All the blood drains from his face, and his body shrinks into itself. It brings me a completely different sense of satisfaction to affect him like this. I’m sure it’s only a fraction of the discomfort Zahra probably feels in his presence, but I’m glad to deliver it.
I give him one last pat on the shoulder before turning away.
Zahra’s already seated in her chair. Her wide eyes bounce between Lance’s retreating form and me. “Are you really sending him to Shanghai?”
“That’s up to him.” I pull out my chair and sit.
“How so?”
“He can either go to Shanghai or hand in his resignation. It doesn’t matter to me as long as he gets the hell off my property.”
She grasps my hand. “Why would you do that?”
I shrug.
“You really do like me.” She bats her long lashes.
“I already told you this earlier.” I shoot her a soft smile, which only makes her beam like the goddamn sun in return.
She grabs the dessert menu from the center of the table. “Actions speak louder than words.”
“And what do my actions say?” I lean in and grab the end of her hair, pulling her toward me, so our mouths are only a few inches apart.
“That you care more than you’re letting on.”
I close the gap between us and kiss her. “Don’t go wishing for things that can’t happen.”
The corners of her eyes soften, reflecting an emotion I haven’t seen from her yet. “That’s okay. I’ll dream big enough for the two of us.”
The strange warmth surging through my veins is quickly doused by a chill. That’s my biggest worry in one single sentence.
34
Zahra
Lance is moving to China. All because Rowan wanted to make me happy and help me move on. While he might not have said so in as many words, his actions make it extremely obvious.
If Rowan’s trying to keep things casual, he’s doing a terrible job at it. Seriously, is the man trying to make me fall in love with him? Because if he keeps up with these kinds of displays of affection, I won’t survive him. I’m already slipping into dangerous territory.
The moment the driver closes the back door to the car, I’m all over Rowan. With the partition up, I feel bold. Reckless. A little bit power-drunk on the idea of Rowan standing up to Lance.
It’s hot. He’s hot. The whole damn situation is hot.
I lift my dress and slide onto Rowan’s lap. His hands find my hips, grinding my lower half against his zipper. He steals my gasp with his lips.
Kissing him feels like a high I don’t want to come down from. Like the world seems brighter with him in it, and I want to chase this feeling until the end of time. Our tongues collide, stroking, testing, pushing.
“This isn’t safe,” he mumbles between kisses.
I grab his seat belt and buckle him in, which earns me a laugh. “There you go.”
He pulls me tighter against him. “I wasn’t complaining about me.”
“You’re overthinking things.” I trace the line of his zipper, feeling him stiffen under my touch. His grip on my hips tightens.
He undoes the seat belt with a grumble before making quick work of his belt and trousers. I thought Rowan in the bedroom was sexy, but him sitting with his pants halfway down his thighs, rigid cock on display in the back seat of a car is devastating. Because beneath those expensive suits is a man who looks like this. For me.
My knees hit the floor. Rowan’s gaze follows me as I trace the thick vein down his shaft. His breathing grows heavier as I replace my hand with my tongue. I’m tentative at first, tasting the slightest hint of his arousal mixed with some kind of addictive soap.