against her thigh. “You did this to me just now..."

She shivers, but her hands claw at my shirt, gathering fabric to pull me closer.

I kiss the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, scraping my teeth lightly along her skin.

“Tell me what you want,” I demand softly. “Be honest, little one. I won’t touch you until you admit it.”

Her cheeks flush darker, though her lips are stained the color of rubies as arousal floods her body. She tries to look away, but I catch her chin and force her eyes back to mine.

“I… I want…” She falters, panting.

I kiss her again, slower this time, coaxing her tongue with mine until she’s melting. When I pull back she’s panting. “Say it,” I growl against her lips. “Tell me you want my hands on your body. Tell me you want me to touch you.”