Page 229 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Solene

"The fuck?"

He glares at me, a look of surprise and anger on his face.

The scent of alcohol permeates the air. I promised myself I wouldn’t lose my temper.

Told myself I was going to talk to him reasonably and ask him for an explanation for why he simply cut off all communication with me.

But the moment I saw him, relaxed and kicked back in his armchair, talking with his friends like he hadn't a care in the world, something shattered inside of me.

My gaze narrowed, adrenaline emptied into my blood stream, and before I could stop myself, I stomped over to him, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and upturned it over his head.

"That was a very expensive whiskey," he growls.

"You can afford it."

"Oh?" He tilts his head.

There’s a chuckle behind me, cut off quickly when I turn to find the two men with him surveying the proceedings with big smiles on their faces.

One of them looks familiar and also sports a military haircut. He rises to his feet and holds out his hand. "I’m Knight, Abby’s brother."

"Of course. I thought I recognized you."

His grin widens. "She’ll be pleased to see you."

"I can’t wait to see her, either. In fact,"—I place the now empty bottle of whiskey on the table—"since my work here is done, I think I’ll head over to say hi to her right away." I turn to leave.

"You’re not going anywhere," Declan growls.

I turn back to scowl at him. "I’d like to see you try to stop me, asshole."

"Ah, I think I’m late for my next appointment." Knight steps back from the both of us. "Good to see you again, Solene."

"Likewise," I call out.

Knight claps the back of the head of the other guy. "Time to go, shitstain."

Charming.

"And just as it was getting interesting." The other guy slowly rises to his feet. "I’m Cade." He holds out his hand.

I go to take it, when Declan makes a warning sound at the back of his throat.

I ignore it, move toward Cade and take his hand. When he brings my fingers to his lips, there’s a full-on growl from somewhere behind me. The next moment, Declan marches over and stands between us.

"Unhand her," he snaps.

I gape at him.

Cade smirks, but he releases my hand. "A pleasure, Solene. Not so much, arsewipe." He nods in Declan’s direction. "Also, you stink."

He pivots and follows in Knight’s footsteps.

"Don’t know why you’re getting all possessive when I haven’t seen you in over a month."

"I called you," he protests.

"Twice, you stronzo. You called me twice."

"I did message you."

"Like that counts," I huff.

"I’ve been busy. You know how it is on set." He raises a shoulder.

I stare. "And on your time off, you came here to meet your friends?"

"So?"

"So?" I take in the lack of regret on his face. Oh god, he doesn’t care about me at all. It’s why he hasn't been in touch. And like a fool, I ignored it. And I tracked him down—with Rick’s help—and here I am, foisting myself on him when he, clearly, doesn’t want anything to do with me.

I swallow. "I made a mistake. I don’t know why I bothered coming here to talk with you. "

I turn to leave, but he locks his fingers around my wrist. "Fuck, I’m sorry Solene. Truly. You took me by surprise, is all."

"That gives you no right to hurt me. And you do, Declan, more than you know." I keep my face averted. "I was taking a risk that you’d walk all over me when I came here. I wish I’d paid more attention to my instincts and stayed away."

"I’m glad you didn’t."

I will not look at him. Will not. I try to tug my arm out his grip, but he pulls me in.

"Please, Solene, please forgive me."

"Fuck you," I spit out.

"I very much want to."

"If you think I’m going to let you, you’re sadly mistaken. Not after you treated me like I mean nothing."

"It's not that you mean nothing to me. You’re crawling under my skin. You’re occupying my thoughts, my every waking moment. I’m not even able to concentrate on shooting the most important movie of my career because I can’t focus on anything but you."

"Well, boohoo, like I give a damn."

Once more, I try to move away from him, but he tugs on my arm. I yelp and stumble against him. He wraps his arms about me and pulls me up to my toes and into him.

"Ugh, you’re all wet and stink like a distillery."

"And whose fault is that, huh?"

"Yours, of course. You pissed me off," I retort.

"So much sass, so much fire. So much everything. It makes me want to—"

"What?" I tip up my chin. "What, huh?"

A gleam comes into his eyes.

