Home > Driven (Driven #1)(6)

Driven (Driven #1)(6)
Author: K. Bromberg

Dragging his eyes from me and my abnormal behavior, Teddy focuses back onto Mr. Arrogant. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely,” he muses, releasing his too-long of a hold on my hand. I have to refrain from the derisive snort that I want to make in hearing his response. How can he not be enjoying himself? Arrogant bastard. Maybe I should get on the stage and take a schoolyard poll of women here tonight to see whom he has not debauched already.

“Were you able to get some food? Rylee was able to get one of the hottest chefs in Hollywood to donate his services,” Teddy explains, always trying to be the consummate host.

Donavan looks at me, humor crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I had a little taste of something while I was wandering around backstage.” I suck in my breath catching his innuendo as he moves his eyes back to Teddy. “It was rather unexpected but quite exquisite,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”

I hear someone call Teddy’s name, and he eyes me again with curiosity before apologizing. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere for a moment.” He turns toward Donavan, “It’s great seeing you again. Thank you for coming.”

We both nod in assent as Teddy leaves. Scowling, I turn on my heel to walk away from Donavan for I want to erase him and his memory from my evening.

His hand hastily closes over my bare arm, tugging me so that my backside lands against the steeled length of his body. My breath hitches in response at my body’s reaction to the feel of him. I glance around, glad that everyone seems to be so absorbed in their own conversations that we’ve not drawn their attention.

I can feel Donavan’s chin brush against my shoulder as his mouth nears my ear. “Why are you so pissed, Ms. Thomas?” There is a biting chill to his voice that warns me he’s not a man to be messed with. “Is it because you can’t let go of your high-brow ways and admit that despite what your head says, your body wants more of this rebel from the wrong side of the tracks?” He chuckles, a low, patronizing growl in my ear. “Or are you so practiced at being frigid that you always deprive yourself of what you want. What you need? What you feel?”

I bristle, trying unsuccessfully to pull my arm out of his firm grip. Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I still as another couple walk past us—eyeing us closely. Trying to figure out the situation between us. Donavan releases my arm, and rubs his hand over it instead, giving the impression of a lover’s touch. And despite my fury, or maybe because of it, his touch triggers a myriad of sensation everywhere his fingers trace over my skin. Goose bumps ripple in their wake.

I can feel his breath rake over my cheek again. “It’s very arousing, Rylee, knowing that you’re so responsive to just my touch alone. Very intoxicating,” he whispers as he trails a finger across my bare shoulder. “You know you want to explore why your body reacts the way it did to me. You think I didn’t see you undressing me with your eyes, enjoy you fucking me with your mouth?” I gasp as he puts his hand on my stomach and pulls me tightly back against him so that I can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into my lower back.

Despite my anger, it’s a heady feeling to know that I can make this man react in such a way. But then again, he probably reacts this way to the numerous women who without a doubt throw themselves at his feet on a regular basis.

“You’re lucky I don’t drag you back in that storage closet I found you in and take what you offered. Make you cry out my name.” He nips softly at my ear, and I have to stifle the uncontrollable moan of desire that threatens to escape. “To fuck you and get you out of my system. Then move on,” he finishes.

I’ve never been spoken to this way—would never have thought I’d allow someone to—but his words, the vigor with which he speaks them, unexpectedly turn me on.

I’m mad at my body for its unbidden reaction to this pompous man. He obviously knows the hold he can have over a woman’s body, and unfortunately, it is mine at the moment. I’m astute enough to acknowledge that he gets my blood humming, but his arrogance is irritating as hell. And I know that I participated just as thoroughly as he did, but right now, it’s the principal that urges me to dispute.

I turn slowly to face him and narrow my eyes. My voice is cold as ice. “Presumptuous, aren’t you, Ace? No doubt your typical MO is to fuck ’em and chuck ’em?” His eyes widen in response to my unexpected vulgarity. Or maybe he’s just surprised that I have him figured out so quickly. I hold his stare, my body vibrating with anger. “How many woman have you tried to seduce tonight?” I raise my eyebrows in disgust as guilt flickers fleetingly across his face. “What? Didn’t you know that I happened upon you and your first conquest of the evening in the little alcove backstage?” Donavan’s eyes widen at my words. I continue, enjoying the surprised look on his face. “Did she play you at your own game, Ace, and leave you wanting for more? Aching to prove what a man you are since you couldn’t fulfill her? That you had to pick a frantic woman locked in a closet to take advantage of? I mean, really, how many women have you used your bullshit lines on tonight? How many have you tried to leave your mark on?”

“Jealous, sweetheart?” He raises his eyebrows as his grin flashes arrogantly. “We can always finish what we started, and you can mark me any way you’d like.”

I gently shove my hand against his chest, pushing him back. I’d love to wipe that smirk off if his face. Leave my mark that way. “Sorry, I don’t waste my time on misogynist jerks like you. Go find someone—”

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