Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2) by Kendall Ryan
He’s the powerful CEO. I’m the know-it-all intern.
Things went further than they should have, but I don’t have any regrets. Well, maybe just one . . .
I went and did the one thing he told me not to–fall in love with him.
Now I have seven days to prove my trust and devotion. Turns out money is a powerful drug, but love is even more addictive.
Excerpt Seven Nights of Sin by Kendall Ryan
“Stop.” Presley’s voice trembles, and her hand presses firmly against my chest.
Taken aback, I drop my hands immediately.
We freeze together in the dark, panting. I’m burning up; I’ve undressed her already, only her lacy black bra remains, and I ache to finish the job. I could feel that she wanted me when I touched her at the bar. So, why is she calling a time-out?
I’m the one who should be pissed off—not her. One touch, and she has me losing all control.
I flip on the light so I can meet her eyes while she explains herself. “Are you going to have a hard time following instructions on this trip?” I ask, my voice still low and husky with the desire she so abruptly blocked.
Presley is flushed too, but she stares back defiantly. “I don’t want you like this. This version of you . . .”
“I’m no different than I’ve been all along. This is the real me.”
“Bullshit. I know you well enough by now.” Her expression is serious, and I have no idea what I’ve done to anger her.
“What do you know about me, Presley?” I ask, cocking my head as I watch her.
She swallows, gathering her courage. “You’re not this man. This hard, unfeeling, dominating . . .”
I place one hand against her cheek, caressing her skin, and Presley leans into my touch.
The truth is, I don’t know who I am anymore. Before Presley, my life was a series of well-orchestrated details. Commute. Work. Home. More work. The occasional fuck session to blow off some steam. She’s turned everything upside down—all in a matter of weeks. Who could blame me for trying to get back some of the control?
Presley swallows, still watching me with wide eyes, waiting to see which version of me she’ll get next. “You aren’t this man, Dominic. I’ve seen it . . . when you let me in,” she whispers, wrapping my hand in her much smaller one.
“What do you want from me?” My voice is more anguished than I intended, and I inhale deeply, trying to calm my raging heart.
“You. Just you.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m trying.”
She nods, her eyes finding mine. “I am too.”
“What do you need?”
She wets her lips with her tongue, watching me. “Kiss me.”