Uh, oh. This is not good. Not good at all. I poured the whiskey down his shirt, and he’s not going to allow me to walk away without making me pay for it. I try to move back, but his hold around me tightens. The column in his pants stabs into my lower belly, and a treacherous heat coils there.

"It makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here to spank you, then fuck you, until you remember never to do that again."

Oh, my god! My pussy clenches. My toes curl. "Don’t you dare—"

He clicks his tongue. "I wouldn’t complete that sentence if I were you."

I set my lips. "I’ll say what I want, when I want."

"Is that right?" His gaze intensifies.

"Yes, and can you please let go of me now?"

He does. Only, before I can move away, he bends, and the next moment, I’m hoisted over his shoulder. What the— Before I can catch my breath, he’s marching off.

"Let me go!" I yell.

In answer, he spanks my behind. My clit throbs in response.

It’s like there’s a direct connection from the point of contact to my core.

I’m so turned on, and hell, if that doesn’t make me even angrier.

I writhe and struggle, but his hold on me tightens.

My hair hangs over my face, blocking my line of sight.

I feel so helpless, and so small, in comparison to his superior strength.

My nipples harden, and my thighs shudder.

I continue to buck and heave. I lock my fingers together and bring my joined hands down on his back, but he doesn’t even flinch.

I hear the sound of voices, then he’s out of the club, heading down the steps and through a corridor.

The lights change to a harsh fluorescent from the warmer glow of the club, and his footsteps echo through the space.

He must be taking the back exit. Sure enough, I hear more voices, then he shoulders open a door and steps into what seems to be an alley.

The next second, I hear the sound of a car’s engine, and he tosses me into the back seat of the same car Rick drove me here in.

I instantly straighten. "I hate you." I throw myself at him as he slides in behind me, and he catches me and holds me against his chest. He slams the button in the door, and the partition behind the driver’s seat begins to rise.

I catch sight of Rick focused on the road a second before the panel shuts us off.

"How dare you!" I open my mouth, only his lips are on mine.

I try to yell, but he absorbs the sound.

I slap at his shoulder, but he locks his arm about my waist and yanks me into his lap.

I wriggle, squirm, twist my body and try to pull away; my butt pushes into the thickness at his crotch and I freeze.

That size of him, that solidness, that absolute maleness of his—oh, how I have missed this.

Yes, he did message me and call me, but that's no substitute for actually being here, in his arms, on his lap, grinding on the column on his cock.

It feels so good. Soooo. Good. I moan into his mouth.

He tightens his grip on my hips and pulls me down so he’s stabbing into my core.

Even through the fabric of his pants and my jeans, I feel his shaft throb.

I groan, and this time, he deepens the kiss.

He thrusts his tongue inside my mouth, then begins to thrust up and into me.

Each time he pistons up, he hits the nub of my clit.

Flickers of sensation reverberate up my spine. My breasts seem to swell.

He releases his hold on my hips, only to cup my breasts. He massages them, and I huff. He twists my nipples between his fingers, and fire zips down to my clit. My pussy clenches, and he must feel it, for he tears his mouth from mine. "I need inside of you."

I reach down between us, unzip my jeans, and rise up to my knees long enough for him to yank them down with my panties.

I shrug them off, along with my sneakers, then look down to find he’s shoved his own zipper down.

His cock springs free. It juts up—hard, thick, veiny, precum oozing from the head.

He pulls me onto his lap and holds my hips, so I’m positioned right over his shaft.

"Take off your top and your bra."

I comply.

"Now, look at me," he orders.

I glance up; our eyes meet. Once more, I’m locked into the tractor beam of those gorgeous blue eyes. He applies pressure, and I push down and over his cock. When he breaches me, we both groan.

His chest rises and falls. The tendons of his throat flex.

I lean in, bury my nose in the curve of his neck and breathe.

My lungs fill with Declan. Notes of dark chocolate and coffee.

Temptation. Complex. Erotic. Filling. He yanks on my hips, I slide down, and he impales me completely.

I throw my head back and moan. The sensitive skin of my inner thighs chafes over the hair at the base of his shaft. "Oh, god, Declan."

"Eyes on me, Rabbit."

I lower my head, once more meeting his gaze.

"I’m going to destroy your pussy."