wasn’t going to happen. Control wasn’t the most important thing; it was everything. “You’ll like my way. You’re already wet thinking about it, aren’t you?”
Her quick intake of breath was all he needed for confirmation. Resisting the urge to beat his chest like some sort of caveman, he poured himself a finger of honey-colored liquid and sat down in the leather club chair, folding his leg so his ankle rested on top of his knee. Each movement was precise, executed with deliberate slowness to draw out the moment, increase the tension between them until it was nearly unbearable. Elle rushed, and it was time she learned the pleasure of a leisurely pace. Taking a sip of akvavit, he wished he hadn’t stopped smoking. A good cigar right now would give him something to do with his free hand that didn’t involve touching her. It wasn’t easy. Good thing he never liked anything simple; the harder the better the victory at the end.
“And what does your way entail?” she asked, looking down at him with a mix of curiosity and hunger.
Her husky voice was as good as a hand wrapped around his dick. The woman was fucking lethal to his self-control. Downing his drink and walking away was the smart move, the right move. He should get up right now, but there was no fucking way that was going to happen. As long as he stayed smart about things, he wouldn’t lose control. He sat back in his chair as if he wasn’t about to spontaneously combust. “I want to see what you’ve learned.”
Her brown eyes widened in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I know all about the time in Vegas. I forget, was the window that you were pressed naked against on the sixteenth floor?” His cock twitched beneath his pants. The brief mention in the surveillance report had him hard for days, no matter how many times he’d jacked off. “And then there was the time you came while sitting in that corner booth at the restaurant with your lover’s fingers buried in your sweet pussy. My favorite, though, was the supply closet in the dance club.” He sipped his drink, burning too hot to feel the liquid fire as it made its way down to his stomach. “You shut the door so I couldn’t watch, but I stood guard outside and listened. I didn’t know a person could make such a desperately blissful noise.”
The sweetest pink flush made her bad girl curves rosy. “You were there?”
“That time?” The sound she’d made had embedded itself into his fantasies, but when he had stroked his cock, she wasn’t moaning wordlessly—she was calling his name. “Yes.”
Her hand on her hip and the downturn to her sensual lips all screamed displeasure, but the lusty gleam in her eyes was anything but censorious. “We’re going to talk about this after.”
“About how we watched you or about your lovers?”
She narrowed her eyes, and this time it wasn’t just desire smoldering in her gaze. “Are you trying to shame me?”
“Fuck, no, especially not when I’m about to hear that sexy moan of yours while you’re naked in front of me.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked. “Me naked?”
“It’s a start.” He had a list, a long one that started with naked and ended with too tired to ever come again.
“So where should I begin?” She stepped between his splayed legs as she toyed with the hem of her sweater. “With this or…” She brought one stiletto-shod foot up so it rested on the seat in front of his groin, the toe of her shoe brushing ever so lightly against his balls. She bent forward and ran her hands up her legs, pushing up her skirt and revealing the lacy tops of a pair of thigh highs held up by black satin garters. She glided her fingertips over the snap holding them in place. “Or here?”
His mouth went dry, and his lungs pinched closed. “Leave them on.”
“Careful.” She put her leg down and smoothed her skirt. “I was afraid you were going to pass out on me. You gotta remember to breathe.”
Cheeky girl. She’d learn,
Her quick intake of breath was all he needed for confirmation. Resisting the urge to beat his chest like some sort of caveman, he poured himself a finger of honey-colored liquid and sat down in the leather club chair, folding his leg so his ankle rested on top of his knee. Each movement was precise, executed with deliberate slowness to draw out the moment, increase the tension between them until it was nearly unbearable. Elle rushed, and it was time she learned the pleasure of a leisurely pace. Taking a sip of akvavit, he wished he hadn’t stopped smoking. A good cigar right now would give him something to do with his free hand that didn’t involve touching her. It wasn’t easy. Good thing he never liked anything simple; the harder the better the victory at the end.
“And what does your way entail?” she asked, looking down at him with a mix of curiosity and hunger.
Her husky voice was as good as a hand wrapped around his dick. The woman was fucking lethal to his self-control. Downing his drink and walking away was the smart move, the right move. He should get up right now, but there was no fucking way that was going to happen. As long as he stayed smart about things, he wouldn’t lose control. He sat back in his chair as if he wasn’t about to spontaneously combust. “I want to see what you’ve learned.”
Her brown eyes widened in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I know all about the time in Vegas. I forget, was the window that you were pressed naked against on the sixteenth floor?” His cock twitched beneath his pants. The brief mention in the surveillance report had him hard for days, no matter how many times he’d jacked off. “And then there was the time you came while sitting in that corner booth at the restaurant with your lover’s fingers buried in your sweet pussy. My favorite, though, was the supply closet in the dance club.” He sipped his drink, burning too hot to feel the liquid fire as it made its way down to his stomach. “You shut the door so I couldn’t watch, but I stood guard outside and listened. I didn’t know a person could make such a desperately blissful noise.”
The sweetest pink flush made her bad girl curves rosy. “You were there?”
“That time?” The sound she’d made had embedded itself into his fantasies, but when he had stroked his cock, she wasn’t moaning wordlessly—she was calling his name. “Yes.”
Her hand on her hip and the downturn to her sensual lips all screamed displeasure, but the lusty gleam in her eyes was anything but censorious. “We’re going to talk about this after.”
“About how we watched you or about your lovers?”
She narrowed her eyes, and this time it wasn’t just desire smoldering in her gaze. “Are you trying to shame me?”
“Fuck, no, especially not when I’m about to hear that sexy moan of yours while you’re naked in front of me.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked. “Me naked?”
“It’s a start.” He had a list, a long one that started with naked and ended with too tired to ever come again.
“So where should I begin?” She stepped between his splayed legs as she toyed with the hem of her sweater. “With this or…” She brought one stiletto-shod foot up so it rested on the seat in front of his groin, the toe of her shoe brushing ever so lightly against his balls. She bent forward and ran her hands up her legs, pushing up her skirt and revealing the lacy tops of a pair of thigh highs held up by black satin garters. She glided her fingertips over the snap holding them in place. “Or here?”
His mouth went dry, and his lungs pinched closed. “Leave them on.”
“Careful.” She put her leg down and smoothed her skirt. “I was afraid you were going to pass out on me. You gotta remember to breathe.”
Cheeky girl. She’d learn,
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