Page 105 of His Good Girl

He stood behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him at my back. I could hear the regulated drag of his breathing. I looked out through the glass at the city far below, all bright roofs and moving traffic and people who had no idea that my entire life had narrowed to the space between a closed door and the man behind me.

Then I heard the lock turn. The sound was quiet, but it moved through me like a living thing.

I turned around to see him standing there, watching me, not too close, certainly not far, hands loose at his sides, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. The city moved behind us, light sliding over his suit, his shoulders, the angular line of his jaw. He looked like a man who was used to being in complete control, who had spent the last several days exercising that control, but who had woken up this morning and chosen to ignore it. There was no sign of the man who had kissed me yesterday, no trace of softness, no visible surrender. Only a promise in his eyes that made me shiver.

For a long moment, we said nothing. The air felt thick and tense. Then he spoke, low and firm.

“Unbutton your blouse.”

I swallowed, my throat dry.

“Three buttons,” he specified, his voice dropping lower. “I want to see you.”

My fingers moved before my courage could fail. I fumbled the first button, then steadied my shaking hands. The ivory fabric parted, revealing the lace-lined nude bra I had worn because itwas practical and because I had not dared wear anything else. I undid the second button, then the third. Cool air touched my skin. I left the blouse hanging open, my chest rising and falling faster now.

“Good girl.”

The words shot straight to my core. It took all my self-control to convince my knees not to buckle.

He moved forward then, unhurried, still watching me like he was taking inventory of every detail. When he reached me, he did not stop. He stepped close, lifting one hand to the collar of my blouse, tugging it aside to expose more of my shoulder, the curve of my neck, and the delicate strap of the bra. His thumb brushed the hollow above my collarbone, and I shuddered. His eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Yesterday, you said yes to this.”

“Yes.” My eyes watchedhismouth.

“You can say no today. Right here. Right now.”

I shook my head.

The corners of his mouth tightened with what looked like satisfaction and restraint fighting each other.

“You rolled your eyes at me yesterday, young lady.” His voice scraped roughly over the words.

“I did.”

“Did you think I would let that go?”

I looked up at him, feeling the blush rise in my cheeks.

“No,” I whispered.

“No, what?”

“No, I didn’t think you’d let that go, sir.”

He smiled then, just a small, dangerous curve of his mouth.

“Good,” he replied. “Because I won’t.”

Then he leaned in, locking eyes with mine. My gaze flicked down to his mouth and back up to his darkened eyes and my core fluttered with need.

“You want me to kiss you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whispered so softly that my voice was hardly audible.

“I want to kiss you too, but I’m going to punish you first,” he growled.

Then his hand slid into my hair, and he yanked my head back, making me gasp.