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She was supposed to be finished last week.”
    “Of course,” Natasha says, and disappears
out the door.
    “And Kate,” Amy says, turning back to me.
“I’d appreciate it if you left your personal life outside the
office from now on.”
    She doesn’t quite slam the door behind her,
but she doesn’t close it quietly, either.
    I let out a shuddering breath. I didn’t even
realize I was holding it, but Amy has that effect on me. She’s the
worst, nastiest boss I’ve ever had. Still, with her on the case, no
one will dare ask me about Gabriel today.
    That gets me thinking of him. The way his
grin twists up at the side when he smiles. The way his body moves
against mine. The look in his beautiful eyes when he’s too
distracted to guard his emotions.
    I can’t wait to see him again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
     
     
    His cock is throbbing, hard and hot in my
mouth, and his mouth is between my thighs, his tongue searching out
the core of me. Every time he breathes a shudder goes through me
and I have to grab helplessly at the mattress, bunching the silk
sheets into a fist and groaning around his length.
    I’m so hungry for him I can’t think; I can’t
do anything but suck him, desperate for him to explode in my mouth.
He takes his mouth off me for a second and I move my knees to get
him better access to me. He fastens his lips on me again and I make
a high sound at the back of my throat; he does this better than any
man I’ve ever known. I suck him into my mouth again.
    “Stop,” he says, and pulls away from me.
    “Wh- what?” I say, trying to breathe.
“What’s wrong?”
    I hear the smile in his voice before I turn
to look at him.
    “Nothing. Believe me, you were doing just
fine. But I’m going to make you come first.”
    I lay back on the bed, trying to still my
heart from hearing those words go through me. Everything he says to
me seems calculated to draw every last spark of desire from me;
every time he takes control and tells me how things are going to be
I just want him to take me.
    One thing’s for sure. I’ve never met a man
like Gabriel Call before. I’ve never met a man who was so
completely, easily arrogant in the bedroom.
    I watch him walk across the room to the bar.
The candles he lit earlier throw flickering shadows across his
body. He moves like a wild animal, every muscle ready to tense in a
heartbeat.
    My eyes drop to his cock. It’s still hard,
standing firm and upright and I feel that welcome wet heat
throbbing between my thighs.
    He pours a glass of champagne and drinks it
easily before refilling it and walking across the room. I can’t
help myself; I reach out and stroke him. He grins again, that
completely cocky, shit-eating grin of his.
    “Here,” he says, and puts the champagne in
my hand. It’s crystal cold and tastes like a million bucks.
    I don’t deserve this , I think, and I
savagely shove the thought away before it can take hold.
    “On your back,” he says, and that
undercurrent of growl, that raw tone in his voice when he wants
something, is back.
    I don’t move fast enough, so he rolls me
onto my back and I almost drop the glass.
    “Careful!” I try to say, but then his mouth
is back on me, and I’m gasping for breath again.
    He spreads me open with the lightest touch
of his hands, and his tongue plunges back into me. I’m writhing at
the touch of his lips, at the tiny, expert circles he’s making with
his fingers. His tongue flickers over my clit and I cry out; I can
feel I’m going to come if he keeps doing that.
    He doesn’t need me to tell him. His tongue
dips and darts again and again and I can feel that tidal wave about
to crash through me.
    One more touch , and I’m praying for
it, I’m desperate for it, even while he teases me, even while he
knows to keep using his fingers but hold back with his tongue One more touch, Jesus, one more tou-
    And his mouth descends on me again, and I
have to grab a pillow and muffle my scream of release with it.
    By the time