Sam is nothing if not honest. When you’re also a dominant, and an asshole, it helps. Laurel, however, is an innocent, in more ways than one. But, in this unedited snippet, her new man is about to find out that being a sweetheart doesn’t mean she’s a pushover.
“What made you promote me? Insurance?”
He laughed softly and shook his head. “I think I may have misjudged you, little girl.”
“I thought you were a mouse. But it’s starting to look like you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It’s gonna be fun to play with you, break down that tough girl act and get at the sweet southern belle underneath.”
Laurel tried to hold his sharp blue gaze, but she couldn’t. She looked up gratefully when the drinks arrived, but had to drop her hands in her lap to disguise their trembling. She sucked in a few surreptitious breaths to calm herself, then took a big swig of her drink.
“Slow down. ‘Cuz tonight? I don’t care if you’re drunk. I’m going to fuck you. Fair warning.”
Bread arrived with a thick spread.
“Pink caviar,” he said, tearing off a hunk of the bread and spreading a healthy dollop on before holding it out to her.
She reached for it, but he pulled it back. He shook his head at her.
Laurel opened, she bit down when he put the bread in her mouth. Was he planning to feed her? It would explain why he sat next to her, not across from her at the table. He was watching her mouth like her chewing was a live action film.
She nodded. “Very.”
Something glittered in his eyes at her response, and she suspected it was the please that had done it. Was this arousing him?
“You are one sexy little virgin.”
Apparently. Their salads arrived then, and she took a deep breath as she picked up her fork.
“Mind telling me how that happened?”
“Yes, I mind telling you,” she clarified, focusing on her salad.
There was a pregnant pause. “You’re seriously not gonna tell me how someone who looks like you has remained a virgin ‘til the ripe old age of 24.”
“Because that’s my business.”
“Well, since I’m gonna deflower you later, some would say it’s my business.”
“That’s a different thing.”
“Well, why me?”
Because you make me tingle in places I never paid attention to before unless I was washing them. Because every time you look at me I feel horny and dirty and a little desperate. Because I don’t think I can say no to you, and I don’t want to.
She wanted to say something clever, to deflect from the need she felt for him. A man like this wouldn’t respect her honest desire. He’d use it against her, try to enslave her, and she’d probably love every minute of it. Not because he’d do it instinctively, thus neutralizing any anger she might have at his inevitable mistreatment, but because he was simply that kind of man.
She shifted. Her panties were getting damp just thinking about what he might do to her. She never should have watched all that rough sex porn.