Page 45 of Handle Me

“What?” He looked puzzled, and then his mouth formed an o-shape. “Really?”

Before I could stop him, he lifted my skirt to check.

I covered my face with my hands, wishing I could turn invisible.

“That is so fucking hot,” he said in a rough voice that scraped across my already sensitive nerves and sent butterflies dancing in my stomach.

I peeked out at him from between my fingers. “I’m glad you think so, but I’m the one who has to get to a bathroom without dripping all over the floor.”

“We can’t have that,” he agreed. “It would be dangerous. Someone could slip and fall. Thank god we’re in a hospital.”

“Anders!” I smacked him on the shoulder.

But he just grinned and lowered onto one knee. “Let me see what I can do.”

My core clenched as he took the scrap of lace I’d once called knickers and drew it gently up my thigh. There was something insanely sexy about the purpose on his face.

“That’s better, but you’re so wet.” He shook his head. Tipping his face up, he smiled wickedly at me. “No knickers means I’m still in charge, right?”

“I’m not sure if I agreed to that rule,” I said slowly.

But Anders chuckled. He drew the lacy scrap across my swollen sex. “This doesn’t count as having knickers on, by the way.”

Before I could ask him what he meant, he shoved the fabric between my folds, nearly sending me over the edge. I braced myself against the wall. “What?”

“Trust me,” he ordered. Slowly he worked them deeper until they were half wedged inside my sore entrance. It shouldn’t be erotic, and yet, I felt completely wanton as he stood and surveyed me with a smirk. I shifted a little, and my eyes widened.

“Can you keep those right there, boss?” he asked, lifting my chin with his index finger.

“It feels funny.” I moved again, and my eyes rolled a little.

“It looks like it feels good,” he said softly.

“It does, a little,” I admitted.

“Good. You’re going to stay like this. No arguments,” he said when I opened my mouth to protest. “No knickers means rule number 5 is still in play, right?”

I whimpered, unable to resist nodding.

“And every time you feel that lace, every time you take a step or sit down or try to arrange your legs to hide it, I want you to remember why it’s there.” His eyes smoldered into mine. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Good.” He kissed me softly. “Every time you remember what we did, I want you to remember that you just broke your rules.” My eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t done rubbing in his victory. “And I want you to remember that you begged me to break them.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ANDERS

“This is a bad idea,” I muttered, a couple of hours later as we waited in the hall for our turn to see Clara. The flowers I’d bought earlier were beginning to wilt.

Lola chewed on her lower lip, shifting nervously on her feet. I’d never seen her so rattled. Fuck, I hadn’t even known her long enough to think things like that, but somehow, I felt like I did.

“Hey, everything is fine,” I reminded her. It turned out that my brother wasn’t just being a massive prick. He had a damn good reason for how he’d acted overnight. The baby was premature and had needed a life-saving surgery.

“I know what Alexander said, but it feels off to me.” She sighed.

“It was a long night,” I said quietly. We’d taken turns doing coffee runs. Every once in a while, we’d found an excuse that suited Madeline Bishop enough to sneak off and fuck somewhere. It seemed both Lola and I needed a little life-affirming activity during the grim waiting period. But now, I was more than willing to let my anxiety go. Lola wasn’t.