Page 49 of Be With Me
She turned it toward me, trying to activate Face ID.
“It’s not enabled,” I said, my voice tight. “You’ll need my passcode."
"What is it?" she demanded, eyes snapping back to mine.
She shifted, and I could tell the exact moment she felt my erection.
Her eyes widened. Pupils dilated. Throat bobbed.
"What do you think the news outlets will say when they see how the next mayor’s daughter dresses when she’s off duty?" I squeezed my fist into her dress, pulling the fabric taut around her waist. She had the kind of body that turned heads. My muscles strained from the effort it took not to grind against her. “Kind of goes against all those wholesome family values your dad loves to preach about, doesn’t it?"
Whatever hint of arousal might have been there in her expression moments earlier disappeared in a flash. “You’re an asshole." Betrayal ran through her eyes, and it fascinated me.
Because it implied some part of her had trusted me.
Even if just a little.
Jesus Christ.
How the fuck was she still alive and walking around with that kind of naïveté?
My gaze licked over her collarbones, then down to the low neckline of her dress. That fucking glitter. It made her look like some kind of mythical creature—a being not meant for a place like this.
Not meant for a man like me.
At some point, my other hand had settled on her waist.
I didn’t even remember doing it.
Her fingers tightened around my phone.
"What do you want?" Her voice shook.
I glanced back up. She was trying not to cry.
The words I needed to say bounced around my head.I want you to tell me everything you know about who's giving money to your father.
I didn't know if the photo would be enough leverage, but there was a good chance it was.
I should have been pleased. Should have been thrilled that I had her right where I wanted her.
Instead, something twisted in my chest.
All I could think about was how she’d look at me when she heard the words. Whatever fragile illusions she still had about me would shatter.
It was ridiculous.
I’d trapped my prey, had her exactly where I needed her. And yet, something held me back from delivering the final blow.
Maybe it was because there was something else I wanted from her. Something I wanted more.
My teeth ground together.Which is it going to be?
She was watching me, her breath shallow, her fingers gripping my phone.
"Romolo, please," she whispered, clutching the phone to her chest.
I should’ve said it.
