Page 1 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession
Chapter 1
Bonnie
The raucous laughter aroundme grates on my already frayed nerves.
I’m sitting in the middle of a boisterous, half-drunk crowd, staring with a mixture of excitement and trepidation at the large, very male hand on my thigh.
Although I’m no stranger to entangled limbs, I’m particularly fascinated by the contrast between this tanned, muscled forearm with its thick, coursing veins and a generous dusting of silky, dark hair against my smooth thighs.
We’re at a wedding reception in Cancun, Mexico. A wedding I had no business attending since I don’t personally know the bride and groom, but my friend Sabrina and her husband Jordan, practically dragged me here all the way from New York.
I’d just concluded a four-week project where I had built a website for a client and was bitching about how stressful it had been when Sabrina invited me to tag along with them and unwind in Cancun.
Only, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I’d be providing prime entertainment at the wedding reception.
“Ethan, you’re not doing it right,” a big, blond groomsman shouts. “Forget the hands man, get your head in there and use your teeth!”
The rest of the men heartily agree.
For an awful moment, I wonder if he’ll do it. Usually, I would be enjoying this kind of public display, maybe even shouting suggestions of my own, only now I find it’s not quite the same whenI’mthe one in the hot seat in front of a man I can’t stand.
A man whose hand on my naked thigh is, quite unexpectedly, sending shivers of awareness up my spine.
Ethan somehow senses my discomfort and takes his hand away, but the rest of the groomsmen are having none of that.
They wildly egg him on, including, to my utmost annoyance, Maxwell, the hot guy who’d been on my heels all day and whom I’d actually been making plans to fuck tonight.
I roll my eyes in annoyance. If the man was bothered in the least about trying to reclaim the territory that Ethan is all but pissing over right now, I wouldn’t be up here with goosebumps and a red face.
Could Maxwell not have insisted on doing it instead of Ethan?
Well, there goes your fun tonight, pal.
I look down at Ethan’s bowed head, at the thick, dark locks of hair falling over his forehead, and I tell myself that the tightening in my belly is irritation and the tingles racing along my spine are due to the awkwardness of the situation.
I’m confused by my reaction, but I’m not about to break character and let him see how affected I am.
Ethan looks up, and a furrow appears between his brows. Being only 5‘2“, I’ve had to tilt my head way up to speak to him all weekend, even with my heels, so having him kneeling at my feet throws me off.
Our gazes meet briefly; from this angle, I can see beneath the reflective, tinted lenses into his eyes for the first time.
My mouth goes dry. They’re light brown with specks of bright green and ringed with a darker brown.
It’s so unfair that an asshole gets to have eyes like that.
His gaze is questioning.
Is he…asking for permission? To take the garter off of me?
I remain silent, watching him watch me.
When I say nothing, his hand returns and trails high against the skin of my outer thigh, searching for the garter, and fire licks at me. Why, oh why, did I have to shove that damn thing so high up?
For fuck’s sake, Bonnie, it’s not a tampon.
His palm presses flat, seeking the lacy fabric, and then his fingers finally curl around the edge of the garter. I can do nothing to stop the ripples of pleasure coursing through me. The elastic catches on the soft flesh of my inner thigh, and he palms my other knee with his other hand.
My breath hitches.