Free The Millionaire Makeover (Bachelor Auction) by Naima Simone Page B

attention,” Niall drawled, lowering his head and grazing the tip of her ear with his mouth. “He’s barely taken his eyes off you since we arrived.”
    Khloe had pointed out the tall, blond man as soon as they’d walked through the doors of the ballroom where the gala was being held. Obviously popular with his co-workers—especially the female ones—he’d held court all evening, surrounded by people like a king with his admiring subjects. His good looks, evident charm, and commanding presence…he understood Khloe’s fascination…
    Niall hated him on sight.
    Her gasp whispered across his jaw, reminding him of another time her soft catches of breath had bathed his skin. He clenched his jaw. Those memories were off-limits, buried. Damn buried. They needed to be cremated.
    “Really?” Excitement lent her voice a breathlessness that grated on his nerves like a nails on blackboard. “All the more reason why we should be over there while he’s not preoccupied with other people.”
    “Lesson number one about men, Khloe. We’re hunters. Part of the pleasure of the takedown is the hunt, the pursuit. Let him chase you.”
    “That’s such sexist bullshit,” she grumbled, dragging a reluctant smile out of him.
    “Politically correct? No, but it doesn’t change the truth. You think he doesn’t know you’re alive. Yes, he does. Even if a man isn’t interested, he’s very aware of who wants him, who’s attracted to him. It’s an ego fuck. The difference is now he’s the one watching you.” Shifting back, he grabbed her hand and gently but firmly led her off the dance floor. “Make him come to you.”
    “I guess I should trust your advice. Especially as a man who probably has his ego…fucked often.”
    A ham-sized fist of lust slammed into his stomach. The word fuck on her lips was a blasphemy, a sin—an invitation. A sultry, dark summons to commit all kinds of dirty acts with her mouth, her breasts, her ass, the sweet, hot flesh of her sex.
    He whipped around, grabbed her hips in a grip roughened by the need pounding in his blood like the constant crash of thunder across a night’s sky.
    “Again you’re insinuating. Assuming. You have something you’ll be wanting to ask me, Khloe?” he murmured, grasping her chin, and whisking his thumb underneath the plump curve of her bottom lip. “Something you want to know?” She stiffened, but before she could jerk away, he tightened his hold. “Don’t pull away from me. You’re supposed to like my touch. Hunger for it,” he murmured.
    She once had. Everything in her had craved it—him. From her expressive green eyes, to her trembling lips prettily begging him to “don’t stop”, to her gorgeous body, so soft, open, and vulnerable for him. Though he knew it was the last thing he needed—the last thing he should even think about—he wanted to see that desire again. Even if only for a second. Eyes narrowing, he grazed the pad of his thumb over her lip before settling on the flesh. And pressing. Firmly. Deliberately. Until her breath fluttered across the tip of his finger. Her gaze shot to his.
    And there it was. Hesitant. Skittish. But, there .
    “While I hate to interrupt… Well, actually, no I don’t.”
    Slowly, Niall tore his attention away from Khloe and refocused it on the smirking blonde behind her. But not before he caught the flash of wariness and alarm in Khloe’s eyes.
    Good . She should be guarded and distrustful of him. Because at the moment, with reality bleeding into pretense and muddying the already blurred lines of this damn charade, the only thing keeping him civil and off her was the six-foot, tuxedoed Bennett Charles. He was a breathing reminder that Khloe didn’t want Niall—she was using him.
    The thought cooled the heat in his veins like a cool wind off Dun Laoghaire Harbour.
    Khloe turned around. “Morgan.” She hugged her friend. “I’ve been looking for you. When did you get here?”
    “Just now. And as soon as I