TURN THE PAGE FOR A PREVIEW OF THIS THRILLING ROMANCE BY CHLOE FISCHER
DIREN – he’s rich, gorgeous, charming…and a total A$$.
AYLA – she’s stunning, innocent, loyal…and she’s being blackmailed.
No one believed there was a woman out there who would be able to break through Diren’s jaded walls. Until Ayla proved everyone wrong and did the unimaginable.
But then Diren discovers that Ayla is hiding a big secret, and that she’s just like everyone else who tries to use him, then betray him.
Now those walls are stronger than ever, and Diren vows to make Ayla pay.
He’ll never understand, but Ayla had no choice, and her secret is forcing her to choose…between the rock…or the hard place.
Can she get Diren to see that…before he destroys her, and himself too?
* * *
Diren Benning sucked air through his teeth and glanced at his Piaget watch for the third time.
It was six twenty-five.
Is she going to piss me off first thing on a Monday morning? He wondered. Diren did not abide tardiness, and people learned that lesson fast.
I don’t have time for this shit this morning.
A small part of him realized that she still had five minutes to go, but as the next two minutes passed, he grew even angrier, as if she was already late.
A knock on the door drew his head up.
“Come in,” he snapped. As the frosted glass swung inward, he was already speaking.
“You should know I don’t take kindly to waiting - ” he stopped in midsentence as a gorgeous tanned woman stood peering at him from the doorway with apologetic blue eyes.
“You’re not Sloane,” he heard himself say accusingly in surprise.
She shook her long layers, a stray strand falling over her eye.
“No, Mr. Benning. I’m Ayla Dumas, your new assistant,” she told him, stepping forward tentatively.
There was a demureness about her which Diren found intriguing – and uncommon.
Is it demureness or is she hiding something?
It was not an unusual question to enter his mind. Diren’s gut reactions to people were rarely off and had served him well in business. And he always started out with distrust.
You don’t become a billionaire by ignoring your intuition, he thought.
“What are you doing here so early?” he demanded. “Catrina won’t be in the office until eight.”
“I know, sir, but I wanted to get my bearings before she arrived,” Ayla explained quickly. “I – I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I just wanted to let you know I was here if you needed anything.”
He eyed her with stoic, slate irises, his gaze trailing down her red silk blouse toward the fitted charcoal pants that hugged her curves perfectly, then slowly back up to her high cheekbones and slightly tilted eyes.
Great tits, perfect face. I’m sure she and I will have many…interesting times together, he thought. I just hope she’s not as slow as some of the others have been.
She waited, unspeaking despite the long, tense silence which seemed to ensue between them.
“I loathe the color red on women,” he told her flatly. “It’s whorish. Don’t wear it again in the office.”
He relished the look of surprise which crossed over her face and for a fleeting second, he noted her jawline twitch in defiance.
“Of course, Mr. Benning,” she replied sharply, turning to leave.
Before she could move, Sloane barrelled past her in a swirl of Christian Dior perfume and Versace couture.
“You’re late,” Diren snarled at the bleached blonde.
She laughed merrily, turning to address Ayla, who stood uncertainly at the threshold.
“Ah,” Sloane cooed. “Is this your latest trollop? Go along, tart, and fetch me a cappuccino.”
She waved her hand dismissively and turned back to Diren.
Through his peripheral vision, he saw the new girl’s mouth become a fine line.
“I’m sorry,” she replied evenly. “I’ve not yet started in my official capacity, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that for you – legally speaking, you understand. I think the espresso bar is that way though.”
Ayla gestured into the outer office but did not wait for Sloane to reply before turning and walking away, her back straight and her chin raised, leaving Diren’s ex-wife to gape after her in shock.
“Did that little bitch just tell me to get it myself?” she squealed and Diren swallowed a smile.
If it had been any other visitor, Diren would have fired Ayla on the spot, but there was something truly sweet about watching Sloane’s face twist into a mask of fury as she tried to process the word “no”.
Maybe that girl isn’t as innocent as she looks, he thought. He would deal with his new assistant later.
“We have to talk about my alimony,” Sloane announced, flopping onto the settee as if she had already forgotten being slighted. “And I need a coffee. Diren, go get me a coffee!”
He snorted and sat behind his desk, turning to his computer screen.
