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She was not going to lie back and take the pleasure he wanted to give her, she intended to give with every lustful molecule in her body. He’d offered her an experience she would remember until the day she died. Now she planned to do the same.
Using the one thing she did best.
She quickly scanned the room, thinking ahead. “Where’d that come from?” she asked, pointing to an old-fashioned, straight backed chair in the corner. It, a simple, immaculately clean dresser and an enormous four-poster bed were the only things in the room. The chair didn’t look at all new like the rest.
“My parents insisted on giving me stuff…I had to take something and there’s no room for it in the living room.”
“It won’t fit with that TV that’s more suited for the Jolly Green Giant’s living room,” she said with a low laugh. Licking her lips, she pointed to the chair. “Go sit down.”
One of his eyebrows rose, but he obeyed, watching with interest to see what she was up to. Izzie glanced around the room, looking for a radio, a boombox, something.
No luck. Nick’s bedroom was nearly empty, with just the furniture and a smaller TV on the dresser. There wasn’t a piece of clothing on the floor, or a speck of dust anywhere. It was nearly Spartan…military, she assumed. And it lacked the warmth she knew Nick possessed.
She hoped that someday he allowed that warmth to spill free and become part of his home as well as a part of his life.
“You got me where you wanted me,” he drawled from the chair. He put his hands behind his head, his fingers laced, and leaned back against the wall. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his forearms bulged and flexed. His big, strong legs were sprawled out in front of him and for a second, Izzie was tempted to climb right onto his lap.
She could unzip his jeans, tug them out of the way, release that big erection she could see from here. It would be delicious to slip her panties off, lift her skirt, then slide down onto him to ride him to her heart’s content.
Not yet. First she needed to delight his senses the way he’d delighted hers last week. He’d focused on her sense of touch and smell-she could still inhale and remember that sweet, cheesy filling he’d smeared all over her. And her body tingled at the memory of his lips and tongue removing that filling.
They’d played games with food. She intended to whet his taste buds with something else.
The sight of her body.
Suddenly remembering what he’d done with the TV in the other room, she grabbed the remote control and turned on the bedroom one. Punching in a few numbers-familiar, since she liked listening to the same station at her own apartment-she landed on a channel that played sultry Latina music.
Because luck was a woman, the song was a slower one with a sultry back-beat and a sensuous rhythm. Easy to dance to.
“What are you…”
“Watch me,” she whispered. Watch me and I’ll make you burn.
She began to move, closing her eyes and letting the music roll through her. Since childhood Izzie had had an affinity for music-all types of music. It had always made her want to move. To sway or to spin, to leap or to bend. She just had a dancing gene that demanded release whenever the right beat hit her ears and rolled on down through her body.
This one was perfect for seduction.
Keeping focused on her own instincts-giving herself pleasure by the simple act of moving-she knew Nick would gain pleasure, too. At first she simply danced. Her eyes still closed, she threw her head back and tangled her hand in her hair. Rocking her hips, she gyrated against an imaginary partner, sliding down and up against an invisible thigh, quivering under the touch of a hand that wasn’t there.
She heard Nick groan softly. Licking her lips, she slid her hand down her own body. Her hips still rocking, she touched her stomach, then slid her hand lower, resting her fingertips on her pelvis. Her other hand she moved across her chest, scraping her nipples, already rock hard in anticipation and excitement.
“Izzie…”
“Shh.”
She didn’t look at him, didn’t let him distract her. Instead, she tugged her top free of her waistband. Flicking at the snap and pushing down the zipper of her skirt, she rocked until the thing fell to the floor. She kicked it out of the way, never losing the beat, her body in constant, sensual motion.
Her top came next. She dragged it up-slowly, so slowly-letting the fabric fall back an inch for every two she raised it. She could hear Nick’s ragged breathing over the music. Could hear her own heart pounding in her chest, too. Every move she made was an invitation and a promise.
She pulled the top off, sensual even when untangling her hair from the material. Clad in nothing but a skimpy bra and thong panties, and her high heeled sandals, she bent over and swung her head, letting her hair fly free.
