Tell Me You Want Me - Page 10

“Thank you,” I say, barely getting out the words before I’m left alone in the back of the car, until Adrian climbs in on his side.

It’s a Mercedes, one of the new ones from this year, and it smells like he just drove it off the lot. Adrian’s driver rolls up the divider that separates the spacious back seat from the front the moment he gets in.

Adrian sprawls out on the seat next to me as the driver navigates the city streets. He’s on his phone like nothing happened and I try to act like nothing happened too. I’m having a bit of trouble with that. He seems casual, swiping at the screen and no doubt answering emails, but there’s tension crackling between us. No matter how hard he tries to make this into nothing, it’s anything but.

Gaining a semblance of balance and sanity, I peer up at him and say, as clearly as I can, “I’m not a toy to be played with.”

He glances at me, then slips his phone into his back pocket. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”

My face reddens. “I did. But that doesn’t mean it can continue or that my job …” my voice trails off and I can barely swallow. What the fuck did I just do?

He studies me with his pale blue gaze. “Would you like it, though?” There’s far too much space between us in the back seat of his car. Adrian’s taking care not to touch me. It feels deliberate. He doesn’t move his body toward me or reach for me, but I can still feel his hands on me from just a moment ago. I can feel where he gripped my ass and held me close for a kiss by my neck, and where he stroked between my legs. “Would you like it if I toyed with you again?” he asks, his voice low and his words sinful.

The rest of my body feels as hot as my face. Now that we’re out of the office and away from the moment, I can’t believe it happened. What was I thinking? I can’t answer him, because I’m not sure of myself enough to speak. It’s all too much and far too fast. Suffocating.

“I’d like an answer, Suzette,” he says and his murmur is laced with something different. Concern.

Swallowing thickly, I admit, “I enjoyed it very much, but now—”

“I enjoyed it immensely and I intend to toy with you, to fuck you until you’re as limp as a little ragdoll, and to walk back into the office tomorrow knowing full damn well you may give me hell.”

The leather groans in protest as he leans back, moving farther away as he studies me. “Nothing that just happened will interfere with our work,” he reassures me.

With a jostle of the vehicle, the driver pulls the car to the curb, and I blink at the scenery outside my window. The Waldorf, another public arena for his games … and a far too expensive one at that. I murmur, “You should take me home.”

He’s silent for a moment, just watching me. “If that’s what you’d like. I believe I owe you more than just a drink, though, Suzette.”

Hearing my name from his lips like that … like every syllable rolls off his tongue as if he was the first to utter them, turns me even hotter. It also makes me speechless, which isn’t like me at all. None of this is like me at all. I don’t get swept up into anything.

Adrian holds me in place with his piercing gaze. “I’d very much like to play with you, Suzette. I’d like to kiss you. I’d like to fuck you. And not just because you’re a pretty little thing who stormed into my office making demands you have no authority to make.”

With every word, he inches closer to me until he’s close enough to kiss me. The proximity is comforting in a way I don’t care to admit. Adrian actually leans down and does it. He kisses me full on the mouth, his lips steady and confident. When he pulls back I have to keep my hands in my lap from grabbing his shirt.

“It was a brutal day, and the only thing that kept me grounded and kept me looking forward to tonight was the very idea that you were coming to my office to do exactly what you did.” His admission shocks me.

“Adrian …”

“You may see me as ruthless and heartless, and you may not like what I do, but I’d like to see you again. In and out of the office.”

It’s strange for him to admit this to me. Most men won’t ever acknowledge they’re aware of other people’s feelings. Men like Adrian aren’t supposed to care what anyone else thinks. It’s possible he doesn’t care, but at least he’s aware of it. It causes a shift in the way I see him. The hatred softens and becomes something else.

Tags: Willow Winters Billionaire Romance
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