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“I won’t move them,” I grit out, my body tight, my pussy tight.
“It felt so fucking good, didn’t it?” he whispers. I groan quietly, back in the ladies’ with his hands all over mine. “I could have bent you over that sink and fucked you into tomorrow, and you would have loved that. Tell me. Tell me you would have loved that.”
I inhale, my hand creeping to the inside of my thigh, the pressure building, making me shake. I need to suppress the pulse. Rub myself. Ease the tingles. “I would have loved that.”
“Not so stiff now, are you?” he rasps. “In that chair desperate to come to the sound of my voice.”
My hand meets my pussy over my workout pants, and my breath hitches.
“You’re touching yourself,” he whispers. “Fuck, you’re touching yourself. Does it feel good?”
I can’t talk, can only breathe, my chest pumping, the heat rushing through me. I push my back into the chair, feeling it coming.
“Does it feel good?” he demands harshly. “Tell me, Amelia.”
“It feels so good,” I cry, throwing my head back. It’s coming.It’s coming.
“Take it, baby. And remember who got you off with his voice alone.”
Buzz, buzz, buzz!
I startle, coming into my body on a jarring gasp, my climax fizzling out. “Oh my God.” I blink, looking toward the intercom by the door. I’m panting. A little confused. What just happened?
“Amelia?”
I look down at my phone on the table. Then at my hand between my legs.Fuck.I scramble to grab my mobile.
“Amelia,” he says, sounding urgent.
“I’ve got to go.”
“No, Amelia, donothang up on me.”
I cut the call and rush to the telephone by the door, so unstable. “Hello?” I gasp.
“Delivery for Abbie Pearson.”
I hit the button to open the main door. “Just leave it in the lobby, thanks.” I hang up and fall against the wall, still fucking breathless.
A puppet on his strings.
What that man could do to me.
Abbie plucks a yellow rose from a metal bucket and adds it to the bouquet she’s building as I follow her around the florist. “I don’t know why you don’t just have dinner with him,” she says. “Worst case, you get a free dinner. Best case, you get a ride on the stallion.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not helping.”
“Then why did you come to see me and not Charley?” she asks as she pulls a few sprigs of eucalyptus out and arranges them just so. “Don’t answer that, I know why.”
I narrow my eyes as she carries on her merry, casual business building a bouquet. “Why?”
“Because, Amelia, you want to have dinner with him, and you know I will encourage you, whereas Charley won’t. That’s why you’re here. Pass me a pussy willow, will you?”
I snatch a twig out.
“And another,” she says, placing it precisely as I scowl and pull out another stick. “Thanks.” She carries on walking, and I chase her heels. “Have dinner with him. What’s the worst that can happen?” She places her built bouquet on a stack of floral paper.
“He nearly made me come just by talking to me, Abbie,” I confess, stepping back when she swings around. “He’s a master seducer. I’m scared of the power he could have over me.”