Dirty Devil. Jackie Ashenden
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dick was not happy with me stopping her.
Too bad. It would live.
‘Just to be clear,’ she said, ‘So we don’t have any “misunderstandings”. You don’t want me to give you a blow job?’
‘No. Like I said, I changed my mind.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m a lot of things, Sugar. But I’m not a man who takes advantage of women.’ I gave the back of her hand a reassuring stroke with my thumb. ‘Even women who break into my office and lie straight to my face.’
Another flicker in her eyes, and this time it was definitely fear.
It wasn’t an emotion I liked to see in a woman’s face.
‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ I said before she could reply, giving her another stroke to calm her. ‘But you broke in here. And I can’t have—’
She pulled one hand out from under mine and without hesitation laid her warm palm directly over my fly and squeezed.
I jerked as lightning shot through me in response, jagged and sharp, igniting sparks in my blood and making my stupid dick very happy indeed.
Fucking hell.
‘Naughty girl,’ I said roughly. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
Her lashes fluttered, thick, black and silky. ‘Seems to me like some parts of you haven’t changed their minds.’
Jesus. Determined little thing, wasn’t she?
‘Yeah, but those parts aren’t in charge.’ I pressed her palm against me so she couldn’t move it. Which was probably a mistake, given how good the pressure felt. ‘On your feet.’
But she stayed where she was. Again.
‘Oh, come on,’ she murmured. ‘What kind of playboy says no to a blow job?’ And she gave my dick another squeeze, as if to prove her point.
More lightning strikes of pleasure shot through me, bright and intense, making my breath catch.
Holy fuck. I’d never had a reaction like this to a woman handling my cock. What the hell was she doing to me? And why her?
I tried to pull myself together, pressing down hard on her hand so she couldn’t move it. She was staring up at me, giving me a smoky look, yet I hadn’t missed that shake in her fingers as she’d touched me. She might act as though she’d seduced thousands of men, but I’d bet all my billions that she hadn’t.
‘I know what you’re doing,’ I said. ‘But I’m afraid that shit’s not going to fly. I prefer a blow job where everyone’s into it and no one has any ulterior motives except to get naked, understand?’
Her brows rose. ‘And yet you’re still standing here.’
Fuck.
She’s got you.
I opened my mouth to respond—though Christ knew what I was going to say—when she leaned forward, pressing her tight, warm body against my legs. ‘You don’t know me. Getting naked might be exactly what I want to do.’ She was soft against me, and hot, and then she leaned farther in, brushing her mouth over the back of my hand. ‘Shall I get naked for you, Mr Blackwood? Is that what you’d like?’
Mr Blackwood.
It shouldn’t have made any difference. I had women say that kind of shit to me all the time. But there was something about this particular woman... She’d gone from frightened waitress, to nervous stalker, to practised seductress in the space of five minutes and damn if that didn’t make me even more fascinated than I already was.
Which one was the real her? Was any of them the real her? Or was she someone different? Was the real woman hiding deep inside, just waiting for the right man to come and find her?
Desire and fascination wound together, tightening their grip on me.
It had been a long time since I’d had a woman like this one. A woman I couldn’t read and didn’t know just by looking at her. A very long time...
Yeah, and you discovered her hiding under your desk, don’t forget. Not only do you have no idea who she is, you also have no idea what she’s doing here.
This was true. And security was an issue when you were as rich as I was. Which meant letting myself get side-tracked like this was the height of stupidity.
I stared down into her bittersweet chocolate eyes, saw the glaze of heat in them. Her pupils were dilated, the pulse at the base of her lovely throat fast, all the classic signs of physical arousal.
She wasn’t faking this, that was for sure.
Keeping one hand over hers against my fly, I reached down with the other, taking her chin in my fingers and gripping her. ‘I don’t sleep with women who don’t want me,’ I said flatly, holding her gaze so she knew how serious I was. ‘And I fucking hate being used.’
Her chin got a stubborn slant, the muscles in her jaw tightening. ‘I’m not using you.’
‘Sure you are. You’re using me—or rather my cock—as a nice little distraction technique.’
For a second she said nothing. Then her face emptied of the flirty expression that had been there before, the mask of the practised seductress dropping. ‘Okay, so maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s what I was planning on doing.’ Her eyes were very dark in her pale face, but there was no mistaking the heat in them. ‘Except, now, I just want you.’
I gritted my teeth because, shit, this wasn’t a mask now. The truth was all laid out for me to see in her beautiful eyes and in the raw note in her voice.
She did want me. And my cock liked that far too much for its own good—or mine, for that matter.
You should be calling Clarence, not thinking about taking her up on her offer.
This was sadly true. She was a serious security breach and one I couldn’t let slide.
I stroked my thumb over the line of her jaw, enjoying the warm, silky feeling of her skin, watching her eyes widen fractionally as I did so. ‘That all sounds very convincing,’ I said. ‘And perhaps you’re telling the truth. But I’ve got a lot of enemies. And you’re here where you’re not supposed to be, which can lead me to several conclusions, if you catch my drift.’
‘What conclusions?’
‘Oh, conclusions such as you being an assassin sent to kill me.’
‘No.’ Her throat moved as I touched her, a convulsive swallow, but she didn’t pull away. ‘I’m not here to kill you. If I was, you’d be dead already.’
I laughed at that. ‘So sure of yourself. I like confidence in a woman. Okay, so if you’re not here to kill me, maybe you’re here to rob me instead. Is that it? Have I got something you want?’
She didn’t answer, turning her head suddenly, and before I could move her lips had closed around my thumb.
My breath caught. Hard. Her mouth was hot and wet, her tongue tracing the tip of my thumb, her gaze on mine. Watching me. Gauging my response.
Little witch. She could see what she was doing to me and, unfortunately, being a man meant I couldn’t hide it. Not that I particularly wanted to hide it, because quite honestly, I was starting to get past caring.
I didn’t often deny myself what I wanted and I couldn’t see any reason to deny myself now. Or her, for that matter, given she’d made it very clear she wanted to do this.
And, really, how much could she get up to on her knees in front of me?
My brain was shutting down, all the blood in my body heading straight to my goddamn cock. And all I was conscious of was the heat of her mouth and the