Becoming The Boss. Zuri Day
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stopped him. Out sneaked his tongue and he licked the small loop and diamond-studded ball.
Cool was the silver against the tip of his tongue, and her soft flesh was a welcome splash of warmth as an aftertaste.
Holy…
She tasted of passion fruit and coconut and something else he couldn’t quite catch, so he knew it would torment him.
That was it. He was a goner. He even felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. Wondered if hers were doing the same.
‘You got any more?’ he asked thickly, nuzzling her navel with the tip of his nose. All the while he was commanding his legs to stand up and back the hell away.
‘M…more?’ she said, or at least she tried to.
The way her midriff quivered he could tell her breathing was as bad as his.
‘Piercings.’
‘Piercings?’
What was she? A parrot?
‘Yes!’
‘No. No more…piercings.’
He moaned low in his throat. ‘But something else, right?’
Silence. Only the staccato wisp of a desperate moan from her lips.
‘Tell me,’ he demanded.
So of course she said, ‘No.’
‘Oh, man, you’re killing me, Serena.’ Up he came, standing tall to press closer. To crush those gorgeous breasts against his chest.
When was the last time he’d felt like this? Like his old self but astoundingly better because his ever-present guard was low. Risky. So risky.
But when was the last time he’d thought about anything but Singapore? In one way it physically hurt to be near her, aware that he caused her pain. But in the next second he was a man again and there was heat. So much heat. Scorching his blood in a rush of need and pure want. Never had he felt anything like it.
Selfish as always, he wanted—no, needed one more taste.
‘I warned you, baby. You should’ve left when you had the chance.’
Desperate to savour as much of her as he could, he dived into the heavy fall of her hair and closed the gap until they were nose-tip to nose-tip.
‘This is crazy, but—do you feel this?’ he asked, unable to hide the awe in his voice.
Fighting to keep her eyes open, she shook her head, rubbing his nose with her own. ‘No…’ she breathed on a hot little pant.
‘Good. Me neither.’
Softly, languidly, he brushed his lips over her velvety pink flesh and the pounding of his heart jacked out of rhythm. Then the need that continually clawed at him grew steel-tipped talons and slashed through his gut, demanding he mark her, take her, glut himself on her.
And she was melting. There was no other word for it.
‘I’m…’ Hard. So hard. For the first time in almost a year.
Thought obliterated, he crushed her body into the wall, then slanted his head and deepened his kiss. Like dynamite they ignited, and when she responded with a tentative stroke of her tongue his hands began to shake.
Her mouth was heaven—warm and wet, with the slip and slide of passionate lips—but, greedy as he was, he wanted more. A deeper connection. He longed for her to move, to touch him properly, covet his body with her small hands, be skin-to-skin. Claim him. Brand him as her own. Which was not only bizarre but hellishly scary.
Still the need went on. Because he wanted her to feel how hard he was for her, to know what she did to him, how sexy and desirable she was—
Whoosh! The door swung open with a bellow of male voices and they were flung apart as if electrocuted. It was comical in a way. Serena was visibly rattled and he doubted he looked much better. And since when had that ever happened?
She whipped the black fabric around her waist, veiling her body, and fumbled with the sash—her jerky movements made his heart thunder in a fiercely savage urge to protect.
‘We leave now,’ he commanded, livid that he’d placed her in this position.
They were halfway to the door when one of the men broke into laughter as he settled at a gaming table.
Serena crashed to a halt. Stared at the man’s back. Paled to a ghostly white. And Finn’s guts twisted, tying him into knots. ‘Hey, baby?’ he murmured. ‘What’s wrong?’
In response she bolted past one of the other guests like a mare from the starting gate, almost knocking that man off his feet as she virtually ran out the door.
What the…?
By the time he caught up she was galloping down the hallway.
‘Serena, stop. Stop!’
Edging his way to stand in front of her, before she trampled over half the Casino members, he slipped his finger under her chin and lifted it gently.
‘Look at me. Speak to me. Do you know that guy?’
‘No.’ Hands trembling, she gripped the lapels of his jacket and leaned into him.
Finn could feel her warm breath through his shirt as she burrowed as if starved of affection, and he instinctively pulled her into the tight circle of his arms.
Holding her was like a chorus of pleasure and pain that struck at his guilt but sang a sweet note of solace, and he luxuriated in the feel of her.
‘No!’ She twisted and rolled her shoulders to wrench free. ‘Get off me, Finn. Right now.’
Feet leaden, he took a step back, fists plunging to his sides.
Remorse and mortification darkened the grey hue of her eyes and he swallowed hard, knowing. It was Finn who was the issue here. She was ashamed of wanting him, crestfallen at her reaction to him, horrified she’d kissed him back at all.
Well, then… Considering the destruction he’d caused in his life, it was highly indicative and somewhat poignant that he’d never hated himself more.
SHE WAS HEARING voices, seeing things. She must be. That laugh was dead and buried but still it crawled through her veins like venom.
Gorging on air, she calmed the violent crash of her heart before she completely lost her mind and tried to snuggle into Finn again. Come on, Serena. Snuggle? Being weak and needy was not a condition she’d ever aspired to.
Honestly, this night couldn’t get any worse. Charging up here to confront him hadn’t been the brightest idea, but she’d had an entirely different kind of tongue-lashing in mind.
Forget lethal weapon—the man was a nuclear bomb. And his kiss… Holy moly. There she’d been, quite content to pretend their last lip-lock had been an apparition. Why bother to remember when it couldn’t possibly have been that shockingly good?
Except it was that shockingly good. And bad all at the same time.
Her reactions to him were ridiculously extreme. It was as if he flipped a two-way switch inside her—hate or lust. Which just made no sense. She’d kissed men she’d actually liked before and been slammed in a freezer, yet one touch from Lothario here and she burst into flames!
Sheer panic had her scrambling for perspective. Truthfully, she shouldn’t feel so disgusted with herself, so humiliated for succumbing to him. Not when the entire female race swooned at those extraordinary cerulean eyes. Expired at that sinful, sensual mouth. And that was before he backed it up with