On top of all that, I’m not wearing my nicest bra. I was in a hurry this morning, and I was heading to work. Not that I own anything that would be especially flattering. It’s been a while since I could afford to go shopping for cute underwear. And with no one other than me to see it, it doesn’t make sense to spend that kind of money when our regular bills have skyrocketed.
Toeing off my shoes and socks, I chance a quick glance in his direction. Not surprisingly, he’s focused directly on my chest. It shouldn’t surprise me, considering he took it upon himself to unbutton my top—twice. Since I’m bending over, he’s getting an eyeful. My breasts are pushing up over the edge of the satin ribbon on the demi cups. My nipples pebble just the same.
I shimmy out of my jeans and toss them onto the bench, across from his. The clothes, sitting side by side, create such an intimate picture. I can’t bring myself to look in his direction now that I’m down to bare necessities.
Purple panties and a blue-and-black bra. Perfect, I’m as colorful as a bruise. With my bravery at an end, I grab the corner of the sheets and pull them back.
He spreads his hand over the covers on my side. I freeze, curling my fingers into the soft material as I glance at him. “All of it, Miss Santos.” This time he’s all business, wearing the same dark expression he had when we made our deal.
I pause, wanting to push back. To see if I can’t make things difficult for him. To remind him I am still a person and should be making my own decisions. But the reason we’re here is because I made a conscious decision to accept his terms, all thanks to a careless mistake. And that’s something I need to live with.
Folding an arm behind me, I set my fingers around the clasp. His attention is still on my cleavage, the bulge under the sheet becoming more prominent. Or at least, it seems like it to me. My pussy responds like it did earlier in the day, leaving me wet and half naked in front of Addler de Marco.
Once I pull the hook loose from the eye on my bra clasp, the material sags. The cup on the right slips down an inch, held in place by the prominent tip of my nipple. My breathing is nudging it down. The heat in his gaze is incredible. I’m lost somewhere between feeling insecure and enjoying the fact he wants to look. I swallow hard then add the bra to the pile of clothes.
Before I can lose my nerve, I hook my thumbs into the elastic at my hips. Taking a deep breath, I push the panties down, conscious of the damp section at the crotch. Don’t think about him watching. But anyone who says they can ignore Addler de Marco is a liar. Despite my pep talk, I can’t stop myself from looking.
His gaze travels down my body, pausing at the V of my legs. I relive that moment where his fingers were over my clit, moving in tight circles. Is that what’s going through his head also? The silence is nerve-racking. “Better?” I ask, trying to keep the bite from my voice.
His gaze takes a lazy trek up to my face, making my cheeks even warmer. It takes everything in me to act as if the pulse between my legs isn’t beating like crazy.
He stretches his fingers out and pulls back the sheets, inviting me into his bed. I guess Marcy was wrong. She thought I’d never get anywhere with a guy like Addler. Though truthfully, I’m not the one looking to hook up with him. It’s the other way around.
I slip into the softest sheets I’ve ever felt. Pulling the cover over me, I settle in, leaving a large gap between us. Addler stretches back to turn off the light as I watch with trepidation. That hint of amusement is back at the corner of his lips as the room goes dark. Jerk.
The mattress shifts as he sinks lower, pulling the sheet over himself. I hold my breath. When will he move? What will he do first? My senses are heightened. I swallow hard, waiting, my nerves stretched tight.
Nothing happens. What’s he up to? A minute goes by. Then another. I’m lying here, toes curling in anticipation until I’m ready to snap. This must be how a mouse feels when the cat comes into the room.
“Good night,” I say into the darkness.
“Good night, Elena,” he replies, sounding like he’s still on the other side of the bed.
I turn on my side, facing away. It feels like I’ve put up a barrier between us. He’s messing with me. I know it. I’m just not sure what he’s up to other than trying to drive me nuts, and succeeding.
“Do you always sleep on your right side?” His voice comes out of the darkness.
I narrow my eyes, glancing over my shoulder, as if I could see anything. “Yes. Always,” I add, with emphasis. See how he likes that.
Then his breath fans over my shoulder. His arm snakes under my chest, and I’m lifted off the mattress as if I don’t weigh a thing.