Bad Bitch Read Online Free Page B

MO. He’d taken my game away from me. I was mortified to feel a blush rising in my cheeks. The impossible made possible by his unexpected sexy swagger.
    “Hot?” he asked.
    Get your shit together, Evan.
I stood and grabbed my bag from the hook underneath the bar. I tilted my chin up at him, meeting his eyes and trying to regain my composure and the upper hand.
    “My place. It doesn’t need any unpacking.”
    Lincoln gestured toward the door in the classic “ladies first” move. Mike shook his head slowly, still smirking to himself.
    “Shut the fuck up, Mike.” My voice came out even harsher than I’d meant it to, but Mike didn’t seem to care.
    Lincoln reached around me and pushed the door open ahead of me. Southern gentleman.
    The night was cool, and the city was alive with sounds and light. Spring in Manhattan was beautiful. The park around the nearby city hall was in bloom, and if you were lucky, the faint scent of flowers would float through the buildings and make its way to you on the street. If you weren’t lucky, the scent of rotten Dumpster food from Chinatown would make it to you instead. I inhaled deeply, glad it was a lucky night.
    Lincoln stepped onto the curb and hailed a cab. I fidgeted with my skirt, smoothing it out and pulling at the hem before forcing myself to stop. I’d gone from predator to prey in five seconds flat, and now I was acting like a virgin. Nerves were something I didn’t suffer from. Not in the office, not in front of clients, not even in court with a hundred spectators. I loved being the star of the show, the center of attention. The more eyes the better. Now, my hands felt like they were being soaked in ice and the tips of my ears were under a blowtorch.
    He dropped his waving arm and took a step away from the curb. He put his hand on the small of my back as we waited for the cab to pull up. It was a soft, steady pressure. The warmth from his palm seeped through my shirt and heated my skin beneath. I tilted my head to look at him, the sharp relief of his angular jaw leading up to his cheekbones and those sinful green eyes. He watched me take him in and pressed his fingertips into my back in response.
    I’d thought firing Ivy League Prick was the high point of my day. I was wrong. I was going weak over this guy’s touch, and it was only on my lower back. How would I feel with him inside me? I shivered from the thought. His smile grew, those perfect teeth making another appearance. My panties were clinging to me, evidence of the heat he was creating inside me.
    The yellow cab he’d signaled pulled up, and Lincoln opened the door for me. He was still silent, but with the same devilish look on his handsome features. I got in, and he smoothly slid in next to me. He placed his hand on my knee and gave me a direct look. Daring me to move his hand.
    Panties
en
fuego
.
    “Eleven North Moore, Tribeca,” I told the cabbie. The car pulled away from the bar, joining the evening traffic and circling the block.
    Lincoln slowly moved his hand farther up my thigh to the edge of my skirt. I wanted to challenge him, to wipe the smirk off his face. But his hand was warm. He smelled delicious, masculine and clean. His boldness was an aphrodisiac in and of itself.
    Men were usually too afraid of me to take the reins. They wanted me because I would dominate them. Just like Ivy League Prick, they had some fantasy in mind of me whipping them or being aggressive.
    What they didn’t understand was that I was in control all day, every day. Being the head bitch in charge all the time makes a gal want the simple pleasure of being fucked ragged by a guy who’s stronger, bigger, and rougher. I was willing to bet Lincoln understood that simple fact. The way he’d already showed his dominance excited me, made me want him more each second I was subject to his touch.
    He rubbed his fingertips against my skin in a light circling motion. Every nerve ending in my body was focused on those slight movements.