Page 99 of Captive Audience

“You can phone whoever you want if you call me hot again.”

She blinked. “I never said that.”

“You did, love. You called me yourhot boss.”

“I’m tipsy and tired. I can’t be held accountable for every dumb thing I say.”

“You’ve been flirting with me since we got to the bathroom.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, gangster.” She poked my chest again. “Three glasses of wine and I’d flirt with a toaster.”

“A toaster can’t make you come.”

“No. But I could throw it in the tub while you’re soaking.”

“Bad wife.”

“Shut up. You like me bad.”

Aye. I really fucking did.

Asha’s heated eyes scanned my torso, taking in every detail until she landed on a small circular scar just below my ribs. “Is that what I think it is?” She ran her finger over the raised flesh.

I nodded. “I have another one on my back where the bullet went right through.” I guided her other hand there so she could feel it.

Fuck. Her soft hands on me were…everything. I couldn’t stop a moan from slipping past my lips as a tremor rippled through me.

She stilled. “Are my hands cold?”

I shook my head. “No. I like them on me.”

She held my gaze, her eyes flicking between mine like she was searching for something, testing a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross.

But Asha’s hands didn’t retreat. Instead, they roamed. Hertouch trailed over my scars and tattoos, hesitant at first, then more deliberate.

I didn’t move. I let her explore, nervous that if I reacted too strongly, it would spook her and break the spell.

“Tell me about this one,” she murmured, touching my side.

“Stab wound. Five years ago.”

She winced. “Ouch.”

“Aye. Hurt like a proper bastard.”

“What about up here?” She traced her fingertips above my eyebrow.

“Brawling. Same as this one.” I pointed to the small scar on my upper lip, mostly hidden by facial hair. “I’ve shown you mine; now you show me yours.”

I’d already seen them. During our night together, I’d committed every inch of Asha’s skin to memory.

She yanked her sweater over her head.

I froze. A ragged breath left my lungs.

Christ almighty.

Tight white top with thin straps. No bra.