A Billionaire's Redemption - By Cindy Dees Page 0,63
Funny, but Willa didn’t even know she had a nemesis. But she would, soon enough. That was a promise.
Willa Merris would get hers, all right. That bitch thought she could sic her toy boy on decent, upstanding members of the community and get away with it? Someone needed to take her down a peg or two. Hell, knock her off the damn pegboard.
Uppity bitch.
Pain would be hers. Panic. Suffering. Death.
Definitely a knife. Peel her skin like an orange.
* * *
Gabe was mesmerized as Willa smiled up at him and rose to her feet. He led her over by the windows where there was open space for them to maneuver.
“Rule number one,” he lectured, “never stick your thumb inside your fist. Curl your fingers and keep your thumb outside your fist so you don’t break it.”
She nodded in concentration, getting into the spirit of the thing, and rolled her fists into experimental balls.
“Rule number two,” he said, warming to his subject, “keep your fist aligned with your arm bones. If you cock your wrist and really put force into your punch, you’ll break your wrist.”
He showed her how to punch her left palm with her right fist to get the feel of how the energy traveled down her arm. After a minute, she nodded and held up two credible fists in front of her.
“And now to put your weight behind it.” He showed her how to punch off her back foot, leveraging her entire body weight into the thing. She didn’t get it right away, though, and he moved behind her, put his arms around her and guided her body through a slow-motion punch.
She felt so good in his arms, he could barely focus on the task at hand, though. And she smelled good, too. That intoxicating gardenia scent of hers swirled around her. It made him think of southern belles and hot, lazy summer nights. And sex. Smoking-hot, mind-blowing, toe-curling sex with a lady turned wildcat.
She relaxed back against him, her body going limpid in his arms. Memory of that body by turns taut and boneless against his surged through him. His head lowered and his mouth found the shell of her ear. She inhaled on a sexy little gasp as his lips brushed across it. Her hips rocked back, pressing against his exquisitely uncomfortable groin. He groaned under his breath as lust pounded through him.
She turned in his arms, and suddenly the prim-and-proper lady gave way to the siren. She kissed him so deeply his head spun, promising delights that would beggar the mind. And he had just enough whiskey in his system to ignore the little voice in his head warning that the two of them still had things to work out before they fell into the sack again.
He didn’t have to drag her up against him. She was already there, pressing herself into him, her arms twining around his neck as if she couldn’t get enough of him. His hands slipped under her linen suit, shoving the pesky thing off her shoulders. The white silk of her entirely too prudish blouse at least had the good grace to cling enticingly to her curves. He cupped her breast through the sleek fabric and she moaned softly, arching into him even harder.
He didn’t deserve her. He ought to let her go. She was young and had her whole life ahead of her. And he was a half-drunk old man who had no business taking advantage of her. Not to mention she’d had an upsetting encounter with James Ward just a few hours ago. She needed time to recover, and any half-considerate bastard would keep his hands off her tonight. But damned if he could stop himself.
He did promise himself to go slow with her. To be gentle and let her call the shots. It was a flimsy compromise between his conscience and his lust, but it was the best his impaired judgment could manage under the circumstances.
He untied the annoying bow at her neck and worked his way down the row of buttons that guarded her virtue like tiny, plastic sentinels. The silk fell away beneath his fingers, and he inhaled sharply at the fragile lace bra that came into sight. The naughty beneath the nice of it made his knees go a little weak. Or maybe it was just all the blood pooling in his groin that made him light-headed.
Willa returned the favor and unbuttoned his shirt with gratifying haste. He’d already shed his jacket and tie when