“Sloane, you are not getting one more penny out of me for alimony,” he told her flatly. “These monthly visits are becoming tiresome. And next time you gun for one of these pointless meetings, stop at Starbucks beforehand like the rest of New York.”
They had been divorced for more than a decade but that didn’t stop his ex from crying persecution at every chance and to anyone who would listen.
As his multi-billion-dollar empire grew, so did Sloane’s greed and she had tried several ways to extort more money from him.
At first, Diren had found her attempts amusing.
After all, she was grasping at straws. Their decree was ironclad, his attorney the best that New York had to offer.
Yet Sloane seemed fixated on finding loopholes she had seen online or probing into some hint of a scandal, looking for ways to cash in on her desire to live the high life again.
Sorry, baby, that ship sailed as soon as I realized who you were – and what you were capable of.
* * *
As the inner door closed after Sloane’s departure, he touched the intercom.
“Come in here, Lila,” he barked.
The door reopened a second later and Ayla stood placidly in the doorway.
“Yes, Mr. Benning?”
He gestured with long, manicured fingers for her to enter.
“Where did you come from?” he demanded.
“First floor. Reception,” she answered. She did not offer any extra information. He cocked his head to the side and peered at her.
“So you are aware that it is your job to have customer service skills,” he snapped after a long moment.
“Of course, Mr. Benning,” she replied serenely, studying his face. Before Diren could continue his lecture, ready to berate her for the way she had spoken to Sloane, the girl continued.
“But I will not be treated like a service dog by anyone, least of all your ex-wife.”
Diren’s spine stiffened.
“You knew who that was?” he growled. “How?”
Ayla laughed shortly.
“Mr. Benning, I have worked for Benning Media for almost five years. I do know the comings and goings of the company, sir.”
His mouth formed into a thin line.
She is defiant, and yet…
There was something about her which both drew and repelled him simultaneously, like an exotic pepper which he knew was too spicy for consumption, yet he wanted to taste just a bit…knowing he would probably regret it later.
“When you are under my direct employ, you are to answer directly to me,” he told her sternly. “If you do not like my orders, you can find yourself a new position – outside of Benning Media. Is that understood?”
She nodded curtly.
“Understood, sir. And please note that if you had asked me to fetch Ms. Benning’s cappuccino, I would have obliged,” she replied evenly.
They stared at each other for a long while, Diren’s mind turning the exchange over as he tried to make sense of the woman standing before him.
She seems smart and willing to take direction…and yet, not. She’s not a pushover.
Diren was trying to reconcile such a personality with the small and intriguing package that it came in.
We’ll see how long she lasts, he decided but even as he thought it, he noticed that she had undone one of the buttons on her crimson blouse while she was outside his office, exposing the tops of her luscious breasts.
Well, maybe she has the capacity to be accommodating, he thought smugly. If this is her way of letting me know she wants the same thing I do, we will get along fine. At least for a while.
“I have a job for you,” he told her, prying his eyes away from the temptation of her breasts. “But you need to go undercover. Can you handle that?”
She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
“Sir?”
“I need you to befriend someone and get her to tell you what she may have learned while working for me as my executive assistant. Some possibly confidential and sensitive information.”
A look of nervous understanding crossed over Ayla’s face.
“Okay,” she replied slowly. “But for what purpose?”
* * *
As she walked tipsily up the pathway toward the Benning office building late that afternoon, she realized she was in big trouble.
But how was she supposed to know that the girl she was to befriend was a bartender?
I really should not have had so much to drink, she thought, gritting her teeth as she fumbled inside the knock-off Prada clutch she carried looking for her mints. But at least it had gotten the bartender to open up about Diren and her employment at Benning, Ayla thought gratefully.
Christ, I hope there’s Gatorade in the fridge here, she thought as she made her way up to Diren’s floor.
It hadn’t been her intention to get drunk, but continuing to order drinks had seemed like the only way to keep the Delia nearby, refilling her glass. And the more she talked to the ex-employee, the more Delia had opened up to her. Isn’t that what Diren had wanted?
The more she drank, the more the conversation seemed to flow and when she finally picked herself up off the barstool, Ayla had been convinced that she had done a thorough job.
