Let's Play A Dirty Ass Game, Mr. CEO

Chapter 47: TORTURE ME, PLEASE

LAURA

My brain screamed at me to get up and run without looking back. But I refused.

Instead, I leaned back in the seat and watched him with a level gaze. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Freeing some buttons."

"Is that what you called me here for? To sit here and watch you try to seduce me?"

Something crossed his expression. Surprise. Amusement. I couldn’t catch it before it was gone.

"I think you misinterpreted my question."

I arched my brow. "Seems to me like that was the intention."

He lifted his arms in surrender and dropped into his seat. Then his fingers flew across the keyboard one moment before he turned the screen towards me.

"I already had a look. You should make your pick. I’ll get you something to drink."

"Nothing strong, preferably."

He nodded, rising to his feet. "Got it."

Then he made long strides away from the table and my gaze dropped to his ass, watching the muscles clench with every movement.

My pussy throbbed in approval. I almost grunted in frustration.

Reluctantly, I dropped my gaze to the screen, and my jaw dropped for the second time in the space of five minutes.

Oh my fucking goodness. These pictures were absolute gumdrop. A sight to behold, each one stole my breath away.

Tristan and I looked as professional as possible, but looking at us standing next to each other now, I could feel why there was so much sexual tension between us.

Tristan was eye candy.

And I was dainty and petite next to him.

We were what the conventional world would call the ideal match.

Every single picture spoke of our physical compatibility in loud volumes. From the way our bodies curved against each other like they were made for each other, not even touching but perfect together.

For a split second, I was convinced that this partnership could really work.

"Yeah, that was exactly my reaction." Tristan’s voice broke through my thoughts across the room. I looked up to see him watching me with a smug smile. "We look too damn good together to not be together." His eyes twinkled as they moved down my body. "It would be a crime to not be together."

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the pictures.

"I hate to agree with you, but you’re right. I mean, about the pictures," I quickly added, blushing. "I’m finding it difficult making a choice here."

"We can do it together. Together is the key word." He walked over with a lazy grin and handed me a glass of wine.

I ran my nostrils across the rim before taking a sip. Chilled Moscato hit my tongue and slid down my throat smoothly. "Wine," I said as I dropped the glass. "What are we celebrating?"

"Looking good. Together."

I exhaled my exasperation and leaned forward. Then I used my fingers to swipe through the pictures.

"Is there a particular concept we’re looking for?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the fact that he stared at me so intently without flinching or caring how that affected me in my heart and between my legs.

"Just something that screams partnership and fashion. As you know, you’ll be working more with the fashion franchises."

He walked around the table to where I sat. Nervous energy washed through me and in a fit, I grabbed the glass and downed the rest of the wine.

A lightness flushed into my system and through my veins. The heat from Tristan’s body caressed my skin as he got closer. The tighter the space between us got, the more difficult it was to concentrate on the screen and what my blurred vision could make out.

"So, which is your pick?"

I cleared my throat and squirmed in my seat. "Are you in a hurry or something?"

He paused mere inches away and tilted his head. "I was under the impression you were."

I stared up at him for a few long moments, my heart suddenly beating hard in my chest. My body tingled feverishly under his gaze. My thighs were slick with my juices in the short corporate skirt. And as if he could sense it, his eyes moved there and lingered.

His jaw ticked. A single muscle throbbed there. He looked like he was struggling with control. "Do you need more wine?"

In response, I got up slowly and crossed the distance between them. "What are the things you think about when you’re alone?"

Just like that. I switched the fucking conversation like an unhinged, sex-starved bitch.

Tristan looked really taken aback by the question, and it sent a thrill racing through my veins. I felt light-headed. Power. It was either that or the wine.

"Things like?" Tristan’s eyes twinkled as they studied. We stood so close to each other now...so close. Yet, he wouldn’t touch me. He looked like he wanted to grab and devour me. Yet he wasn’t.

It angered me for some reason. That anger fueled my courage.

"Things like this." Without warning, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his neck, the part that pulsed with life. He shuddered beneath my touch, and I thought I heard a strangled moan.

When I stepped back, my eyes shone bright with triumph. And his were dark with hunger and desire.

"You, Laura," he said with a voice thick with need. "You’re all I think about every fucking minute of the day. Alone. At work. In the shower. In the car." Something broke in his expression and it looked like it was his desire spilling just before it lost full control. "You’ve corrupted my mind. My soul. Every part of me. When I touch my cock, it’s you I think of—"

I didn’t stop to think for one minute. I kissed him.

The kind where you press your lips to theirs and push your tongue in with a shameless urgency.

Electricity struck through my veins at the contact of our tongues, and I pulled away very fast.

God. What have I just done?

Tristan opened his mouth to speak a few times, and each time, he failed to say a word.

What the fuck have I just done? Did I spook him? Is he disgusted? Does he think I’m the unprofessional one now?

What is wrong with me?

I was still struggling to understand it when my body acted on its own again. Maybe it was because of the way Tristan was looking at me. Or maybe it was the way his lips had tasted. Or maybe it was the way those soft lips glistened in the dim glow of the evening sunlight.

Whatever it was, I couldn’t resist kissing Tristan again. This time, as my lips met his in a searing hunger, he gripped my hips with strong, skilled hands and pulled me flush against him.

The contact of his fingers sent a jolt of heat straight to my pussy. I was wet already, and it was such a torture.

So I pulled back and slapped him. Not too hard, but hard enough to make him wince. Maybe it was the sudden emptiness I felt from the loss of contact with his body...which he definitely felt too.

"Don’t do that again," I snapped.

He nodded like a meek, yielding boy. "Torture me all you want, Laura. I’m yours."