Page 49 of The Naughty or Nice Deal

But I can see. Oh god, I can definitely see, and the sight of him trying to manage what appears to be a very substantial problem makes my knees go weak with want. I’m so turned on I feel like I’m vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear.

Before I can do or say anything monumentally stupid, Elaine materializes beside us like Christmas magic personified, immediately shepherding our group toward some kind of historical performance featuring traditional English pantomimes. It’s probably lovely and educational and exactly the sort of cultural experience I should appreciate, but I can barely focus on anything beyond the persistent ache between my legs and the memory of Gabriel’s hard body beneath mine.

Thankfully, after the performance ends—something about Victorian Christmas traditions that I’m sure was fascinating—we’re all driven back to the house for a brief rest before dinner at some family friend’s home. Elaine assures me it’s not a “full party” but suggests I might want to venture into town if I didn’t pack enough formal wear.

I think about the three Black Amex cards nestled in my purse like sleeping dragons. I’m actually proud of my professional wardrobe, since working as an executive assistant to three powerful men means I’ve had to look polished and put-together even on a budget. But I suspect my modest collection of affordable dresses won’t exactly measure up to whatever designer outfits the other guests will be wearing.

I won’t give in to the temptation of using those cards, though. If necessary, I’ll ask Ford if we can overnight some appropriate outfits so I won’t embarrass him by looking underdressed at whatever high-society gathering we’re attending.

Since everyone is scattering for some downtime, I seize the opportunity to try to escape upstairs. Maybe I’ll even take a cold shower, despite the frigid temperatures outside. I’m just stepping through the front door when Liam’s hand closes around my forearm.

“Hey, Maeve, I was wondering if we could⁠—”

“Just give me one second!” I say quickly, then moderate my tone a little as I add, “I, uh, really need to use the bathroom.”

He looks a bit annoyed but nods, releasing his grip on my arm, and I hustle away without another word. When I peek into the makeshift office where the men have set up their temporary command center, Ford is nowhere to be seen.

Please god, don’t let him be upstairs in our bedroom.

I need a moment without him or any of the men around, to pull myself back together.

“Are you looking for Mr. Ford, Miss?” one of the house staff asks helpfully.

“Oh, um… yes, thank you.” Being his supposed fiancée, it makes perfect sense that I’d want to know his whereabouts.

“He stepped out to handle some business matter. Said he’d be back in time for dinner this evening.”

“Perfect, thank you!” I nod gratefully, then make my escape upstairs before anyone else decides they need something from me.

Nobody stops me as I slip into the bedroom I share with Ford, and I immediately head for the en suite bathroom. I splash cool water on my face, then grip the marble countertop and stare at myself sternly in the ornate mirror.

“Get your head on straight,” I whisper fiercely to my reflection. “Be smart. Don’t do anything stupid.”

But even as I say the words, I know it’s a losing battle. My cheeks are flushed a deep pink that has nothing to do with winter air, and I can’t seem to get my pulse to slow down.

Gabriel’s scent still clings to my sweater, filling my nostrils with the subtle hint of saffron and leather. I close my eyes and I’m instantly back on that sleigh, pressed against his hard chest, feeling every shift of his powerful body beneath mine. The memory of his cock pressing against me, of his rough warning whispered in my ear, makes my head spin.

I shouldn’t be thinking about this. About him. About the way his voice dropped to that commanding whisper when he told me to stop moving, or how I could feel the tension gathering in his body as the ride went on. Heat pools low in my abdomen as I remember the unmistakable evidence of his desire, the way his hands gripped my hips like he was fighting the urge to drag me closer.

This is insane. Ford’s family is right downstairs.

The rational part of my brain tells me to just turn the shower on cold, get in, and try to rinse this out of my system. But that rational part is being drowned out by the part that’s been slowly dying from trying to shove down my attraction to my bosses all day. Hell, for a lot longer than that.

Fuck it.

The decision hits me like lightning, and before I can second-guess myself, I slide my hand beneath the waistband of my jeans. The first touch of my fingers against my clit makes me gasp—a sharp intake of breath that echoes off the bathroom tiles. I’m already so wet, so worked up, that even the lightest pressure makes my knees nearly buckle.

I brace my free hand against the marble countertop, my knuckles going white as I struggle to stay upright. The stone is blessedly cool against my heated palm, and I use it to ground myself as I work my clit.

I start with slow, teasing circles, which I’ve learned draws out the pleasure, but my body is wound so impossibly tight that it feels like torture. I’ve been tormenting myself all day with thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having, so I’m definitely not starting from zero here.

“God,” I breathe, the word barely audible in the empty bathroom.

My eyes drift closed as I imagine Gabriel’s skilled fingers replacing mine, picturing the confident smirk he’d wear as he watched me fall apart under his touch. His voice would be low and rough, his French accent thick as he told me exactly what he wanted to do to me.

I whimper softly at the fantasy, my hips rocking forward to seek more friction, more pressure, more everything.

The pleasure builds in slow waves, each one stronger than the last. My fingers curl against the counter, my palm slipping a little on the smooth surface. The bathroom feels stifling now, too small to contain the heat radiating from my skin, and I swear I can smell my own arousal mixing with the expensive bath products.