Wicked Company

Chapter Thirty-One

The door to the office creaked open, the sound somehow deafening even with the blasting music still pumping through the club. The blood in my veins raced, my heartbeat ringing in my ears as I stepped into the room.

Tucker was seated calmly in the desk chair, ignorant to the things I'd just learned. His deep blue eyes instantly turned to me, heat blazing through them before a smirk crooked onto his lips. My core tightened, body shuddered, and for a moment, I lost my edge and let him draw me in. For a moment, he wasn't the liar I'd learned him to be, but still the man I'd let walk through the rubble where my walls had once stood.

For a moment, I let my heart stay open for him.

"You took your time at the bar. Thought I'd have to come back out and toss you over my shoulder."

At his words, my guard slammed back up and I felt the bricks piece themselves back in place, firmly building my wall back up. I reminded myself of why I'd gone to the office still - of why I hadn't run from the bar when I learned the truth.

I wasn't a runner. I was a fighter. And I happened to enjoy fighting fire with fire, I'd just lost that spark of need to get even with a certain businessman when I'd found happiness in Tucker. But I wouldn't make that mistake again. I was going to light my fire again, and it would be tonight.

I let my hips sway to the rapid beat of my heart, making my way quickly to the desk chair. In an instant, his hands greedily encircled my hips and pulled me into his lap, my legs guiding around his as I straddled him with ease. My skirt rode dangerously high on my thighs, though the danger wasn't in the hasty material, but his calloused fingertips skimming up my tender skin.

"You look too fucking good tonight, Barbie. You're every bit of a walking fucking fantasy."

I moaned low in my throat, coaxing him on when he dipped his head low and let his lips trail lightly over my neck and collarbone. His soft touches left me aching and needy, despite the battle raging through my mind.

I wanted to know why he'd done it all, what he'd told Bancroft, but my heart was screaming even louder to run before I got hurt. To hurt him before he could hurt me. And that voice was loud. So loud.

Wanting to take back control, I growled, grabbing his hands from my legs and slamming them onto the armrests.

"Leave them there."

Tucker's eyes blazed up at me with my demand, but he did as I said and stayed still as stone. I slid up, stood before him, and reached around my back. Agonizingly slow, I unzipped my skirt and let it fall down my legs in sensuous plummet. Skimming my hands up my bare thighs, my fingertips paused at my lace-covered pussy, teasing myself for him to see.

He shifted minutely in his chair, though his eyes stayed glued to my fingers as they trailed slowly up my stomach to the top that clung tight to my skin. Circling my hardened nipples, I let my hands fist in the skimpy material and threw it over my head and onto the floor, standing before Tucker with only my heels and thong left on.

His jaw clenched in strenuous desire when I cupped one hand around my breast, the other falling again to my pussy, dipping under the lace covering and into my soaked folds.

"Dani..." he whispered harshly, shifting again in his seat before wincing.

I pressed a finger against my clit and let my head drop back on my shoulders, gasping and biting my lip as I did so. I pinched my nipple between my fingers, the bite of pain shooting through me and making my pussy clench is desperation. But I couldn't give in yet. I needed something from him first. I needed to know I had him.

Raising my head back up, I opened my eyes and let them meet his. Tucker's hands dug into the edges of the armrests, thighs bulging under his tense muscles. The veins in his neck and forehead popped, his self control hanging on by a thread the longer he watched me tease myself.