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His hand glides up, up, until his palm cups me through the delicate, whisper-thin lace of my panties. A startled gasp escapes my lips, and my body jerks instinctively, but his hold is unyielding. He brushes his fingers over the lace, his touch a featherlight caress, while his body remains a solid anchor against mine.
A shiver cascades through me, the heat pooling low in my belly turning molten, threatening to consume me.
Nick’s lips graze the shell of my ear, the faintest touch that sends a thrill through my entire being. "Be still or I’ll strip you naked, put a butterfly on you and put those pretty nipples of yours in alligator clamps."
It’s not a threat. It's a test—one I know I’m on the brink of failing.
He applies the slightest pressure, just enough to make me squirm, to make my body yearn for his touch, and I swear I can hear the wicked grin in the silence. My head falls back against his shoulder, my breath escaping in soft, uneven gasps as his fingers toy with the lace, teasing the very edge of my resolve.
"Perfect," Fortier murmurs approvingly, his voice a smooth purr of satisfaction. "Now I believe you."
Nick stills, his presence shifting in an instant to something more controlled, more composed, the moment snapping like a taut thread. I come undone with a muffled cry; the sound trapped behind the gag.
He gently strokes my sex one last time before his hand withdraws, leaving my entire body thrumming with an unfulfilled need, my pulse hammering wildly in my throat. I don't even realize I've made a sound until Nick's thumb brushes tenderly across my bottom lip, a silent acknowledgment of the charged moment we've shared.
He turns me slowly, keeping one possessive hand on my waist as he faces Fortier. “Satisfied?”
Fortier chuckles. “I should’ve known better than to question you.”
Nick doesn’t smile. He never does. Instead, he lifts his chin, his presence effortlessly commanding. “Then let’s talk business.”
* * *
The operation is a success—at least, that’s what the intel says. Nick gets Fortier to hand over everything: shipment manifests, encrypted contact chains, secure drop locations. No threats, no weapons, no blood spilled. Just quiet pressure, a low voice, and the brutal calm of a man who knows how to take control without raising his hand.
By the time Nick leads me out of the club, the mission’s over. The job is done. And I still don’t know exactly why it worked. He didn’t flash credentials or twist an arm. All he did was show Fortier what true dominance looks like—and somehow, that was enough to make a man like Fortier fold.
Nothing feels finished. Not the heat still coursing through me. Not the way my skin hums with the memory of his touch. Not the unspoken question that lingers between us.
He says nothing as the valet brings the Range Rover around. Nick’s movements are clipped, controlled, but I feel it in the way he grips the wheel, the way his jaw ticks as he stares straight ahead as he pulls away from the entrance.
He’s just as affected as I am. The realization makes something reckless twist inside me.
“Nick…”
“Not now,” he says, driving us into a dark corner of the casino’s parking lot and parking.
I cross my arms, heat prickling over my skin. “You can’t just ignore what happened in there.”
His knuckles tighten on the wheel. “Watch me.”
My body still feels branded by his touch, and now he wants to pretend it didn’t happen? Like I didn’t nearly fall apart in his hands?
Anger and something deeper curl inside me. “You crossed a line.”
His hazel eyes snap to mine, dark and dangerous. “I did exactly what needed to be done.”
I don’t know if I want to slap him or straddle him. I opt to straddle him.
My pulse pounds. My body hums. And then I do something reckless—I unbuckle my seatbelt and crawl across the center console, shoving into his space, my breath uneven.
“Then finish it.”
His breath stills. “What?”
I grip the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer. “You want to play games, Nick? Fine. But I’m not walking away from this, pretending you didn’t just make me come undone in front of another man.”
His pupils dilate. “And pretty spectacularly, sweetheart. You soaked my hand through your panties. By the way, from now on, those are not allowed unless I specifically request them.”