Diablo Blanco Club: Unfair Advantage by Qwillia Rain Page B

lips and too many tentacles to watch out for. With you…” Mattie’s voice trailed off and she shrugged.
     
    “Stand up.”
    It was the tone she associated with his master personality. On Saturday, she’d gotten a brief glimpse of it when he’d outlined all the erotic things he’d planned to introduce her to. The wet pulse between her thighs reminded her of the sensual attention he’d promised to…
    “Lawrence.” His reminder had her getting to her feet and moving to stand in front of him. Giving in to the impulse to avert her gaze from his, she dipped her chin so her eyes focused on the third button of his shirt.
    “Tell me what he did.”
    Remaining in place as he stepped away from her, Mattie fought the urge to follow his progress as he moved behind her. Swallowing, she recounted Victor’s visit. “He came in and asked to speak with me privately.”
    “Did you allow that?” The wash of his breath over her shoulder warmed her. The deft treatment he gave the hook and zipper on her skirt had the garment pooling around her ankles, with her thong soon following.
    “Y-yes,” she stammered.
    “That”—his voice was implacable—“was your first mistake.” Circling around to her front, his finger beneath her chin lifted Mattie’s gaze to his. “Continue.”
    “Wh—” She stifled her gasp as his fingers slipped the buttons through their holes on her cuffs, before he began with the row down the front of her blouse. “When he followed me in, he suggested I was trying to gain his attention so he would ask me out again.”
    “And you disabused him of that notion?”
    Mattie nodded, her breath catching in her throat as his hands eased her silk shirt over her shoulders and off.
    “Lawrence.” The command was in his voice again.
    “Yes, I made it clear I wasn’t interested in him.” Through heavy-lidded eyes, she watched him carefully fold her blouse and set it on his desk.
    “Hand me your skirt and underwear, then remove your bra.”
    Blatantly conscious of her nudity and its contrast to his fully clothed state, Mattie stepped out of the puddle of silk, stooped to gather the fabric, and carefully folded each item before handing them to Bryce. Fingers trembling, she had to try twice before getting the front catch of her bra to release so she could hand it over to him.
    Again, Bryce turned away to settle her clothing on the corner of his desk. When he returned, he held her gaze for long, heated moments. “Where did he touch you?”
    Her hands rose to graze the midpoint on her upper arms. No bruises showed, but the grip Victor had used had proved to be difficult to wrestle free from.
    Bryce’s look was cool, remote, as he stepped closer, his gaze tracing the path of her hands. “Is that the only place?”
    “No.” She could feel the heat in her cheeks as his eyes followed her fingers as she traced them along her jaw, where Victor’s hand had stilled her attempts to turn away from him. From there, she hastily slid her hand over her left breast and hip, before stopping with her hand cupped briefly over her left butt cheek.
    “And those are the only places?” His gaze held hers, searching for any secrets she might try to hide.
     
    At her nod, Bryce tamped down the primal urge to mark his territory. Leaving bruises on her would do nothing but create rumors throughout the building. Not that their marrying wouldn’t send a wave of whispers rippling through the staff, but love bites the size of silver dollars would only increase the rumors. With the way the Makepeaces had tried to steal his position from him, he wanted to keep them in the dark about his marrying Lawrence for as long as possible.
    As she stood before him, the dark curls between her legs glistening with her arousal, Bryce fought the urge to smile. His first challenge had presented itself, and now he needed to analyze how she responded to it.
    Taking her wrist, he led her around the coffee table and settled onto the cushions of the sofa.