The Obsession (Filthy Rich Americans 2) - Page 56

I gasped, banding an arm across my stomach. The evening had been one hit after another, and I wasn’t sure how many more I could take. I wanted to start the game now, because I was ready to bolt.

He calmed, his posture eased, and his head dipped down so his gaze could find the red tie clasped in his hand. “Win or lose, tonight will give me release.”

I shifted nervously on my shoes. I’d abandon them before the race started because I’d have better traction with my bare feet. “Then let’s get it over with.”

“I agree,” he said.

FOURTEEN

IT TOOK ALL OF MY STRENGTH TO STAND STILL as he approached. Macalister’s steely-eyed gaze weighed a million pounds, pressing down as he stretched the tie out between his hands and lifted it to drape over my eyes.

I sucked in a sharp breath when he leaned in. He smelled like pine and old money as he set about tying the makeshift blindfold, being careful not to catch my hair in its knot. The tie didn’t completely block my vision. If I opened my eyes, my eyelashes fluttering against the silk, I could see a sliver of light and make out my shoes on the path.

The heat of his body lingered even after his task was complete, and my blood pressure rose to the stars above in the sky. The blindfold, I’d expected, but I hadn’t anticipated how disorienting his presence would be.

“I’m going to catch you.” He whispered it beside my ear, and I jerked in response, not realizing he was still so close. His voice was pure sin. “Part of you is hoping I will.”

“No, I’m not.” I refused to accept any other concept.

I flinched at his touch when cold hands gently gripped my shoulders. They guided me to turn in place. One circle. Another. All of it was an unnecessary excuse to have his hands on me. We hadn’t moved from the center of the maze, so when the blindfold came off, it’d only take a single moment to know which way to go.

The hands released me. “Take off your dress.”

“What?” Panic dumped over me like a bucket of frigid water.

“You agreed I’m allowed to disorient you however I see fit. So, you will be naked when we do this.”

I shook my head furiously. “No.”

He was a viper slithering inside my head. “This is not difficult, nor is it something I haven’t already seen.”

I tucked my chin to my chest and furrowed my eyebrows. He believed this would slow me down and trip me up, but I wouldn’t let it. I was going to win, and nothing was going to stop me. I’d spent so long not caring what other people thought of me, I’d lost any shyness, and this included my body. If anything, tonight would be easier than the initiation because it would only be one man instead of nine, and I wouldn’t be able to see his reaction.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked it with an eagerness that sent my pounding heart into overdrive.

“No,” I snapped. I reached down and grasped the hem of my skirt, lifting the stretchy fabric. Up I pulled, taking extra care around my face not to bump the blindfold off, until the dress was collected in my hands.

I’d worn the sexy pink lace bra and panties for Royce, but a tiny inkling deep inside me was flattered when Macalister drew in a sharp, affected sigh. There was power here. Perhaps he’d made an unwise move and my nakedness would be more disorienting to him than it was to me.

The dress was pulled from my grasp, and there was rustling. He must have folded it and then discarded it on the bench beneath the fountain.

“All of it, please.” His hushed voice was full of gravel and need.

Unwanted goosebumps prickled my skin.

When I twisted my hands behind my back to undo the bra, I surrendered to the situation. I would pretend it wasn’t real. I was in one of the myths I enjoyed, some nymph being chased by a man besotted with infatuation. I’d escape, and he’d be cursed to roam the maze for eternity in search of me.

It was a pleasant night, but the breeze caressed my body and my nipples hardened into points. Taking off the bra hadn’t been that much of a challenge, but my underwear was a different story. Which was stupid. The pale pink lace was thin and essentially see-through, and what he’d said was right.

Macalister Hale had already seen me naked. There were no new secrets to be—

His demanding voice cut through the air. “What is that?”

I froze. What was he asking about? A cold finger stabbed between my ribs, and my mouth rounded into a silent ‘oh.’ And then it curved into an evil smile. “It’s a tattoo.”

Tags: Nikki Sloane Filthy Rich Americans Billionaire Romance
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