Good to be Bad

His strong fingers wound around her neck, his touch, surprisingly gentle, pushed her back into the seat, following her, demanding she stop talking and hand over the merchandise. The heat of his gaze and touch were like a branding iron on her skin, making it turn to molten chocolate.

“Merchandise?” She managed to nervously squeak out after debating, lengthily, whether or not to lean forward and kiss him.

When she’d first glanced into those blue eyes, reminding her of a deep pool, she immediately thought to thank Shelbie on her choice. Shelbie knew Peyton was a sucker for black haired, blue eyed men.

“You know.” His bass voice seeped into her body like aged scotch.

Embarrassed over the fluttering in her womb and the first throb of need pulsating in her pussy in ages, Peyton squeezed her legs together, praying he didn’t notice, and quickly squawked, “no.”

“No?” The side of his mouth twitched in amusement. The pressure of his fingers, the friction of his thumb sliding up and down her neck, should have been intimidating.

But, Peyton wasn’t easily intimidated. Licking dry lips, she said, “Tell Shelbie thanks, but I’m not ready,”



Diamonds Aren’t Forever




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