As she tried to give herself a much-needed pep talk on her way back to the office, her mind trailed back to the night before, and the unwelcome visitor she had found in her apartment…
* * *
She had opened up the door and allowed herself inside her ground floor unit.
Ayla was proud of the one-bedroom unit. It was barely bigger than the space she had shared with her family in Tallman, but it was all hers.
For the first time in her life, she had a place that was not fraught with tension and abuse, a spot that made her feel secure and warm.
And cool in the summer. Who would have thought I would be living like this one day?
Some days, she wished she didn’t have to leave the sanctuary she had painstakingly built over the past three years.
It had taken some sullen roommates and scrounging finances to get there, but Ayla felt like she was finally making progress in her life.
One day, the black cloud that has followed me around will disappear. It’s just taking some time to see that happen.
“My, my, I see you can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can never take the trailer park out of the girl.”
Ayla screamed as the voice in the dark caused her heart to stop, but instantly she knew who sat in her darkened living room, his black eyes gleaming through the dim lighting.
He had a starring role in every one of her nightmares, after all.
“How the hell did you get in here?” she gasped, her hand flying to her chest in shock. “How did you even know where I live?”
Ryland grinned and Ayla was sure she had never seen a more awful sight in her life.
It was not that Ryland was unattractive. On the contrary, in fact.
He was good looking in that bad boy, drug dealing, biker kind of way with his head shaved to a well-formed skull and bright eyes which shone with malevolence.
He wore an eyebrow ring over his left eye and a lip ring through the bottom part of his mouth.
An assortment of dark, Satanic style tattoos crisscrossed his bare arms and snaked up his chest, encircling his throat as if attempting to possess his body with the evil they depicted.
Good luck, Lucifer. Ryland is heir to the throne in Hell.
His smile itself was not terrifying; it was what the smirk implied which sent shudders through Ayla’s body.
“If you don’t want people to know your private business, sis, I wouldn’t post it all over social media.”
Ayla loathed when he called her “sis” but she did not react to the backhanded endearment because she knew it was meant to incense her.
“I’ve never posted my address on Facebook, or any other social media site!” she cried, racing through her mind to ensure that it was a fact. It certainly did not seem like something she would do, especially when she guarded her privacy so fiercely.
“Ryland, what are you doing here?” she breathed, trying to maintain her composure but even as she stood, she was quaking inside with fear.
“I should be asking you where you’ve been until two o’clock in the morning when you’re supposed to be workin’ tomorrow, but I have a feeling that you probably were already with your new boss, testing the waters, am I right?” he leered at her.
Indignation overcame her fear and Ayla scowled at her step-brother.
“I was out with Angela – not that it’s any of your business. Ryland, what are you doing here? Don’t make me ask you again,” she demanded harshly, hoping her bravado would cover up her fear at finding him in her apartment.
He lost his lazy smirk, his face twisting into annoyance.
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, little girl? I own you, or have you forgotten?” he sneered at her.
Terror seized her.
Ayla lowered her cobalt eyes downward and shook her head.
“No, of course not,” she mumbled. “I just don’t know what you want, Ryland. Like you said, I have a long day tomorrow. I should be going to bed.”
He snorted contemptuously.
“You should have thought about that before you went out whoring tonight. Are you drunk?”
“No! Of course not! Just – please, Ryland, what do you want?” she begged, wishing he would just spit out whatever he had come for and leave forever.
I’m going to have to move now, she thought miserably. All because my step-brother is insane enough to hunt me down.
The thought of it was enough to make her weep. All the pride she had in her place, all the sweat and work that had gone into it. This tiny space had been her sanctuary, the first place that felt safe; and it was all hers. Now it would never feel safe again.
More thoughts to keep me up at night and give me night terrors when I sleep, she thought mournfully.
“I’ve come to collect on that favor you owe me,” he told her, and Ayla’s head whipped up to stare at him.
This again? She thought furiously. It’s getting ridiculously old. I can’t do this for the rest of my life.
Over the years, the ‘paybacks’ had been endless.
She had been his alibi, his pick up from shady situations. She had left work to bail him out of jail and given him money when his latest conquest needed an abortion.
Ayla knew she was becoming a prisoner to his demands, so the last time he had called on her, she’d had enough – and she’d told him.
When she had arrived at the address he’d sent her, the street had been blocked off by police tape, and fire trucks were screaming to the scene.
