The Boss's Nine-Month Negotiation. Maya Blake
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Her actions felt surreal, an out-of-body experience that sent shockwaves through her other self, the one observing what she was doing from a safe distance.
The live, breathing one initiating hot-headed moves swallowed hard at the first sight of Emiliano’s tanned, chiselled chest and gave a helpless groan, her body weakening and surging with desire at the same time.
Emiliano’s breath hissed out when she reached for his belt buckle. ‘Querida—’
‘No! If I don’t get to talk, neither do you,’ she insisted, probably because she was terrified that talking now would force her to think about what she was doing, and the possible reason behind Emiliano’s behaviour. Which was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. Not in this instance. Not when a mere hour ago she’d felt on top of the world.
Her fingers gained renewed power. Tugging the belt free, she jerked it away and heard it whistle through the loops on its way across the floor. Her fingers brushed the powerful erection behind his fly and a powerful shudder rocked him.
‘Dios mio, Sienna...’ His voice was thick, his arousal present and potent.
‘Unless, of course, you’re going to tell me I’m crazy to think you want me?’ She kicked away her shoes and reached for the zipper of her dress. Lowered it. Watched the tops of his sculptured cheekbones flush with raw need.
His lips parted, his breath emerging in shallow pants as he watched her dress loosen and drape, secured only by her heaving breasts.
But, as quickly as the alien bravado had risen, it died, leaving her once again flailing, distraught.
What on earth was she doing?
Dropping her hands, she hiked up the skirt of the gown and took one step back, then another. He followed, tracking her with the calculated steps of a ravenous predator.
They moved like that, locked in their erotic dance, out of the dining room. Somewhere along the way, the top part of her dress dropped, exposing her.
Emiliano stumbled. Then cursed under his breath. At any other time, Sienna would’ve smiled a wicked, teasing smile. Not now. Now each breath was weighted with desire, yes, but also with a fearful heaviness that left little room for hilarity.
‘Am I crazy, Emiliano?’ she pressed, even though part of her desperately urged herself to remain silent.
Long seconds ticked by as he prowled after her. Her back touched the bedroom door, swinging it open. Momentarily, his gaze flicked past her to the king-sized bed they’d shared insanely passionate moments in for six months. The eyes that returned to meet hers were heavy with need and regret. Whether it was for their argument or for something else, she didn’t know. Although, with the ache in her chest she couldn’t quite shift, she suspected the latter.
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