Secret Seductress (What's Her Secret?) by Geraldine O'Hara Page A

I’m-a-saucy-devil grin.
    He could be a saucy bloody devil with me any time.
    I sighed, as only the lovesick can, and propped my chin in one hand, planting my elbow firmly on the table in front of us. I toyed with the straw in my drink without looking at what I was doing, too immersed in waiting for that hem to go higher. It did, with a quick lift from Harry, who then hooked it over Leon’s head so he looked like one of those men who wore stockings to rob banks.
    “Torso!” I shouted, bolting up onto my feet and pointing at the men.
    Everyone turned to stare, and I blushed so hard I had the insane thought that my face was going to melt. Couples, groups of middle-aged friends and a few old men were the sum total of our drinking companions tonight, and none of them seemed amused by my loud outburst. They shifted their attention from me to Leon and back again, shaking their heads at me, the loud girl they undoubtedly thought needed to stop interrupting their quiet night out.
    Balls to them .
    I grabbed my drink and strode over to our male friends with the sole intent to rub my hands over that torso if it killed me. I heard Jen scraping her chair back behind me, and before I knew it, the pair of us were standing in front of Leon, who still couldn’t see a thing, what with his T-shirt being over his face.
    I mouthed shh with my finger to my lips then warmed my hands by rubbing them together. I held my breath for a second before placing them on his pecs. As soon as my palms made contact with his sun-burnished skin—he was a beefy builder by trade—every rational thought went out of my head. All I could think of was mauling him silly, rubbing myself up and down his front, and ending with a press of my breasts to his midsection—God, he was so tall—that would give me thrills every time I thought about it in the future.
    “Stop fucking about,” Leon said, his voice a bit muffled. “Whoever’s touching me had better bloody stop.”
    “What if I don’t want to?” I asked, changing my voice to a lower key.
    “Oh, Christ,” he said. “Who have we got here?”
    “Pussy Pwoar, that is,” Gary said, giving my arm a nudge. “She’s come here especially for you, mate.”
    I glanced across at Gary, who gave me the nod to fondle some more. I did, feeling oddly comforted by the presence of everyone around me. The lads and Jen had formed a circle, so no one else could see what we were up to. Emboldened by the secrecy they’d provided, I ran my fingertips up to the dip below his Adam’s apple then down, down, down to skim the pad of my thumb over his navel.
    An innie.
    I imagined dipping my tongue into it, then licking a path all the way up to his nipple. I glanced at Gary, who nodded, sticking his tongue out and looking quite pervy as he silently instructed me to make my next move. Amid cheers and laughter, I leaned forward and touched the tip of my tongue to Leon’s nipple. It burned—probably my imagination—and I swirled around it, my heart skittering madly and my clit doing all manner of throbby things that left me lightheaded. I breathed out, knowing he’d feel the warmth, and caught his nipple between my teeth.
    He sucked in a breath. “Fuck me, Pussy. Steady on, love.”
    Oh, I would fuck him, too, given half the chance.
    He laughed nervously, and as I continued my oral exploration of his now-hardened nipple, I fondled his torso, dipping my fingertips beneath his waistband. I almost leaped back in surprise. I’d brushed the head of his cock—his very hard cock. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of him getting excited by a stranger. Then again, he was being stimulated, basically blindfolded, and I imagined any single man would get a bit hot and bothered by that kind of attention. And that was the word that made this all okay, wasn’t it? Single. He didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. No girlfriend waiting at home, oblivious to what he was up to. Except, even though I was enjoying what I was doing to