Eye Candy

What odd dinner conversation.

It’s late by the time we leave and I’ve had several fun cocktails, compliments of Lex, so I’m feeling absolutely no pain. I’m also a wee bit unsteady on my feet. And horny. Dear God, I need to get laid. So bad.

I think my harmless little joke about a charity date with Lex is making Bancroft a little territorial. Although I’m not sure why. I live with Bancroft, it’s not as if I’m going to jump brothers and beds. That’s just . . . gross.

So now that I’m in the car with him, alone, I want to get my hands in his pants and I’d like his up my skirt.

I slide over so I’m right beside him and rub my boob on his bicep. “Put the divider up.”

He stretches his arm across the back of the seat and glances at me. His expression is remote, giving nothing away. In fact, he’s completely flat. Huh.

He brushes my hair over my shoulder, fingertips skimming my throat. “Why do you want me to do that?”

“For privacy.” Duh.

His voice deepens from the already low baritone. “And why would we need privacy?”

I bite my lip and cross my legs, letting my skirt ride up. His gaze drops there and then shifts to the open partition. “Because I’d like to be inappropriate with you.”

“Oh? Are you sure it’s me you want to be inappropriate with?” His tone isn’t playful, it’s hard, annoyed.

I lean over him and hit the button, watching as our driver’s gaze moves to the rearview mirror and then back to the road. He disappears behind the black glass. I narrow my eyes at Bane’s tight jaw, then run my fingertip along it. He jerks away.

“Explain that reaction, please.”

“You were flirting with Lex at dinner. In front of everyone.”

“Pardon?”

“At dinner. You said you’d donate fifty thousand to charity to go out with him if you weren’t with me.”

I am sure my expression is incredulous. “Armstrong was being a dick. I was defending Lex.”

Bancroft scoffs.

“What is that sound? What does that mean?”

Bancroft lifts his gaze from my cleavage. “He flirts with you.”

“Lex? He doesn’t flirt with me. He treats me like a sister or something. I wasn’t being serious, and he was just being grateful since Armstrong is always a jerkoff,” I reason.

“I don’t like it.”

Wow. I had no idea Bancroft could be so sensitive. Well, that’s not entirely true. I just didn’t realize it extended to Lex. “You know you’re the only one I want.”

He’s still frowning. And now he’s not looking at me.

“Bancroft?” I take his chin in my hand and make him look at me. “How can you not know that?”

“I just don’t like how much he enjoys the attention. He gets enough from everyone else. He doesn’t need it from you, too.”

“So you’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You sound jealous.”

“You’re mine. Everyone knows you’re mine. Lex knows you’re mine, and he still flirts with you, and you played right into it tonight.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How very un-twenty-first-century of you. What is this really about?”

He sighs and his head drops back on the seat. “You spent a lot of time with Lex tonight in the kitchen making all those drinks and then you were with Amie talking about this party thing, and you’ve been with Amie all week.”

I shift around and straddle his lap. Now it makes sense. And I can actually see a pattern. Whenever we spend a lot of time with his family or with friends he becomes extra needy. As if sharing me with other people somehow makes me less his. And I suppose in a way that’s accurate, because he can’t have me all to himself like he normally does. “Aww, baby, are you feeling neglected?”

His brows knit together, but his hands go to my thighs and slide under the hem of my dress. “Maybe.”

I drop a kiss on his lips. “Am I yours?”

His eyes are dark, heavy. “Yes.”

“So maybe you should take me.”

“Maybe I should.” He unzips my jacket and pushes it over my shoulders. His fingers trail over my collarbone and along my throat. He walks his fingers up my chin and slips one into my mouth.

I suck and bite, easing forward so I can grind up on him.

That dark look on his face becomes downright lecherous. “You think I should fuck you right here? In this car?”

There’s my dirty boy. I nod once.

“You sure you can be quiet? That’s not soundproof glass.” He tips his chin toward the divider.

“I can be quiet.”

I suck in a breath of anticipation when he slips his hand back under my dress, searching for the edge of my underwear. Which he doesn’t find. His lip curls. “Where’d your panties go?”

“They were damp after dinner, so I took them off.”

“Naughty girl.” He drags a knuckle along my slit. “You’re ready for my cock right now, aren’t you?”

I make a strangled sound as he lifts my skirt so he can watch two fingers disappear inside me. He drops the fabric and slaps my ass. “Shh. Remember how you said you could be quiet. You don’t want to embarrass our driver, do you?”

“No.” There’s music playing up front, and it’s unlikely that he will hear, but I don’t want to make it awkward for him. He’s a nice guy.

“That’s right. You don’t want him to know what’s going on back here, do you?”

I give him another headshake and bite my lip when he curls his fingers to prevent any unwanted sounds from escaping.

“You know what you should do right now?” He circles my clit with his thumb.

It’s incredibly difficult not to moan loudly. I manage one stuttered word. “N-no.”

“You should get my dick out so you can ride it like you are my fingers.”

I crush my mouth to his in a bid to quiet the desperate noise I’m about to make. I fumble with his belt buckle, yanking it free of the clasp. Bancroft is zero help since he has his hand between my legs and the rhythmic twist and curl of his fingers is incredibly, blissfully distracting.

Freeing his shirt, I struggle to undo the button. The zipper gets caught in the fabric, sticking while I tug roughly. At his low chuckle I nip at his lip. That gets me another slap on the ass.

I gasp. Bracing a hand on his chest, I push back enough so I can glare at him. It’s not super effective since my eyes roll up a little at the angle change. “Stop that.”

“Stop what? This?” He makes an attempt to withdraw his hand from between my legs, but I grab for his wrist. In all honesty, I’m not remotely strong enough to prevent him from stopping, but he grins up at me and curls his fingers again.

“Oh. You mean this?” He smacks my ass again.

I have to fight another moan.

He kneads one cheek with the hand that isn’t between my legs. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it. I can feel how much you want me to do that again.”

I try not to clench. I really do. But I brace for the hot sting and the warm flood of pleasure that follows and all my muscles contract. Bane knows exactly how to push my buttons. And one of my buttons is a sweet spanking.