Page 14 of His Forbidden Alliance

I forced myself to smile. “So what if I am?”

“That’s not a criticism. Just an observation.”

“So what are you greedy for?”

He rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip. I forced myself to stay still. I didn’t want him to guess the intensity of the reaction I was having inside. Heat and need raced through me. I wanted to haul him against me. I wanted to kiss him hard, like I was punishing him for taunting me. I wanted to shove him to his knees and make him suck me off.

Do you really?

No, dammit. What I really wanted was for him to flip me over, lay me out across the desk, and fuck me. That kind of dominance was what I often wanted with men, but I very rarely asked for it, and even then, I made sure I was in control.

“Do you want this?” he asked.

I nodded. “Say it.”

“Yes.”

His lips brushed mine. It was too gentle, too soft. I needed more. I slid my tongue along the seam of his lips, and he groaned as he deepened the kiss, opening for me. He cupped my face in his hands, holding me still so he could assault my mouth, and I took it willingly. I grabbed his belt loops and yanked him in closer, desperate for more. When he pulled away from me, I couldn’t stifle a whimper. A fucking whimper.

His smirk told me everything. He was so fucking pleased with him. He winked at me as he took another step back. “I’ll see you next week.”

Fuck. Was he really going to walk away now? The bastard was leaving it up to me to make a move or to let him go. No way in hell was I going to beg for his attention. “I’ll see you then, Gordon.”

“Not my name.” He strode through the door and closed it behind him. I should be more concerned that he was on his own back here, but I was sure my security guards would notice him wandering and escort him to the parking lot.

I dropped into the chair he’d sat in the last time he’d been in my office and let my head fall into my hands as I drew in a few shaky breaths. My heart was pounding so hard, I worried it might give out.

What the hell had just happened? How had he gotten the upper hand?

If he’d been sent by Ivanov to worm his way in, find ways to punish my family, and get his revenge, why would he have walked away? Why would he be playing a long game when I showed him how easy I was? Wouldn’t he want to pump me for information after he’d fucked me senseless?

That didn’t make sense, right? Or was I trying to make things the way I wanted them to be?

No. I didn’t want anything from G. I didn’t play games with men. They either wanted to fuck, or they didn’t. I didn’t have time for that nonsense.

But damn, I wanted him. There was something about him, the way he moved, the way he challenged me.

He’s not afraid of you. He’s ready to put you in your place.

I ignored the voice in my head. I didn’t want to think about things like that. I needed to investigate him further, but to do that thoroughly, I’d have to tell Remington about him. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to handle this myself.

Are you going to kill him yourself when you find out he’s from Ivanov?

Fucking intrusive thoughts! I would though. I would do anything to protect my family and to protect innocent children who would be hurt by Ivanov. It didn’t matter how much I liked G. It didn’t matter how my body responded to him; I would do what I had to do.

But the fastest way to learn who he really was would be to use my family’s resources.

They could also help me learn more about the other players in tonight’s game. They’d all been in the game for months though. How new was this threat Remington had told me about?

I’d done basic background checks on the players, but we could go far deeper. That’s what I should’ve done with George before letting him join the game. I had no idea who he was. I didn’t even have a fake name, much less a real one. Jesus Christ, what was I doing? Remington was going to fucking kill me.

I needed to get out of there. I nearly ran out of the office, surprising my security guards. I waved them off as I rushed out to my car. As I sank into the driver’s seat, I reached for my mother’s necklace that hung from the rearview mirror. I ran my fingers over the simple silver cross she’d always worn. What would it be like if she were still here? Would I tell her about G? Maybe. My memories of her were hazy, but I knew she’d been a good listener.

I started the car, then pulled my phone from my pocket and called my brother Dante.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” he yelled when he answered.

“Dante, who is it?” That was his husband, Alex’s, voice. He sounded very close. They must be in bed. At least it sounded like they had been sleeping.