Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(193)

I needed to get away.

Sliding carefully down the bed I untangled myself from the sheets and crawled backward as slowly as I could manage. When my feet hit the floor, I dropped to all fours and scanned the carpet for my dress and shoes which were still by the sofa.

My panties were nowhere to be seen. Happily, my bra was only a few feet from where my dress lay in a crumpled heap. I hoped that Melita had a dry cleaner she trusted.

I got my bra back on and wriggled the dress up over my hips. Reaching back, I had the zipper about halfway up before my flexibility and finger strength gave out. Then I felt someone else's fingers taking over and I let my arms drop to my sides.

“Let me do that for you,” Lyle said with a sleepy sigh.

His hands dragged the zipper up slowly and it was such an intimate gesture that I almost wanted to fall into his arms again immediately.

What is wrong with you? It's only a zipper.

His lips traced the curve of my shoulder.

“You know, you don't have to leave. In fact, I would really rather you didn't."

I took a deep breath.

“Oh I think we've all had our fun,” I said with a light lilt in my voice, surprised at how well I kept the bitterness out.

He nodded against my shoulder, nuzzling me with his cheek. His hands slipped around the front of my dress and he pulled me close to him. I could feel his heavy cock pushing between my thighs again and another wave of memories flooded through the door, along with a sadness I couldn't explain.

I turned toward him and placed my hands against his chest, cupping my palms across the swells of his muscular pecs. It felt strange to be clothed while he stood there completely naked. Once again I was amazed at how comfortable he was with no clothes on as though he feared no judgment or criticism at all.

“I had such a wonderful time tonight,” I said, my voice suddenly going hoarse.

He grinned openly. “I told you you would.”

His smile was infectious and I let a grin pinch my cheeks. “Yes you did tell me that.”

I could have stood there all night and stroked his chest and shoulders and simply feasted my eyes on his long, strong form. But I didn't think my heart could take it. I wanted very much to go home.

“Thank you for everything,” I whispered as I slid my feet back into my heels and picked my handbag up off of the table.

“Thank you,” he growled, stepping forward and catching my jaw gracefully between his palms. He tipped my head back and gave me a long, lingering kiss. He just stood there sucking lightly at my lips, a vivid contrast to the raging hunger that he had displayed just a few hours ago.

When he finally pulled back he left me breathless. I had two competing desires in my mind: part of me desperately wanted to leave and part of me desperately wanted to stay.

I stumbled forward and smiled as I felt my cheeks go pink again. It seemed like it was so easy for him to simply connect with me. I felt raw and at the same time knew that the best salve was just to touch him again. And yet I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

“When will we see you again?” he asked.

“I'll have that proposal for you in a couple of days,” I answered smoothly.

“Well that wasn't what I —”

“I know,” I interrupted him. “But it is what I meant.”

He nodded curtly as though accepting my answer.

I walked away from him and opened the door without looking back to make sure that I didn't lose the will to leave.

The light in the hallway was harsh and bright. It had that new carpet smell and everything seemed to have been recently redecorated. I looked over my shoulder and noticed how clean everything was. Or perhaps these kinds of luxury establishments were just always in a state of newness.

The penthouse door began to swing closely closed, the hydraulics hissing softly. I looked the other way down the hallway and saw two figures coming toward me laughing, falling into each other. She had her shoes dangling from her fingers and he held her with both arms around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his front side.

My lips tightened. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the door was still open. When I glanced back, the couple had stopped. Carl stood with his mouth hanging open, his face going gray and bloodless. Whitney's rust red lips opened in a perfect O of surprise and her fingers shot forward as though she was determined once again to get to me. I felt steel bands clamp around my rib cage and all my breath seemed to curdle in my lungs.

The door finally closed, click. My only escape was gone. I was going to have to walk down the hall.



End of “Jacks” Book 1 of Billionaire Brothers, II. Click here to continue reading “Billionaire Brothers, II” now…





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Meg Watson