Beneath These Scars (Page 42)

Yve tossed her head back and laughed. “I think you’ve got plenty of ego to spare. Now, grab that side of it and lift. Remember—use your knees, not your back. I don’t want to hear how badly a billionaire whines when he gets hurt.”

With every word out of her sassy little mouth, I vowed that I’d make her beg longer to come. Keep her on the edge until she was screaming for it, willing to agree to anything. It was only fair.

I grabbed the one side and began to lift to test the weight. It was heavy. I stopped immediately. “There’s no way you’re helping me move this. I’ll get someone in here in the morning to do it.”

“Thanks for the concern, but you don’t need to go all He-man on it. I’ve got a dolly. I just need help with that part.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

WATCHING LUCAS TITAN HELP ME move furniture at midnight was up there with seeing the Northern Lights in Louisiana or finding a winning million-dollar lottery ticket on the sidewalk—impossible to believe. But it was happening.

We set the armoire into place and he tugged the dolly out from beneath it.

“There.”

I studied it and nodded. “Perfect.”

“Now, strip.”

I whirled around to face him. “Excuse me?”

“You knew what would happen when you sent that text message. You knew what I’d think showing up here. Don’t tell me this was all a game, Yve.”

Heat slid through me as he watched me with those predator’s eyes. Green and sharp and missing nothing.

“It was a little bit of a game,” I admitted. “But not the way you think.” Why was my mouth dry and the words almost sticking inside?

Titan took a step toward me. “Then tell me. And do it while you take your clothes off.”

“You’re so damn bossy,” I sputtered.

Another step closer. He lifted his hand and pushed a curl that had escaped from my messy bun out of my face. “Because I’m the boss. Now strip. I want to see you naked. I’m not a patient man.”

My hands couldn’t decide whether to follow my brain—which was telling them to shoot him the middle finger, or to follow the lust flooding my system—which said to strip and then tear all the clothes off his body. It was a dilemma.

Screw it.

“There’s a perfectly good counter right—”

I didn’t even get the words out before Titan’s hands dropped to the hem of my tank top and tore it over my head.

“No bra? Jesus. You’ve been prancing around here with no bra on and I didn’t even realize it.”

My breasts—sans bra as Titan had pointed out—were high and firm and didn’t need much more support than the shelf built into my tank. And they were also covered by his hands. His big, clever hands. A low moan rose in my throat as he rolled my nipples between his fingers and tugged.

“You have the sexiest damn nipples. So responsive. You love when I play with them, don’t you?”

Loath to admit I liked anything about Titan, I refused to respond. Instead, I let my hips rock toward him.

“Answer me, Yve, or I’ll stop.”

“Shut it, Titan. Don’t ruin this.”

His eyes lit with challenge. “You’re going to beg me. I swear it.”

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

“You will if you want to come,” he promised as he released my breasts and gripped my waist.

I didn’t even have time to open my mouth before I was seated on the counter next to the register. If I hadn’t known how solid the thing was, I might have protested that I’d crack it with my weight.

Titan was unbuttoning my shorts and tugging them off before my brain had caught up with the situation. And I didn’t care. I let my brain turn off, deciding that thinking was definitely overrated in this situation. I was going on age-old instinct here.

“Get on your knees,” I ordered him.

“Excuse me?” Titan asked, spreading my knees and stepping between them. His fingers caught in the thin waistband of my thong and stretched it.

“I said, get on your knees. Was I not clear?” Power surged through me. “I want your face between my legs.”

“Oh, Yve.” Titan wrapped his fist around the waistband of my panties. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.” He tugged and they snapped.

The heat that had already been pooling between my legs turned molten. “Just get on your knees, Titan. Maybe then we’ll see if you can make me beg.”

To my shock, he complied. He tossed my panties to the side, pressed his hands to the counter on either side of my hips, and lowered himself to the floor in front of me.

He was tall, and the counter put me at the perfect height. Titan knocked my flip-flops off and lifted my feet one at a time so they were pressed flat on the glass and I was spread wide—no secrets left. My balance shifted and I rocked back.

“Hold on,” he said, rising up momentarily to wrap my palms around the edge of the counter by my feet. When he had me situated how he wanted me, he lowered his mouth to my center—and didn’t hold back.

Lips, teeth, tongue. He tasted me, feasted on me, and within minutes I was writhing on the checkout counter of my store.

Usually I didn’t come easily. With most men, I had to force myself into the moment and push away any distractions. But with Titan, I shot straight to the edge of no return every time without difficulty.

I started to moan. “I’m—”

“Going to beg,” he finished as he pulled his mouth away and his tongue left my clit.