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“Are you wet for me, rojita?” he murmured again in Spanish, his eyes daring her to respond.

Oh, shit! Lexie tucked a few strands of loose tendrils behind her ear with unsteady fingers while surreptitiously glancing around to see if anybody understood what the wicked man had just said.

Priscilla was clicking away, the photo assistant hovering by the sidelines. Trey had disappeared and the art director and country manager appeared to be in deep conversation.

“What do you think?” she shot back with more bravado than she was feeling.

“Let’s find out.” Nic stepped forward from the studio backdrop and grabbed her hand. In her fevered state, Lexie hadn’t realized the shoot had ended. He yanked her hand and pulled her inside the dressing room. He shut the door and locked it with a decisive click.

“Nic!” She started backing off at the dangerous glint in his eyes.

He tugged off his tie, tossing it on a chair carelessly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed frantically, keeping her voice low as he started undoing the buttons on his shirt. The room was small with a wheeled dress rack and a table with a Hollywood mirror and chair. His pants came down next and he kicked it to one side. She swallowed at his enormous erection.

“Strip,” he commanded in a low, dangerous voice.

She had really meant to say no. Honest. “H –here?” she stammered. “N−now?”

“Here and now.” His eyes were blazing with wicked sexual heat and Lexie feared she would start combusting spontaneously.

“Won’t they know what we’re doing in here?”

His jaw was tight and his eyes looked almost wild. He wasn’t moving though, waiting for her to make that leap. “I don’t fucking care.”

Oh, God. The F word. She didn’t really have any choice in the matter. Trembling she reached for the back of her dress and unzipped it. The shift dress fell to her feet, leaving her in her underwear, gartered stockings, and shoes. She heard Nic groan as he quickly grabbed her by the waist and fastened his lips to hers, his tongue plunging and tangling with hers. Lexie’s knees buckled and Nic guided them clumsily to the chair, their mouths still locked in a torrid kiss. Nic’s erection fit exactly in her wet, pantied crotch.

“Turn around, Lexie,” he said, pulling his mouth away from hers with reluctance.

“Wh−what?” she asked stupidly. Her neurons could not process what she was hearing.

Nic held her by the waist and spun her around so her back was pressed to his chest. She started to protest but was suddenly mesmerized by their reflection on the bright mirror surrounded by light bulbs. She watched as Nic removed her bra and replaced it with his hands, cupping her breasts, his tanned skin in contrast with her pale one. She felt him kissing her back and realized he was kissing her tattoo.

“Oh my God,” she groaned when he started tugging on her nipples, pinching them with his index fingers and thumbs, setting up a rhythm that went straight between her legs. He started sucking on an earlobe and Lexie almost came right then.

“Not yet, rojita,” he whispered huskily as his hands came up under her thighs and lifted them. “Place your feet on the table and spread your legs wide.”

Should she be worried how shameless she was behaving? Maybe later, but not now when she couldn’t even believe how much she wanted Nic to do those wicked, wanton things she could be shamefaced about post−sex.

“So fucking sexy.” His voice was decadent as he caressed the garters on her thighs down to her stocking-clad legs. Lexie noted absently that she still had her shoes on. A hand came to her crotch and ripped her panty off.

Lexie gasped in delicious shock.

“You wanted me to find out how wet you are, rojita?” She could barely nod at the wanting in his eyes reflected in the mirror. “Then watch.”

Hypnotized, Lexie’s gaze fixed itself on the mirror and at the area between her legs. Nic’s left hand opened her up. “So fucking beautiful,” he uttered as he slid a finger inside her. “So wet and slick and hot.” He worked a second finger in, and Lexie moaned as he did his magic. “Open your eyes, Lexie,” he ordered when the pleasure was becoming too much and she had dropped her head back against his chest, squeezing her eyes shut. Her breathing ragged. “I want you to watch yourself as I make you come.”

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