Page 45

“You know the answer to that. Turn around, grab the table.”

“Jordan—”

“Turn around.”

There's no room for negotiating in his crisp instructions. “What are you going to do to me?”

His pliant lips tug at their edges until they become a smirk. “Something I almost did that night in my dining room.”

I breathe in shakily. This does feel akin to when he was demanding I sit down. And he'd told me something that night.I wish you hadn't obeyed me.“You know I can walk out of here,” I whisper.

“Can you?” he asks curiously.

“Unlessyouplan to break the law—and not some pretend trespassing thing—yeah, nothing is stopping me from walking out.”

We stare each other down. He's smiling thinly while I hold my head high, trying to make myself look as collected as I can. Jordan takes the pen, tucks it behind his hear, where it fits perfectly. It suits him. “Somethingisstopping you, sweet bird. It's the way your heart is beating. The way your nipples are trying to cut through your shirt. The insane amount of wetness from your desperate pussy. Youcouldhave left, yes, before. But not now. You want to see what I'm going to do to you.”

A hiccup length of time passes by. That's all, nothing more, but it's long enough for him to know he's right. He's won. I don't want to leave; I've been swirling slowly but surely towards Jordan Hartford like a boat at the rim of a whirlpool. Once, I dreamed of mermaids who would drown men.

In the end, I'm the one drowning.

Twisting around I adjust my grip on the edges of the big drafting table. The overhead lights cast my shadow on the blank sheet of paper. It grows darker as Jordan looms behind me. “Good girl, that's better.” His voice is a rasp that licks through my brain until it reaches my pussy. “But it's not good enough. You've been challenging me at every turn, insulting me with your little mouth. Almost like you wanted me to push back … to punish you.”

My lower belly tightens; I see my hot breath hitting the paper, shifting the corners from the pressure. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Let me show you.” His entire hand strokes down the back of my dress. Earlier he grabbed my ass when we'd kissed across the hall. And just like that time, my knees quiver, my pulse quickens. Jordan peels the hem of my dress over my hips until he exposes my panties. “You aresoaked,sweet bird.”

Putting my forehead on the paper I groan. I'm flushing from a mix of lust and shame. “You've been teasing me all damn day.”

“You're dripping. I can put my palm under you and catch a handful. Drink it up by the cup.”

My cheeks are scalding—my clit throbs, needing attention. “Don't act like you're different. You've been walking around with a hard-on all day.”

“True,” he chuckles, placing one hand on my lower back, pushing me flat on the desk. Then he brings his mouth next to my ear, breath rushing over my skin. “But I am different. I don't suffer when I need something. What do you think I was doing in my bedroom all that time while you were downstairs letting the caterers in?”

My eyes widen.He was jerking himself off.Knowing he was in his bedroom, pumping his cock, thinking of me while I was downstairs makes me dizzy.

He says, “I took care of myself. But you? Your pussy is furious from being denied. I bet you'd do anything just to come. Am I right, Lorikeet?”

I close my eyes, speak to the table. “No.”

His laugh is thick and warm as it flows through my ear. He nuzzles my head, kisses the nape of my neck; I try to stand, but he puts his weight on me so I can't. His free hand coils on the inside of my left thigh from behind. “Such a terrible liar.” With two fingers he strokes the elastic edge of my panties.

Jordan is wrong; I'm an amazing liar. But in this situation, where my body betrays my brain, where my skin is so hot, I expect it to start steaming, it's impossible to hide what I want from him. I don't know why I'm trying.

Because of who he is!I scream internally.He's Dezmond's father! He's looked out for his son his whole life, thick and thin, and when it comes to the important stuff, he'll choose him over you.

“Jordan,” I whisper.

“Unless you're begging me to let you come, I don't want to hear you.”

Liquid lust saturates my ruined panties. Rocking my hips as subtly as I can, I will my body's arousal to turn into cold indifference. He puts his whole left palm on my matching ass-cheek, pushing my soft skin up, exposing me to the air when my panties slip deeper into my folds.

One single thick finger rolls along my inner thigh until it reaches the mound of my pussy trapped in my wet lace. With almost no pressure he rubs my slit from back to front and back again. I gasp at the slow, patient way he does it. There's no single-minded rush to finger me, fuck me, use me for his own pleasure.

Jordan was serious.

He wants to drive me insane.