the agile finger outlines the shape of my breast before flicking over a hardened nipple.
The craving to be touched is so great that my body instinctively moves into it, reaching like a flower to the sun. I flip onto my back, allowing for more area to explore…wanting the caress to continue wherever it’s willing to go.
Like a math equation that’s found its answer in the sum of its parts, my body yearns to be filled and completed by this roaming hand. To make me whole. To complete the puzzle with the missing piece.
The greedy desire manifests itself in a drenched wetness between my legs, the throbbing ache that begs to be satisfied in a way it’s never known.
Touch me, touch me, touch me.
Is that my voice? My needy voice spoken through dry lips and a parched mouth? A husky desire vocalized into the darkness?
“Yes,” I plea, as the touch finds its way over the swell of my belly, floating further until it hovers between my legs.
The heat from the hand penetrates the material of my panties, as I burn with excitement. It’s so hot in here, like a furnace burning me up. The touch stops, and it’s torture to be refused like this.
“Please.”
I struggle to move, as something pins me in place, but I punch my hips forward, desperate to reach that elusive connection. But it vanishes and vaporizes in an instant and in a panic, my eyes fly open…
As if stepping out of a fog into bright light, I squint, blinking several times as I gain hold of reality. Was I dreaming? Did I fall asleep and have the most erotic dream of my life?
The room is dark and drafty, the covers thrown off my legs where tingles still linger between my thighs. I dare a glance down the bed and notice my legs are spread apart, my panties still damp, and my shirt rucked up to expose my belly.
But that’s not the most startling aspect of this scene.
What’s far more frightening, and arousing, is to find Faron standing at the edge of the bed, watching me through lowered lashes.
I scramble up the bed, moving swiftly to a sitting position, fumbling with the sheet to cover myself to avoid any further embarrassment.
“Did you have a good night sleep?” His voice is flat and stretched tight, but there’s inflection in his tone that resembles amusement.
“Um, yes. I think. Were you…how long have you been standing there?”
He looks down at his chest, plucking at a piece of lint from his gray sweater, the contour of his biceps shaped solidly against the material. I’m somehow delighted and enthralled by the flex of his masculinity.
“Long enough to enjoy it.”
A crease forms in my brows.
“What does that mean?”
He stifles a laugh. “It means, I like the way you beg.”
Oh. My. God.
The humiliation swallows me whole, and I sink back down and duck my head under the sheet to hide from his scrutiny. But no sooner is my embarrassment hidden when the cover is ripped from my hands and I’m exposed once again.
“I spoke with your father.”
I check the clock on the nightstand to see what time it is and how long I’ve been out. It’s after four p.m. here, which means I’ve slept over fifteen hours and it’s mid-morning back in Jersey.
Faron sits at the edge of the bed near my hip.
“I’ve been in this business since before my father’s death. Over twelve years now and I’ve met and worked with some pretty despicable associates in my time. Slimy, shady criminals. Men who would do just about anything for money,” he says, running a hand over his chin stubble. He’s close enough for me to reach out and touch him, but he’s untouchable.
He continues. “But never in my career have I encountered someone like your father.”
His gaze lands on me – sympathetic, but mostly pity. I glance away, ashamed by my upbringing. Cursing the blood that runs through my veins and the family I was born into.
I cringe. “Yeah, he’s not a nice man.”
“I should have listened to the rumors about his reputation. But I was greedy, and I wanted that diamond, so I gave into his demands and thought we negotiated a pretty damn good deal.”
He looks off thoughtfully into the distance. “Not only has he reneged on his end by sending you with a counterfeit diamond, but he’s changed the terms and is now demanding a higher asking price.”
I stammer with my words, incredulous, yet not surprised by my father’s deceit.
“But you