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“More?” He repeats and there is a hint of something in his voice that tells me he’s enjoying this, maybe just as much as I am.

“Yes.” I pant.

When his fingers curl inside me and he moves them faster, hitting a spot, it has me frantically searching for something to hold on to. My hands meet his exposed forearm, and with every pump of his fingers, I feel the tight ridges of his muscle flex. My inability to see heightens the feel of his skilled fingers moving in and out of me, the scent of his cedarwood cologne, a fragrance that will now be embedded in my skin.

My legs start shaking, a deep, hot pressure builds, and I think about begging him to stop because it all feels like it’s too muchto handle. I release the grip on his arm when I feel him his body move closer, his hot breath fanning my neck as his wet tongue glides up my exposed neck, then planting a kiss to my pulse point, that has my back arching in a bid to get closer to him.

“Good girl. Come for me, Gabriella, let go. I’ve got you.” His raw voice coaxes into my ear and that’s all I need to let myself go and give something to him that I’ve never given to another man.

My body convulses as I ride my high, pleasure unlike anything I’ve experienced before crashing through my veins, floods my body, and all I can do is ride the wave and let it take me. The palm of my hand glides up my neck and applies pressure to my throat, needing more, but not quite brave enough to ask. His movements slow as my body goes slack, and it takes a few moments for my breathing to even out. I wince a little when he removes his fingers, hating the empty feeling.

My eyes blink rapidly when he removes the makeshift blindfold, and I look down at my half naked body, open and sprawled out on the couch before him. I’m too spent to think about covering up, and weirdly, I don’t want to. I look up and my mouth falls open when he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. “Mmm, so fucking sweet. Next time, I’m having a proper taste of you, Mia cara.”

I’m still processing what just happened, but I know one thing for certain: I want to do that again. With him.

Chapter Eighteen

Brad

“It’s just not adding up.” Harry huffs in frustration and tosses the papers on the desk. He’s right, it’s not. Over the last year, thousands and thousands of dollars have gone missing. Not enough to flag anything on a day to day basis, but when our accountant said our accounts didn’t balance, we took it upon ourselves to investigate, convinced he was wrong. He wasn’t.

“Do you think it could be a staff member?” Jack suggests, taking another look at the stack of files on my desk.

“I don’t know. We can rule Kate and Harley out,” Harry states, and Jack and I nod in agreement.

“I’ll ask Kate to keep an eye on her next shift, and I’ll look at the cashier logs to see if anyone has used their key cards at odd hours.”

“Good plan,” Harry confirms. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you with this shit show.”

“Yeah, me too. We’ll be in Florida and then back for a few days and then on to our honeymoon,” Jack adds.

“Yeah, don’t worry. You both go get your dick wet and I’ll man the fort,” I tease. Harry glares at me, and I realize what I’ve said.

“Who are you fucking?” Jack directs his question at Harry. “Is this the mystery girl you told us about at the wedding?”

“Err, yeah, she might come and visit me in London,” he says nervously, scratching the back of his head.

I don’t know how long they think they can keep this up without getting caught, and that idea makes my mind divert back to Gabriella and what happened between us the other night. The way she opened up to me, both physically and emotionally, has only intensified my desire for her. If she wasn’t already running through my head daily, now I know she’s the girl behind the mask and I’ve watched her come undone, I fear I am well and truly fucked. I doubled my workout efforts this morning in a bid to quieten my mind, and it did nothing.

“Well, when I get back, I want a name,” Jack says, standing and tapping his knuckles against the desk. “Got it?” He points at Harry. “We don’t do secrets.”

Harry salutes playfully. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“What time are we meeting at the restaurant?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from Harry and his secret girl.

Jack loads the coffee machine on the bar at the back of the office and the sound of it brewing along with the rich scent floats through the air.

“I booked it for eight o’clock. Anne and Carl are coming to collect the girls around four, so I’ll head out soon so I can see them before they go.”

I look at my watch: 3.23 pm.

“You get going. Harry and I will finish up here. I’ll call Kate and brief her,” I say.

Jack walks over, placing two steaming mugs of black coffee on my desk.

“You sure?” he asks, eyeing me. “Oscar called. He may have some new units ready to view out in LA in the next few weeks. One of us needs to go out there and check them out. He needs calling—”

I cut him off. “Yes, yes, I got it. I’ll handle it. Get outta here. Go see your girls.” A small smile forms on his face at the mention of his step-daughters, and he looks like the happiest man to walk the earth.