Chapter Seventeen
Tam
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I’D HEARD HALLIE COMEhome and sneak back upstairs. I hadn’t been too worried about her while she’d been out. I’d had one of my men follow her, just to make sure she wasn’t getting herself in any trouble, so I knew exactly where she’d been and who she was with.
Looked like I wasn’t going to have to break any arseholes’ faces today.
I gave her enough time to shower and change, and then made my way upstairs. Time to step this thing up to the next level.
Fragrant steam from the adjoining bathroom had effused into the air in the bedroom, and I went to the bathroom door to find her standing at the sink, doing her makeup in the mirror above it.
Hallie’s red hair was damp and a shade darker and hung down her back. Her legs were endless, the skirt of the black dress stopping just below her backside and clinging to her thighs. From the low back, scooping down to the base of her spine, it was easy to tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.
She was fucking perfect.
The realisation stopped something inside me. I froze for a fraction of a second, my breath catching, my heart thudding.
It didn’t matter that I wouldn’t change her in any way. There was one thing about her that I could never change—she was Marlon Wynter’s daughter.
Brushing mascara onto her lashes, she caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and paused, the wand still in her hand.
“You look beautiful,” I told her.
Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and her gaze lowered from where our eyes had been locked in the mirror. She plugged the mascara wand back into the tube and turned to face me.
I moved closer, shortening the space between us, and planted my hands onto the marble sink counter, trapping her there. She gazed up at me, her breath hitching, her full lips parting. My cock stirred in my jeans. God, she was breathtaking.
Ducking my head, I kissed her, and kissed her hard, claiming her mouth with mine. She flattened her body against me, kissing me back as though she was starving and I was her sustenance.
I slid my hand between our bodies to cup one of those perfect tits over the top of her dress. Her nipple pebbled beneath my palm. She wound her arms around my neck and stood on tiptoes in her bare feet, grinding herself against my hardness.
Hallie Wynter might still be a virgin, and deep down, she might hate me, but she was a horny little bitch.
I moved my hand from her tit to shove it up under her dress. What I found there surprised me.
I drew back from kissing her. “No knickers. Just how I like it.”
“It’s not for your benefit,” she replied. “I just hadn’t got around to putting them on yet.”
I didn’t believe her for a second, but she could tell herself whatever she wanted. I was pleased to find her pussy still smooth—she must have maintained my work while she’d been in the shower. She stepped her feet apart and angled her hips, clearly wanting me. A sense of power burned up through me.