Page 20 of Forged

Her breath stutters as she shifts in her seat. She doesn’t even try to hide the way her fingers tremble while she gathers her chips. It’s subtle—something no one else at the table would catch.

We play another orbit, but neither of us is focused anymore. At least I’m not. In my mind, she’s under me in the bed of her hotel room. My dick is deep inside her and she’s screaming my name. With thoughts like that, it’s hard to concentrate on the cards.

Finally, she slides her chair back and says under her breath, “I’m cashing out.”

“It’s early.”

She turns to look at me. Her eyes scan down to my dick and drag back up to my eyes. “I can think of much better ways to spend the evening.”

“Cash out,” I say quickly.

The dealer signals the attendant. Two trays appear instantly, one for her tall, perfectly stacked towers and one for mine that didn’t change much since I sat down. I follow her to the cash out counter. She cashes out, and when I’m finished, I nod toward the door.

“Ready?”

She walks toward the door, and I follow like a pathetic fucking dog.

“Yes,” she says over her shoulder. “Drive me to my hotel, Lars.”

The rideto the hotel felt like an eternity. I sat in the plush leather seat of his car with my panties already wet and anticipation coursing through my veins. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t have to, because I could feel the energy coming from him.

After valeting the car, we walk inside toward the elevators. We step inside and the doors slide shut, sealing us inside.

I stand facing him. Across from me, Lars leans back against the wall—one ankle crossed over the other, hands relaxed at his sides. The look in his eyes tells me he feels the connection between us too, that he wants me.

His eyes track me slowly, as if he’s cataloging the damage he could do before he decides where to start. From my heels to my thighs, the curve of my waist, the way my chest rises—until his gaze settles on my mouth.

Heat floods me as he shifts, palm pressing unapologetically against his hard cock through his pants. Like he knows exactly what’s running through my head—and he wants me to beg for it.

His voice drops. “You’ve been tempting me all night, Bella.”

I swallow. “That’s a bold assumption. I’m not a woman who attempts to influence a man, Lars.”

His mouth curves. “It’s an observation. I saw every shift in your chair, every time you clenched your thighs.”

As the elevator climbs, the air between us becomes thick with electricity.

He steps toward me, tipping my chin up with his thumb. “We’re both in the business of watching for tells.” His eyes scan my face. “We’re both people who look for weaknesses to use when the time is right.”

I should tell him to step back. I should remind him that we barely know each other. Instead, I arch into him.

Something flashes across his face—unmistakably pleased. “You and I are so alike; I don’t think you realize it.”

“You were watching me?” I ask quietly.

His gaze sharpens. “I don’t know why you have the effect that you do over me, but yes, Bella, I was watching you. I couldn’t take my eyes off ‌you…”

The elevator dings, but neither of us moves as the doors part.

That’s when I grab his wrist and pull him with me, heels striking hard against the carpet as I drag over six feet of lethal intent down the hall. Every step feels reckless.

We reach my door. I’m already reaching for my phone, the lock lighting green, but he spins me before I can finish.

My back hits the door with a soft thud, and suddenly there’s no space left between us. His hands frame my jaw, tilting my head exactly where he wants it before his mouth claims mine---demanding and all restraint gone.

I gasp, and he takes advantage of it. I dissolve into his touch as his tongue slides against mine. His sharp inhales and gentle moans vibrate through me.

When he pulls back, his breath is uneven, his eyes a stormy sea of blue. His mouth traces down my throat—then he sucks, hard enough to make me hiss and grip his jacket forbalance.