foot cleared the boxes between them. She put a foot on the cushion between his legs and leaned over. “What do you think of this pair?”
Zac’s eyes were level with her breasts, which were neatly covered by her button-up lavender silk shirt, but those nipples were dangerously hard.
She tapped his chin. “I’m talking about the shoes, lover boy.”
He set the water bottle on the floor beside an open shoebox. “Let me take a closer look.”
Chapter 8
Computer geek that he was, the man had the right idea by suggesting Rachel put on the shoes and walk in them. Haute Heels were not the kind of shoes a woman slipped into at the last minute and slipped out of as soon as her feet were beneath a table or desk because they were so damned painful. These shoes were a dream to wear. Almost like walking on clouds. The owner’s mother—the company’s founder—had one stipulation for every pair of shoes sold: they must be comfortable.
And the pair Rachel wore right now caressed her soles. The silk ties that wrapped about her ankles made her feel like a cross between a ballet dancer and something more daring and sensual, like maybe a stripper.
Nothing wrong with feeling like an angel who also grips the pole. And thinking about poles…
Zac’s hard-on was obvious as she drew her foot along his thigh to give him a closer look at the shoe. He gripped her ankle firmly and growled as the heel dug into his thigh. His hand glided over the silk ties and then he danced a fingertip along the inner curve of her arch. Oooh, that felt as good as if he were stroking her nipple.
“This shoe is sex tied up in black silk,” he commented.
“I like that. More,” she encouraged, leaning in to dash her tongue over his lower lip. Again, he tasted like the expensive coffee the barista across the street sold. Discerning geek. “Does the shoe turn you on?”
“The shoe on the woman turns me on.”
“So the woman is an integral part of the seduction?”
“Hell, yes. You think I’m going to get off on the shoe? Just a shoe?”
She smiled against his lips and kissed him quickly. Meeting his soulful brown eyes, she said, “I’ve been told there are some who prefer just the shoe.”
“Not me. I like what’s inside them. And these satin ties definitely make me think about tying you up.”
“Is that so?”
He slid his hands up her thighs, nudging up the skirt until she felt the air on her pantiless crotch. She straddled him, kneeling on the couch. The idea of a little kink appealed, but when her brain started to sort out how that could happen in an office—no restraints, no silk handkerchiefs or ties—her business logic struggled to take charge and resisted. Besides, she had to stay in the creative moment.
Zac leaned forward and bit the button on her silk shirt just between her breasts. He tugged, button in mouth. Once it had pulled free from the buttonhole, he released the other three buttons as quickly and glided his hands up to cup her lace-hugged breasts.
It was dinnertime, the office was empty, and the lights were low, but the shades were not pulled. Rachel briefly considered leaping up to draw the shades, then decided against it. If the man wanted a little kink, what could be more adventurous than the risk of being seen?
Gripping his skinny, gray tie, she loosened it and tugged it free, tossing it to the shoe-littered floor. His jacket slid off next, followed by his shirt as she unbuttoned it in tandem with him unsnapping the clasp in the front of her bra. She sat on his lap, grinding her mons against his impressive erection.
As his warm palm cupped her breast, he leaned in to gently bite her nipple, causing a heady sensation to zing from chest, to core, to her wet, wanting insides. “You sure this is safe?”
“You want it to be?” she asked.
“Only thinking of you and the office gossip mill.”
“None of our employees are so dedicated you’ll catch them here after hours.”
“You’re here.”
Zac’s eyes were level with her breasts, which were neatly covered by her button-up lavender silk shirt, but those nipples were dangerously hard.
She tapped his chin. “I’m talking about the shoes, lover boy.”
He set the water bottle on the floor beside an open shoebox. “Let me take a closer look.”
Chapter 8
Computer geek that he was, the man had the right idea by suggesting Rachel put on the shoes and walk in them. Haute Heels were not the kind of shoes a woman slipped into at the last minute and slipped out of as soon as her feet were beneath a table or desk because they were so damned painful. These shoes were a dream to wear. Almost like walking on clouds. The owner’s mother—the company’s founder—had one stipulation for every pair of shoes sold: they must be comfortable.
And the pair Rachel wore right now caressed her soles. The silk ties that wrapped about her ankles made her feel like a cross between a ballet dancer and something more daring and sensual, like maybe a stripper.
Nothing wrong with feeling like an angel who also grips the pole. And thinking about poles…
Zac’s hard-on was obvious as she drew her foot along his thigh to give him a closer look at the shoe. He gripped her ankle firmly and growled as the heel dug into his thigh. His hand glided over the silk ties and then he danced a fingertip along the inner curve of her arch. Oooh, that felt as good as if he were stroking her nipple.
“This shoe is sex tied up in black silk,” he commented.
“I like that. More,” she encouraged, leaning in to dash her tongue over his lower lip. Again, he tasted like the expensive coffee the barista across the street sold. Discerning geek. “Does the shoe turn you on?”
“The shoe on the woman turns me on.”
“So the woman is an integral part of the seduction?”
“Hell, yes. You think I’m going to get off on the shoe? Just a shoe?”
She smiled against his lips and kissed him quickly. Meeting his soulful brown eyes, she said, “I’ve been told there are some who prefer just the shoe.”
“Not me. I like what’s inside them. And these satin ties definitely make me think about tying you up.”
“Is that so?”
He slid his hands up her thighs, nudging up the skirt until she felt the air on her pantiless crotch. She straddled him, kneeling on the couch. The idea of a little kink appealed, but when her brain started to sort out how that could happen in an office—no restraints, no silk handkerchiefs or ties—her business logic struggled to take charge and resisted. Besides, she had to stay in the creative moment.
Zac leaned forward and bit the button on her silk shirt just between her breasts. He tugged, button in mouth. Once it had pulled free from the buttonhole, he released the other three buttons as quickly and glided his hands up to cup her lace-hugged breasts.
It was dinnertime, the office was empty, and the lights were low, but the shades were not pulled. Rachel briefly considered leaping up to draw the shades, then decided against it. If the man wanted a little kink, what could be more adventurous than the risk of being seen?
Gripping his skinny, gray tie, she loosened it and tugged it free, tossing it to the shoe-littered floor. His jacket slid off next, followed by his shirt as she unbuttoned it in tandem with him unsnapping the clasp in the front of her bra. She sat on his lap, grinding her mons against his impressive erection.
As his warm palm cupped her breast, he leaned in to gently bite her nipple, causing a heady sensation to zing from chest, to core, to her wet, wanting insides. “You sure this is safe?”
“You want it to be?” she asked.
“Only thinking of you and the office gossip mill.”
“None of our employees are so dedicated you’ll catch them here after hours.”
“You’re here.”
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