Page 2 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession

“Bonnie? Are you okay with this?” Ethan suddenly asks.

I was right, he was asking permission. And I think he just heard my gasp. Fuck.

I hate that he’s reading me so clearly, and I feel stupid for reacting this way to him, for reacting this way at all. It must be all the testosterone oozing off the raunchy audience. I’m clearly embarrassed and out of my depth here.

Am I okay?No, I’m not. I’m so fucking not. I need this wild strumming, vibrating thing to stop.Right now

He’s still waiting for my response. Why wouldn’t he just yank off the thing and be done with it? Why is the man getting all polite and making it such a big deal?

Because you’re uncomfortable, and he knows it.

I shut out the voice of reason, and with a snarky confidence that I’m so far from feeling, I say, “What’s the matter Ethan? You’re shaking like a leaf. What, the girls at Harvard never showed you their panties?”

His gaze narrows. I think he’s angry. My confirmation is the tightening of his grip around my knee, then in a rough jerk, he spreads my thighs wide apart.

The men go wild.

You’d think they were a bunch of rowdy teenage boys, not some of the richest men in the country.

His eyes meet and hold mine again while his right hand snakes between my thighs, his rough palm grazing against the sensitive skin. His eyes are like hot coals, and I can’t look away.

I feel a draft against my panties and realize that they’re wet.

Geez.

My face pales in shock and mortification, and I catch a glimpse of my reflection in his glasses. I look like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, I want to rip those glasses off.

“Hurry the hell up, Harvard. Taking a garter off is not rocket science!”

He grabs hold of the seam and pulls, his knuckles sliding against my thigh on their way down. As soon as the garter clears my foot, I’m off the chair.

“Gentlemen,” Ethan says, slowly rising and twirling the stupid garter on his index finger. He proceeds to give a speech about completing the mission, ending by thanking the excited audience for their unwavering support.

I can’t watch anymore. I walk, more like stomp off, my face on fire. I’m more upset that I got so riled up. I never get riled up.

I need a drink,I think, settling back at my table, which is currently empty.And where the hell are all my friends?

It’s all Sabrina’s fault,I tell myself for the thousandth time.I never should have come here.

The wedding so far has been nothing short of interesting. The wedding planner suggested that instead of the groom tossing the bride’s garter to the groomsmen, each bridesmaid was to wear her own garter, and the groomsmen would then select who among them would be taking it off the girl fortunate enough to catch the bouquet.

Great.Not that I really cared who did what to whom as long as I got to watch these sinfully hot guys do those activities. It seems unfair that men as wealthy as these would also look so good.

Sabrina being the only married bridesmaid, didn’t think there was any point in joining the others to catch the bouquet, so she’d handed over her garter, urging me to put it on.

I’d agreed and worn it on a whim but made sure to stay well out of the way of the other women. I figured since I wasn’t even part of the bridal party, I shouldn’t steal the show from those who were.

I only came here for the view.

Of course, the bouquet had to come flying at me like a nuclear missile while the other women who actually wanted to catch the thing dove in every other direction.

Seriously, girls, how hard can it be to grab a huge bunch of calla-lilies hurled at you?

Realizing with alarm what was about to happen, I’d turned away at the last second, but the damned thing still landed on my back.

Technically I didn’t catch it, I’d protested, but Nora the bride, declared that the bouquet caught me, which was all the same, if not better than me catching it. And there’s no arguing with a bride on her wedding day, is there?

And so, there I was, sitting with none other than Ethan Hawthorne’s hand between my thighs while a group of rowdy groomsmen shouted suggestive tips.