Scarlett's POV
I began to sway, my movements slow and seductive. I didn't use the pole this time; I used him. I moved in a slow circle around him, the silk of my wrap brushing against his suit jacket like a phantom's touch. I saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard. Every time I passed his line of sight, his eyes followed me with a desperate, starving intensity.
I moved closer, my body almost flush against his chest. I could feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was fast—too fast. I lowered my head, my lips inches from his ear, and whispered, "Where is your mind tonight, sir? You look like you're lost in thought."
Leonard's hand suddenly shot out, his fingers wrapping around my waist with a grip that was almost painful. He pulled me sharply against him, forcing me to straddle his lap. The air left my lungs in a rush.
"Don't," he hissed, his face buried in the crook of my neck, right where the fake floral scent was strongest. "Don't speak."
