When I look up at him, he takes my wrist and pins me back against the door of the car, his mouth nearly touching mine. His nose brushes mine as he pushes closer, breathing me in. “Claire Donovan, will you be my fiancée for the night?”
I swallow, shocked and overwhelmed by his proximity. He’s more powerful, sexier, more intense than anyone I’ve ever met. He already has me panting and hasn’t even touched me. I nod once. “Yes.”
His mouth takes full advantage of my parted lips. His tongue strokes the roof of my mouth, dragging a moan from my throat. I answer each move of his tongue, trying to keep up. His tongue and mouth do more to me than any guy has done with his cock. My underwear is wet from the kiss, and from his hands ghosting up my side, fingers teasing my breast like he just might take it to the next level. But he doesn’t.
I suck his tongue, but he pulls away and grins wickedly. I just stare at him, barely restraining myself from kissing him again. But I fucking want more than a kiss. Which is new—I’ve never wanted more.
“See how nice I can be when you behave?” He pulls my hand down to his cock, showing me how hard he is. “Imagine how nice I’d be if you were a good girl for me.”
His fingers stroke under my chin and he kisses me softly.
“You’re going to have a fun night with that in your pants,” I whisper.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “And now we’re back to me spanking your bratty ass. Let’s go before I decide to do it right here and now.”
“Of course, Mr. Douglass,” I tease despite everything else I’m feeling.
He peels his body off me and extends a hand. I exhale and reveal a sly sideways grin and take his hand. “You’re supposed to be my fiancée, Claire. You’ll have to tolerate some things you won’t like to keep that ring.” He says it like it’ll be a chore to accept his affection. Even if it’s fake, I think I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it, whether I show him that or not.
No one has ever been rough with me like that. I almost want it from James. Thinking of his big hands on me, punishing me for being a naughty girl…
James walks me into the gala with his hand on my lower back. It fits so perfectly, feels like it’s meant to be there.
“You’re blushing,” he murmurs in my ear. “Cute.”
“Stop.” I shove him lightly. Anyone else would think we were flirting, but I know it’s a game. It has to be a game. Just like the kiss against the car was to get me flustered so I’d act the part. “Professionalism, please.”
“Sure.” He chuckles. “I know how professional you are, even in a bar.” He winks at me.
I swallow and stand beside him, champagne in my hand. People are looking at the art; some are dancing slowly. There’s so much happening between the conversations, the live jazz music, and the sexual tension I feel between James and me as his hand circles my hip.
No. Not James. I can’t think of him as James, no matter how good he tasted. Because this is a work event. I have to keep my head clear. He’s Mr. Douglass tonight and every night. It doesn’t matter if I want him. He’s right—my dad would murder me, he’d murder us and he’ll make sure I lose my job immediately if he finds out.
“Mister—”
“No.”
“What am I supposed to call you, then?” I hate all his stupid ass rules. No one can even hear us.
“Not sir and definitely not Mr. Douglass.”
“So, what, you want me to call you Daddy?” The sass falls out of my mouth before I can stop it.
His fingers dig into my hip almost painfully. I wince and bite back the moan. His eyes catch mine in a look so hungry and intense that my mouth dries. “Only if you want me to drag you back to my car and do very unprofessional things to you.”
“Because that kiss was so professional.” I turn toward him slightly, absorbing the warmth of his body. He could wrap himself around me easily. He stands so much taller than me, even with me in heels, and I still want to challenge him.
“Compared to the punishment you’ll get if you keep this up, yes.”
I stare at him a moment longer, willing myself to stop picturing his cock, his body—fresh out of the shower. His whole body dripping with water as he reaches for a towel. Delicious muscle on his tall frame. Gorgeous and hard. So hard and big that I gasped. I practically ran for my room, sure he’d seen me. He hadn’t said anything, so I thought I was safe. For the first time, I understood how those women in Mom’s erotica felt and I’d acted on it once safe in bed.
He smiles very slightly, a vicious edge to his eyes. “That wasn’t a no.” Then he stands taller. “James. Only James here.”
“Okay…Jimmy.”
“I already told you not to tempt me, Claire. There won’t be a third warning.”
I smirk slightly. Every warning makes me want to disobey. Logic is being kicked out steadily by lust. Lust that I don’t usually feel. Lust that I haven’t felt like this since I was sixteen. It’s fucking with my head.