Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“You match me,” I said stupidly.
Callan’s eyes were still glued to my bare leg. “I had this waistcoat in my closet.”
I rolled my eyes and snapped my fingers in his face. “I’m up here.”
He blinked, finally meeting my eyes. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“It wasn’t my intention, no.” I stepped out of the flat, locking the door. “Shall we?” I gestured to the lift. I didn’t really want to take the stairs in my fancy shoes.
His gaze flickered over my body again, and he swallowed before following me. I could still feel him staring as we waited for the lift to arrive.
When I stepped in, the movement flashed my leg through the dress’s slit, and the mirror on the back of the lift revealed Callan’s eyes dropping to my bare skin again. I let out a huff of disbelief. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen legs before.”
He cut me a dark look and tugged on the lapels of his suit. “Every man that looks at you tonight is going to think of sex, princess.”
“Only the straight ones,” I teased.
Callan didn’t laugh.
I nudged him with my shoulder. “You’re going to have to relax there, Mr. Keen. This dress is split right to the thigh, so every time I walk, you’ll get an eyeful. Let’s not pretend you haven’t slept with half of the female population of Scotland. You can deal with a cheeky leg flash.”
The lift doors opened and as we stepped out, Callan rested his hand on my lower back, guiding me out of the building toward his Defender. “You have great fucking legs and, aye, I like looking at them … but it’s more about the fact that your dress opens just high enough to the top of your thigh, drawing my eye between your legs. So every time you walk and flash that leg, I’m imagining burying my head between your thighs and licking your clit until you scream.”
Even though he said it so matter-of-factly, I felt a deep squeeze in my lower belly. Arousal flushed through me at the visual, and I felt my nipples pebble against the dress. I was wearing adhesive breast lifts instead of a bra (a bra would ruin the lines of the gown), and I wasn’t quite sure those puppies would hide hard nipples.
“Stop it.” I glared at Callan as he opened the passenger door for me. “Keep your dirty mouth to yourself for the night. I’m wearing silk, for goodness’ sake.”
Realizing what I meant, Callan squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head with a groan. “Woman, you are killing me here.”
I huffed and then eyed the vehicle. I was tall, but I was also in a fairly restrictive dress and heels. Placing my clutch gently on the seat before me, I braced one hand on the door frame and the other on the seat and tried to hop up into it without crushing my dress. My ankle bent over in the thin-heeled sandals, and I let out a cry as I collapsed inelegantly across the seat, arse dangling off it.
“I’ve got you.” Callan’s aftershave filled my senses as he moved into me. “Lift your hips, I’ll get your dress.”
I did just that and Callan gently pulled my dress down under me. Of course, the split stretched open and his fingers brushed over bare skin as I righted myself. Shivers cascaded down my spine, and I must have sucked in a breath because Callan’s hand paused on my bare thigh.
He had nice hands. Manly hands. And his fingertips were touching my inner thigh.
Arousal flooded my lower belly.
“Callan …” I squeaked out his name in a panic because I was seconds from shoving his hand up my dress. The image of his head buried there quickly followed.
Oh my goodness!
What the hell was this?
Why did he make me so lust fogged and out of control?
No. I was not out of control.
Our eyes met. His were hot with desire, the hunger in them unmistakable. And aye, there was a part of me that triumphed knowing Callan Keen wanted me … but the more sensible part of me knew it would be better if he didn’t.
His fingers flexed on my thigh.
“W-we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”
Callan abruptly removed his hand. “Right.”
The very short drive to the event was the quietest, most intense drive I’d ever experienced. We made our way there in absolute silence as if afraid one more word between us would cause us to explode.
Callan parked his Defender on George Street not far from the event building and then rounded the vehicle to help me out. I looked reluctantly at his outstretched hand but then took it. Sparks shot up my arm at the feel of his calloused palm in mine. Then his arm was around my waist, stabilizing me as I exited the vehicle with a little hop. I grabbed my clutch and then retook Callan’s hand to walk into the building. Fancy signs guided us toward the private room for the party. Two doormen asked for our names and let us in.