Page 86 of Resist

“I thought I was going to throw you off tonight. I figured you didn’t know how to mix with us little people—”

“You’re far from what I’d consider the little people, Vaughn.”

“Compared to you, I am.” She laughs. “Still, I thought you’d be out of your element at the game.”

“Were you testing me?”

“Mmm.”

“I’m sorry to let you down. I assure you caviar tastes like shit, hundred-year-aged whiskey doesn’t taste all that different from Jack Daniels, and Armani isn’t the only thing I wear.”

“You sure about that?”

“C’mon,” I say as I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her to face me. “Did I pass your test?”

But once the words are out and her body is turned with her lips inches from mine, every part of me that is in contact with her burns with the need to touch her more.

Despite the quirk of her brow, there is the slightest hitch in her breath as she draws it in that tells me she’s just as affected by me right now as I am by her. But she doesn’t speak. Not as the desire darkens in her eyes. Not as her hands reach out and hook through the belt loops of my jeans. Not when she leans forward and brushes her lips against mine.

She’s like goddamn lightning—that’s what she is.

She strikes without warning and is going to singe every damn part of me no matter what kind of shelter I try to hide under.

I might as well grab onto something metal and take my chances.

“Tell me you want me, Vaughn. Tell me you want to do this.” My voice is strained, everything in me that wants her is being held back by a thread, taut and ready to snap.

Our eyes hold, and even in the dim light, I can see the thoughts and questions race through hers, but she never says a word.

Then she lowers herself to her knees.

And despite every part of me saying I want to hear her answer, I need to know she agrees about what we are about to do here, I stand there silently as her fingers begin to undo my button and zipper. As the cool night air brushes over my cock when she frees it from my pants. Even when her fingers grip around my shaft and then the heat of her tongue leaves its indelible mark as it slides over the tip.

My sharp inhale sounds like a freight train in my own ears as sensations swamp every part of me so that it feels like I can’t breathe.

It’s been weeks since we were in that hotel. Days of wanting a woman but knowing no other would be able to satisfy me. Hours of thinking about what she’d feel like doing this to me.

And Christ does it feel good. The wet heat as she suctions around me. The way the back of her throat convulses when I hit it. The pressure her tongue adds to the underside of my cock. The way she twists her hand around me to add a taunt to her temptation.

I fight the urge to fist my hand in her hair, to fuck her mouth like I’ve wanted to do since the first time I set eyes on her in that burgundy dress when she walked across the hotel lobby. Something in the back of my mind, the lone hold I have over my restraint, tells me not to. Somewhere in the fog of pleasure she’s seducing me with, I remember my assumption about her past and fight the impulse.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Vaughn

My mind has shut down.

My body is on autopilot.

This is what is required to please a man. This is how you render them speechless so they don’t ask for more. So I don’t have to answer the question he asked me.

This is your get-out-of-jail-free card. Make them come even when they try to push you off so you can’t have actual sex. Because when they come, they need time to recoup and get hard again, and that means they usually fall asleep. Bye-bye, sex.

This is your defense mechanism. The way you’ve survived this far.

No eye contact. No anything. Just do the job and then . . . but something happens.

Ryker slides his hand beneath my chin and forces me to look up and meet his eyes while he’s still hard in my mouth.