Page 39 of The Client
“No.” He tucks his phone away and looks me in the eye. “I just want to make sure you don’t have any misconceptions about fiction and reality.”
“I don’t,” I say as evenly as possible.
Meanwhile, any lingering good feelings I had turn to dust.
He’s right. We were pretending. I need to focus on doing the job that I’m getting paid to do and not let Rhys get under my skin.
I was looking forward to seeing Delia again, but now I’m not so sure it’s a good idea. I don’t want to lie to her, or allow our bond to continue growing under false pretenses. Not that it’s up to me. If Rhys says we’re seeing her again, I’ll have no choice but to go along with him.
“You sure about that?” he prods. “You looked very comfortable with my mother.”
I can play this game, too. “I didn’t want her to question the relationship. A good girlfriend helps her partner’s mother. At least, that’s how it works where I’m from.”
He looks away, nodding to himself. “I suppose it’s fine, then.”
God, I hate the way he’s so appealing to me, even when he acts like a jerk. That jawline, his fine nose, the broad expanse of his shoulders, his cologne. Why am I so attracted to him when he acts so indifferent toward me?
Rhys presses a button to lower the glass partition between the rear seat and the driver.
“We’ll take the lakefront route home,” Rhys says.
“You got it, boss,” the driver responds.
The glass slides back up.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the detour.”
My skin heats and a rush of adrenaline hits me, singing in my veins. He brings out this side of me so easily—the one that craves him.
Maybe it’s because the sex is still so new to me, and because every time we’re together, it’s a brand-new experience. I’ll probably get over it at some point. Get used to the way he feels inside, get used to the shock of the sudden, deep orgasms he gives me, the shivers that run down my spine when he whisperswhorein my ear. I’m probably only so turned on by him because I’ve never been with anyone else. That has to be how it works.
He pops the top two buttons of his shirt, and the second I see the flash of his bare chest, a dull ache starts to thud between my legs. I know what else is waiting for me underneath the linen fabric. Smooth pecs, rock-hard abs, those shoulders that make my knees go weak.
I never knew it could be like this, where just the sight of a shirtless man has me halfway to an orgasm before he’s even laid a finger on me. I’ve seen other men with their shirts off before. But with Rhys, it’s different. Something inside me constantly hungers for him.
“Take off your dress.”
The command pulls me from the fog of lust settling over my brain. I glance at the glass partition between us and the driver. It’s dark outside, but I’m sure the driver can still see us back here. And is the glass soundproof?
“Isaid,take off your dress, Izabela.”
“Can he hear us?” I ask, nodding at the driver.
Rhys grabs my chin, turning my face so I have to look at him.
“That’s not your business. I decide who sees you and hears you.”
There’s no point in arguing. He owns me. The terms of our agreement demand that I shut my mouth and do as he says.
Glancing at the driver one last time, I slip the spaghetti straps of my dress down my shoulders. Then I work the top down over my breasts, down to my waist. I’m not wearing a bra and the air conditioning feels icy on my exposed skin, instantly making my nipples tighten. With a low groan, Rhys pulls me toward him, tugging the dress over my hips and then positioning me on his lap in nothing but my white cotton thong.
My back rests against his chest, and when he pushes my legs apart, over the tops of his thighs, my feet come off the floor. It’s awkward, but then he wraps a strong arm around me and begins to play with my nipples, and I decide I wouldn’t care if I was upside down.
Biting my bottom lip, I brace myself against him and ease into the pleasure as he lightly rolls my nipples between his fingers. The rise and fall of his chest is steady, his delicious warmth radiating into my back. A soft moan escapes me. I can tell that what he’s doing to me is having an effect on him too, judging by his harsh breathing. It only makes me more excited.
His hand slides lower, trailing over my belly, my hips, my underwear. As he cups me between my legs, he runs his hot mouth over the side of my neck.