He had leapt into her car, reeking of fire and chemicals and ordering her to drive away.
A meth house had exploded and somehow Ryland had been mixed up in the party. Ayla did not ask any questions.
Even if Ryland wanted to disclose the nature of what had happened, Ayla knew that ignorance was the best defence should she ever be held for questioning.
“I am not doing this anymore!” she had exploded while they were still in the impromptu getaway car. “This is the last time, I swear!”
Ryland had stared at her coldly, his black eyes chilling her blood.
“You will do what I want, when I want it, if you know what’s good for you,” he hissed. “Because if you don’t – “
“Yeah, yeah,” she spat back. “You’ll rat me out. Well you know what, Ry? Go ahead. Because if you call on me one more time for any stupid reason, I’ll call them myself - like I wanted to do that day. It was a damned accident. I was a sixteen-year-old kid.”
He eyed her and for once, Ayla realized that she might have gotten the upper hand.
She had no idea if she actually had the gall to see through on her promise, but she knew the guilt of what had happened that day weighed heavily on her and would continue to haunt her for the rest of her life.
“You wouldn’t be that stupid,” he murmured but something in his tone told Ayla that he believed her. She hoped so, because she believed herself – mostly.
It had been over a year since Ryland had called on her for any illegal help, but suddenly he stood in her living room, reeking of bad news.
“I promise, sis,” he told her cajolingly. “If you do this, I will be out of your hair forever.”
“You say that every damned time!” she snapped.
“This time is definitely different,” he assured her.
“Why don’t I believe that,” Ayla retorted. “No, Ryland, I’m out.”
Without warning, he flew across the room, grabbing her arms with both hands and squeezing like a vice.
“You haven’t even heard my terms,” he snarled, and Ayla choked back a sob as she tried unsuccessfully to wriggle free.
“I don’t want to hear them,” she whispered but she could barely hear herself. “You’re never going to let me go!”
His face seemed to soften slightly but he didn’t release his grip on her shoulders.
“Just listen to what I have to say and maybe you’ll believe me this time,” he cajoled. “Please, sis?”
Ayla swallowed the bile in her throat and nodded, lowering her blue eyes.
“Okay, Ryland,” she mumbled. “What do you need from me this time?”
“Your new boss may be my ticket, sweetie,” Ryland said soothingly. “I have some old connections who are able to make anonymous transfers from offshore accounts.”
Her head moved up slowly and she tried to comprehend what that had to do with her.
“So?” she finally asked when he did not immediately continue. “What does that have to do with me?”
“You’re going to help me get Diren Benning’s offshore account numbers. That’s all I need to make this work, sis.”
Ayla gaped at him, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
“Are you fucking crazy?” she asked him, wresting herself free. “You want to steal money from Diren Benning?”
Ryland’s eyes narrowed menacingly.
“Of course not!” he snapped as if she was the idiot. “I don’t want to steal anything.”
She exhaled slowly, shaking her head.
“Good. Because that’s pretty stupid, Ryland.”
Even for you, she wanted to add but dared not. She was already pushing her luck by speaking her mind so boldly.
He folded his arms across his chest and nodded.
“I agree,” he replied. “That’s why you’re going to do it.”
She stared at him balefully.
“What the hell do I know about stealing and moving money, Ryland?” she asked, shaking her head in exasperation. She tried not to roll her eyes, fearing they would fall out of her head, she was so annoyed.
God, he’s such an idiot. Does he have any active brain cells connected? Can he even comprehend how difficult, not to mention suicidal, doing something like that to Diren Benning would be?
“Nothing, of course,” he answered, looking like he was growing irritated with her. “Like I said, I have connections for that.”
She waited, her own arms folding over her chest.
“Well what the hell do you want?” she almost yelled. “Spit it out so I can say no and go to sleep. It’s two o’clock in the morning!”
“I want you to find out which accounts he has offshores and find me their numbers.”
She laughed aloud even though doing so to Ryland’s face had never ended well for her.
“You make it sound like it’s a matter of clicking open a banking app,” she growled. “It’s not that easy and I wouldn’t even know where to look if I could find a way to access his computers. You think he’s just going to throw me on his personal computer and let me have at it? Come on Ryland, this is insane. Go home.”
