Page 289 of Trouble from Abroad
When I spot Mia across the room again, her gaze isn’t on Lily or the decorations—it’s locked on me. Or moreaccurately, on every manicured hand staking a claim on my shirt sleeve, or any patch of skin they can find.
The look in her eyes isn’t polite. It’s possessive and unguarded; it slams straight through me. My mouth curves before I can stop it, tongue sweeping across my bottom lip. I’m tasting her jealousy, and it’s the best thing I’ve had in weeks.
Aside from her pussy, of course.
I pry the unwanted fingers from my shirt one by one, voice clipped as I excuse myself from the clueless swarm. And as I pass Mia, I don’t give her time to recover or disguise, I lean just close enough to let my breath catch her ear.
“Follow me. Now.” Then I head for my office without looking back.
Her hurried steps follow, uneven, and I take far too much pleasure in the offbeat sound of her chasing me down.
“Anything wrong?” the party planner in her asks. It’s meant to sound neutral, but the sharp edges poke through.
I glance over my shoulder, take in her tight jaw, the flush in her cheeks. I go deliberately gentle, just to needle her. “No, Mia. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then we should go back,” she fires back, arms folding, chin tilted up. “The birthday girl’s father seemed very in demand out there.”
I slow my pace until she almost bumps into me. Then I pivot, step in close, close enough she has to tilt her head back to keep glaring. “Funny. From where I was standing, it looked like I was needed somewhere else entirely.”
Before she can argue, I tug her into the officeand shut the door with a quiet click. The noise of the party dulls to a hum outside. In here, it’s just the two of us. My pulse is already hammering. Restraint forgotten outside with the guests.
I close the distance and seal my mouth over hers. A rough, punishing kiss that swallows the rest of her protest.
“I asked you,” I growl against her lips, my fingers already finding her waistband, “begged youto tell everyone, to stand beside me. Today. Every damn day. But no.Too soon, you said.Not sure, you said.”
Her breath stutters as I unzip her jeans and slip my hand inside her panties, the other yanking the denim down to give me better access. Her hands fly around my neck, and she holds on for dear life.
“But tell me, Trouble,” I murmur against her ear. My touch presses deeper, then spreads slick over her clit. “Remind me, in case I’ve forgotten. Who does this perfect, greedy little cunt belong to?”
Her right hand clamps tight around my jaw, forcing my gaze to hers. There’s a dark menace in her eyes I’ve never seen before. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, answering before her mouth can. “You haven’t.You’d never forget,” she says, steady despite the tremor in her body. “This pussy is yours.”
I peel her other hand from my nape and drag it down, planting it on the hardness straining against my zipper.
“And this?” My teeth bare as her palm curls around me through the denim. “Whose cock is this?”
Her grip tightens, nails biting even through the fabric. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink.
“Mine,” she growls now, twisting her wrist justenough to make me hiss. “You’re mine. They can’t touch you like that. No one can.”
“Well done, Trouble. That’s today's lesson.”
Her mouth fights mine back, biting. She sucks my bottom lip into her teeth, breaking the skin until I taste copper, chanting the word like a curse, like a vow.
“Mine. Mine. Mine.”
Mia’s still murmuring it into my mouth when her hand drops from my face back to my wrist, pressing my fingers harder against her clit, panting.
“Make me come,” she demands. “Right here. Now.” Her other palm moving faster along my length.
I rip my mouth from hers, press our foreheads together, and hear her breath heave. But my fingers stay exactly where they are, inside and steady, not giving her what she’s begging for.
I pin her harder to the door, one hand on her throat, the other between her legs. Fingers moving just enough to keep her trembling, not enough to give her relief.
“Say it,” I rasp against her ear. “Tell me what you really want. Where you wish you were standing when we go back out there.”
Her nails now dig into my arms, breath ragged. “Preston?—”
“No.” I tap her clit, once and hard. “Use your words, Trouble.”
