“Did you ask if you could?”
Every second that ticked by made me more naked than anyone else. “No, but I thought since they were—”
“You don’t want to be naked.”
Wasn’t that obvious? My arms hurt and I let it get the better of me. I threw Joseph a plain look. “No, of course I don’t.”
Huge mistake. His expression soured.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “May I get dressed, Sir?”
“No,” he snapped. “Tell me why you don’t want to be naked. Are you uncomfortable with your body?”
Not really, and yet, yes. I was raised Catholic, and learned early on that women’s bodies needed to be covered appropriately. Being indecent was a sin. “I . . .”
His hand hooked under my arm and gently pulled me to my feet, and then he was lifting my shirt and bra up over my head. Stripping me of everything except for my sandals.
“Go to the bar and bring me the bottle of Jack Daniel’s.” His order was stern.
My mouth went completely dry. It was a million feet to the bar and back, and Payton and Dominic were already dressed, watching our exchange. I pivoted on my heel, held my head as high as I could muster, and went on my unsteady feet toward the bar. Going would be easy. Coming back would be much harder as I had to face them. Maybe I could pretend not to find the bottle and stall, but what good would it do? Joseph would treat it as disobedience and wouldn’t let that stand.
The whiskey with the black label wasn’t hard to locate. I gripped the neck of the bottle and turned around, steeling my expression into one that I hoped was blank. It felt like there were a billion pairs of eyes watching me and not just three as I paced forward.
“Look at them,” Joseph demanded. “You think they’re judging your body? Fuck no. That’s lust. Desire. You’re gorgeous and sexy, and watching you come only made them want more.”
My pulse jumped. “More?”
Joseph smiled, his eyes glittering in the dim light. “Yes. Unless you want to get dressed and I can take you home.”
Dominic stood behind Payton, his hands splayed on her hips. What Joseph had said was true. They eyed me like I was delicious, and a new fire ignited low in my center. It was a powerful feeling.
“Which is it?” Joseph asked lightly, like he didn’t care one way or the other, and perhaps he didn’t. But he’d said he believed this was a one-time opportunity with them, and I wasn’t going to waste it.
My tone was confident despite the lack of clothing. “More.”
He thundered toward me, ensnared me in his arms, and crushed me tightly against him. His voice was so low, it was a growl. “You’re so fucking amazing, Noemi.”
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chapter
TWENTY-TWO
JOSEPH
There were no words for how hot this girl was. The way she let me push, which really was the way she pushed herself. I would back down if she wanted me to, but she didn’t. She wanted . . . more.
Me? I wanted it all.
This arrangement had been a joke the moment I’d declared her mine. Our relationship was far more serious than the arrangement I’d had with my other submissives. An undeniable need compelled us together.
“You can get dressed,” I said to Noemi. “But don’t expect the clothes to stay on long, and those panties stay where Payton left them.” She pressed her lips together, nodded, and passed the bottle of Jack to me. When I released her, she hurried to the pile of clothes I’d discarded.
It was a fucking crime to hide that body. Why she wouldn’t be proud of it, was beyond me. But perhaps it was good, too. She was still unaware of how much power she had when she was like that. Noemi was smart. It wouldn’t be much longer before she figured it out and I’d have to step up my game.
The whiskey had a nice burn to it, and the heat lingered in the back of my throat. Hell, heat lingered everywhere in me, but it was the burn for her. Did she have a clue how crazy she made me? I’d crawled into her fucking bed last night, wanting her near.
It’s not like we had all that much in common. A handful of similar interests, not including her father. Noemi Rosso was so much better than me. In an entirely different class, but like a selfish prick, I’d keep her as long as she’d let me. I couldn’t get enough.