“He might let you onto his computers,” Ryland replied quietly, and Ayla could see he would not take no for an answer.
“And how do you figure that?” she sighed. She was growing tired very fast and wanted the sinister presence out of her haven once and for all.
“I think you know how,” Ryland replied suggestively, licking his lips in that way which always sent chills through her body.
“Are you kidding me, Ryland? You want me to seduce my boss?”
“I want you to get those numbers for me,” he snarled, grabbing her by the throat. “I don’t give a shit how you do it!” Spittle flew into her face as he spoke.
* * *
“You better go get yourself some coffee before Mr. Benning – “ Cat’s voiced snapped her out of the memory from the previous night. Her problems seemed to be stacking, one on top of the other. She felt a headache building behind her eyes. First things first, she told herself. Deal with Benning and his undercover mission first. Then work on Ryland’s last request. She nodded her head to herself, the plan set in her mind, but as she did, the room tipped just a bit to the right.
Okay, so maybe I had a bit too much to drink, she thought defensively. But it was at Benning’s request…kind of.
The interior door opened and the man who had been inside the office with Diren stormed out, his face red with anger.
“He looks piss-y!” Ayla stage-whispered, covering her mouth to stop the giggle from emerging.
“Ayla, you better go - ” Catrina started to say, but Diren appeared before she could finish her thought. He stared hard at her, his eyes piercing clear through to her soul, it felt.
“Ayla, get in here,” he snarled, his jaw locked in fury.
She looked at Catrina, but the woman only averted her eyes, shaking her head.
Gulping, Ayla tripped inside the office, trying to keep her balance on her heels as she entered.
“Close the door,” he spat, and she knew that she was in big trouble.
“It’s not what it looks like!” Ayla told him before he could say another word. He sank into his chair and glared at her.
“Are you drunk?” he snapped.
“Yes, sort of…but – “
“Is this a work day?” he interrupted.
“It is, Mr. Benning, but I – “
“You’re fired.”
The words filled her with shock and she shook her head.
“No!” she retorted, folding her arms over her chest. “You can’t fire me!”
He stared at her in disbelief.
“You’re joking, right? You’re off your face and you expect me to what? Keep you around?”
“I was out doing what you asked me to do!” she yelled back, her face growing red with anger. “You can’t fire me for doing what you told me to do!”
Diren’s mouth formed a fine line of anger.
“I asked you to go get drunk?” he asked, snorting at the suggestion. “Are you insane?”
“You asked me to get close to Delia Craver. That’s what I was doing!”
“And you thought you had to take her out drinking during the day to do it?”
Ayla could see he was not listening to anything she was telling him.
Slowly she began to shake her head. He wouldn’t even let her explain.
“You really are a bastard,” she heard herself say. “It’s not just a rumor. You’re a bona fide prick.”
Diren’s smoky grey eyes narrowed as the words registered.
“You wouldn’t be the first to call me that,” he replied shortly. “But I would have thought you’d be more creative. You may collect your things and leave.”
As if she had already disappeared from his sight, he turned his attention back to his desk.
“No.”
He arched a dark eyebrow, pursing his lips.
“Really? You’re going to make me call security?”
She placed her hands on his desk and leaned forward, spitting her words.
“You can call whomever you want,” she told him furiously. “But if you have me thrown out of here, whatever I learned today goes with me.”
An entirely different expression seemed to come over Diren’s face.
Ayla realized he was weighing the truth in her words.
“And what did you learn today?” he drawled, his lids dropping to leer at her. “That tequila needs a rum chaser?”
She stared back at him for moment, not replying, instead plucking her cell phone from the depth of her purse.
She pressed play and allowed Delia’s voice to fill the room.
“Nope. I was his executive assistant for a year and we screwed from the second day I got the job, right to the very last. That’s why he fired me, I’m sure of it!”
Diren seemed to freeze as she stopped the recording.
“But if you aren’t interested in what else she has to say…” Ayla said, spinning to make a hopefully grand exit. “I will collect my things and leave.”
Her hand on the knob, his voice shot out.
“Wait!”
Ayla paused but she did not turn, waiting for the right words.
“What else did she say?”
“I guess you’ll never know,” she retorted, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Since you like to shoot first and ask questions later.”
Diren stared at her for a long moment and then lowered his eyes in exasperation.
