Hardwired(65)

I cringed, hating that he was right. The whole situation embarrassed and ashamed me. “He caught me off guard. I could have handled it if you’d let me.”

“Would you have had Max go with you, as an investor?”

I tapped my toe on the pavement. This was a trick question. “Blake, it’s not realistic for you to be with me for every business meeting. Let’s not go there.”

“Answer me.”

I hesitated. “Maybe.”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll fund the business. I’ll call Max and let him know the deal is off.” He dug into his pocket.

“No, stop right there. This is my business. I make these decisions, not you.” I’d barely stopped shaking from Isaac’s advances. Now the threat of Blake calling Max under these extreme circumstances had ratcheted my panic to a whole different level. My mind raced, frantically trying to stay ahead of wherever Blake was going with this.

“Right. And you need two million dollars to continue running it and maintaining the lifestyle which you currently enjoy,” he said.

I stilled. “Are you threatening me with the apartment? Say the word, and I’ll pack my things right now. You’re the one who forced me into it.”

He ran his hands through his already tousled hair, his breath whistling through clenched teeth. “Just take the money and we can forget about all this.”

“Blake, we have a relationship, or at least we did twenty minutes ago, which I think you can agree is complicated enough. I’m not taking your money, so let’s just forget it.”

He paused, holding me in a penetrating stare. “You don’t trust me.”

The words cut me to the core. Not because he felt that way, but because they were true. I trusted Blake on many levels, but keeping the business on my terms was imperative.

Unable to formulate a convincing response, I pushed through the doors of the building and nearly ran into Cady and Sid walking into her apartment. Blake barreled in after me.

I offered a quick hello and goodbye before climbing the stairs up to the apartment. Blake followed me all the way to the bedroom. I didn’t argue.

“Clothes, off,” I ordered, directing him with my index finger.

My mind was an epic jumble, and I could think of no better cure than to fuck Blake straight to oblivion. As it was, I’d thought of little else for the better part of the day.

His eyebrows arched. “Shouldn’t we talk about this?”

“Did I stutter? Clothes. Off.” I cocked my head, daring him to argue.

He paused another minute, then undressed completely. As the last garment hit the floor, I stared in awe at the specimen at my mercy in front of me. Every sliver of flesh stretched tight over the sculpted muscles beneath. My fingers itched with the urge to run my fingers all over them, to feel them flex beneath me, above me, inside me. My anger slipped away, rapidly replaced with the craving I’d been staving off for hours.

The longer I looked at him, the harder he got. His expression was calm, but the longing that flashed behind his eyes reflected my own. I snapped into action, giving him a little shove onto the bed. He reached for me but I stepped back, stripping down, taking extra time to remove my white lacy bra and panties that I had chosen just for him.

I climbed him leisurely, systematically kissing his throat, his chest, nibbling the dark disks of nipples as they hardened under my touch. I finally turned my attention to his cock, tonguing his length and licking off the drop of pre-cum at its tip, savoring his flavor before gliding him into my mouth, deeper until he hit the back of my throat.

“Christ, Erica.” He sucked in a sharp breath.

I reveled at the small victory. He was much better at the self-control game, never letting on that I was tormenting him with my touches until now. His thighs were taut with restraint when I released him, sliding him out of my mouth with slow retreat.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Come here, and I’ll show you.” His eyes were half-lidded and dark with lust.

My body hummed. I positioned myself above his cock and inched onto him slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his length.

A wave of heat rolled over me as I sheathed him completely. I rose, and he grabbed my hips, slamming me down onto him, reminding me of the place inside me that only he could satisfy. I threw my head back and cursed. I stilled, overcome with how well we fit, how no one else had ever come close to this.

He grasped my hips and tried to flip me, but I angled away so he couldn’t.

“No,” I said firmly.

He stilled and loosened his hold. “We should probably talk about safewords.”

“That is my safeword. When I say no, trust me, I mean it.”