Precious Gems - Sierra Hill Page 0,18

my mouth forcefully, demanding that I suck.

He narrows his eyes, as if this brings him as much pleasure as it does me. His thumb plunders and explores my mouth, my cheeks hollowing out in suction, electrifying me with bolting currents of lust between my legs.

I’m dizzy with this heady feeling as it courses through me, yet Faron just stares at my lips, his tone flat and unaffected, continuing with his conversation as if nothing is happening.

But his arousal in his pants tell another story entirely.

I grin, circling his thumb with the tip of my tongue, extracting a husky groan from his throat.

“Fine, I’ll be there in ten.”

And then without warning, his thumb leaves my mouth empty and he turns and walks toward the door. I’m lost in a sea of confusion and lust-filled haze, as conscious thought returns, slowly bubbling back up to the surface.

“Faron?” I ask, my voice sounding brittle and thin.

He breathes harshly but doesn’t turn around.

Almost resigned to some decision he didn’t make, he says, “I’ll send someone up with dinner and an outfit. You’re to be ready by nine p.m. sharp. I’ll send a driver for you then.”

Reeling, I reach a hand behind me, grabbing the wall to keep me steady. It’s the only thing that makes sense or has definition at the moment. Everything else just seems foreign, like a French movie without subtitles or dubbing. I’m lost in the beauty of it but understand none of it.

A sharp snap of his head over his shoulder and his gaze locks on me, and a visceral heat forming in the space between us.

“If Mudd won’t hold up his end of the bargain, you, Gemma, will be his substitution. And I will get what’s owed to me one way or another.”

Chapter 10

I wait a little over an hour before there’s a knock on the door and the arrival of an exotic-looking woman with long silky black hair and a heavy accent.

“Monsieur Blake requested that I attend to your needs and help you get ready. May I enter?”

I gesture her in with a half-smile. She has with her several garment bags and boxes in her arms, another bag slung over her shoulder. Far too much for one petite woman to carry and I immediately offer to help her out.

“Non, non. I’m perfectly fine. Why don’t we set up over here?” She points with a chin nod to the desk on the far side of the room. “That will do.”

Following blindly behind her, I notice how lithe she is, how elegant. I wonder who she is to Faron. Or Mr. Blake as she referred to him. Is she simply an employee? A family member? Or maybe a lover or girlfriend?

I shake my head free from the ridiculous jealousy slapping me in the face over a man I’ve only kissed once and who clearly regrets his actions. Or at least, I think he does. Honestly, I can’t figure out which way the wind blows with him. One moment he’s pissed at me for being associated with my dad, and the next thing I know, he’s making grand gestures like this, bringing me fancy clothes and a personal attendant.

As I sit down at her request, she runs her hands over my hair, pulling it back into a pony and out of my face.

“I am Serene, by the way,” she says with the eloquent French roll of her R. “First, I will apply your make-up and then we shall do your hair. And finally, we will choose the perfect dress for you to wear tonight for Monsieur Blake.”

I blink several times, squinting in confusion as she laughs at my reflection in the mirror.

“Non, non, mademoiselle. We do not want premature lines on this beautiful face of yours.” She massages the wrinkles in my forehead with her fingertips, shaking her head as she does.

Her touch and voice are almost hypnotic, as I close my eyes and allow her to work out the stress I’ve been carrying in my temples and brows.

“Do you know where I’m going tonight?”

I glance at her reflection standing behind me, a tight smile curving at her lips, dark beautiful eyes that catch mine. They express cautious concern.

“Je ne sais pas.”

I don’t know a lot of French, but I do know that one. She doesn’t know where I’m going. Great.

Dropping my chin to my chest, I wring my hands in my lap in frustration until I feel the weight of her hands on my shoulders, drawing my gaze back up