“What are you going to do with that information? Go to the papers? Because I will sue you so fast – “
Ayla scoffed.
“I know - I signed a nondisclosure agreement,” Ayla rolled her eyes as she continued, “But even if I hadn’t, I have no interest in going to the press with this. Or anything else for that matter. I got this recording because you asked me to do it. If you don’t want it, I’m just going to destroy it.”
His head jerked up and he gazed at her, his lips twitching as if he could not imagine she would take such valuable information and throw it away.
“Really?” he asked skeptically. “You would just walk out of here and delete it.”
“I’ll delete it before I walk out of here, if you want,” she replied, her hand hovering over the button.
“Wait!” he cried, realizing what she was about to do. “I want to hear it.”
She fully turned and eyeballed him, waiting.
“Let me hear it,” he ordered, and she shook her head.
“You owe me an apology,” she told him. “And my job back.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously at her.
“A what?” he spat. “Are you crazy?”
A flash of nervousness bolted through Ayla and she realized that in her intoxicated state, she might be pushing her luck with the powerful CEO a little far. Okay, a lot far.
He rose from his chair and stalked toward her and before Ayla could react, he pinned her against the door, his eyes bright with anger as his hand cupped the side of her neck and his thumb raised her chin to the angle he wanted.
She gasped, her heart hammering.
“You want an apology?” he growled, his hand tightening around her face. “Here’s your apology.”
* * *
Diren stared into her eyes as his hand held her in place, noting the look of panic in her face. It stirred him deliciously.
Before he could stop himself, he crushed his lips to hers, tasting the bite of vodka on her lips as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.
She gasped, raising her hands to push him away but the action was without any effort and Diren felt her acceptance of his forceful caress, as she allowed her mouth to part, permitting him entrance. His right hand began to explore as his left palm slipped back to cup her rear, pulling her curvy but toned body toward him.
Any semblance of a fight was forsaken as she entwined her fingers in his hair, pulling his head toward hers.
He half wondered if she would have pretended to protest his actions if she had not been tipsy. It didn’t really matter; her resolve was farcical in any case.
His hand massaged her full, round ass cheeks with hard, almost pinching motions as he dipped her head back and sank his mouth into her neck.
Ayla sighed, and his hand slipped back to twist her dark hair into his closed fist, while lifting her skirt upward to expose her thong.
She cried out slightly as he bit into the soft flesh of her neck, pressing her fully against the door of the office with a thud.
Ayla’s hands tightened in his hair, as he pulled hers, his lips traveling across her neck, down to the buttons of her blouse. Her core responded to the brazenness of his caresses by flooding her panties with moisture.
Between her voluptuous buttocks, he rubbed, toying with the string of her thong, allowing it to slap against her center as his fingers danced precariously close to her openings, causing her core to clench with anticipation.
With long, deliberate strokes, he teased the entrance to her pussy, his thumb caressing her most delicate slot as he slipped a finger inside her.
She moaned softly, aware of Catrina sitting a few feet away at her desk, but she could barely stifle her cries when he added a second finger, his mouth finding the taut skin of her nipple.
He bared his teeth, nipping at her sensitive breast as the movements of his fingers grew more aggressive and Ayla began to writhe, trying to reach the precipice that was looming fast, trying to force him to send her over. But it was no use.
Diren had her exactly where he wanted her.
He sucked forcefully on her nipple, simultaneously working on her clit, the motions in tandem, robbing her of breath. He paused, just as a rush of liquid heat flooded through her to dampen his hand.
“Is this the kind of apology you’re looking for?” he taunted her as she realized she was trapped in this spot, at his mercy against the wood door. “Do I seem sorry enough yet?”
She whimpered as he rose to his full height, withdrawing his fingers to slowly slide one inside her gaping mouth, leaving the sweet essence of her on her own tongue.
The sensual and shocked look in her eyes as he pulled his finger away only added to the throbbing between his own legs and he boldly sucked on the other honey coated finger himself. The punch of lust that went straight to his groin at the taste of her almost made him groan out loud.
She looked so innocent as she stared at him, licking her own lips tentatively, and then sucking the trace of juices away eagerly.
He knew if he let her go, she would fall. Her body was soft beneath his.
Slowly, he began to slide his hand down the front of her body…