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His fingers traveled higher up, pulling the blouse up slowly and revealing the bare expanse of my stomach. He kept his gaze on my face, watching me, perhaps for a sign that he should back off.
He stopped his search when his fingers traced the underwire of my bra.
He moved to draw his fingers down, but I gripped his wrist with my other hand, holding him in place.
“Chloe,” he said, the word sounding rough.
I reached up to glide my hand over the back of his hand, pressing down on it, taking his fingers up over my bra until they fully cupped my breast.
He must have felt my hardened nipple under his fingers because his jaw clenched suddenly. He could definitely feel that through the sheer lace bra I wore today.
“You know who I thought about when I wore this?” I asked, my voice hoarse when he began to pinch my nipple, teasing it between his fingers.
“Of course, me,” he said in that smug voice.
Ugh. The jerk.
I ran my tongue over my upper lip as he gently circled my sensitive peak. The moan of relief I gave was confirmation enough.
“We can’t do this,” he said, suddenly withdrawing his hand from under my blouse and leaving me empty.
I balked at him, my blouse suddenly loose as cold air rushed in where his warm fingers had been. I wanted more. I wanted to grab his hand and put it back on me, having him touch me in one of the most intimate places, but I would not beg. So, I clenched my thighs and swallowed.
I hate him.
“Will was?—”
Sean leaned in closer, crowding me until I was backing up a few steps on the footpath.
“I don’t want his name crossing your lips,” he growled.
“Or what?” I challenged.
Suddenly, his hand was back on my wrist. “You’re coming with me,” he ordered as he stepped sideways next to me, leading the way to his car.
I glanced at the black Rolls-Royce and yanked my hand out of his.
“Or you could go back home,” he gritted out, turning around to face me.
“No,” I said instantly before I could help myself. “I don’t want to go back home. My brother will realize what happened … and … I don’t want to tell him?—”
“The truth,” Sean finished for me. “Just like you’re plainly hiding the truth from me.”
29
CHLOE
Igazed at him, feeling my frustration simmering beneath the surface. The streetlights in the night sky cast a subtle glow, revealing the sharp contours of his features. He was undeniably handsome, the kind of man who turned heads effortlessly. But he was maddeningly vexing. Today, it was the nonchalant aura he wore that left me torn between irritation and fascination.
The sleek black Rolls-Royce started its engine, and Sean put his hands on my shoulders and steered me to the waiting car.
“First, we’re going to eat,” he said and held the door open for me.
First?
“What’s second?” I asked, but he only glowered back at me.
“I’m going to make sure Will’s name never crosses your lips ever again.”