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Kiss him.
Run away.
Women probably threw themselves at him all the time. The man was a SEAL, the best of the best. Fearless. Brave. Heroic. Ripped…
She froze, her legs a few inches away from his. What could she possibly offer this man that would make him melt? At twenty-three, she’d nearly returned to virgin territory. She could win over her fans night after night with her words. She could appear bold, even brazen, on the set for her video shoot. But here? Just her and the SEAL?
“Don’t quit now, honey,” he murmured, his tone soft and surprisingly gentle. “You’re doing great.”
She searched his face for a sign of pity. After growing up with next to nothing and enduring the sympathy that often went with asking for assistance like free lunch at school, she had a low tolerance for those “poor little girl” looks. And she didn’t want pity sex. She wanted to win his desire.
But there wasn’t a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Behind his relaxed façade, she sensed a need that reflected hers. And she moved between his splayed legs.
Touch him… Take him…
She gave her instincts free rein. Bent at the waist, she placed her hands on his thighs. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she felt the tension ripple through him as she let him look.
Now tease him…
She ran her hands up his legs and brushed past the hard bulge beneath his jeans. “I’ll come back for that,” she murmured. “But first…”
She wrapped her hands around the hem of his T-shirt and drew it up. Her knuckles glided over his abs. And then, thanks to her years of dance training, everything from tap to the more elaborate choreography she learned for her concerts, she drew his shirt over his head while climbing onto his lap.
She straddled his legs, and her knees pressed into the loveseat cushions. Her skirt now decorated her waist, but he still kept his hands to himself.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his ear. “What are you waiting for?”
“An invitation.” He growled.
“Touch me,” she said. “Please.”
His hands wrapped around her hips and drew her close against him. He rocked his hips up into hers, and she felt her control slipping away. And the realization dawned on her as the feel of him, even through his jeans, sent little shockwaves radiating out from her core. He’d been holding back, because once he started, he might not be able to stop.
His hands slipped around to her bare backside. “A short skirt and thong underwear,” he murmured. “That’s a dangerous combination.”
His finger teased the thin strip of fabric running between her cheeks, pulling it up. The front of her panties drew tight across her clit. She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to decipher the sensations. His hard cock pressing against her. The silk underwear. His fingers releasing the back of her thong and gently slipping it back between her cheeks…
“Tell me more,” he said. “What else do you want?”
He wanted directions? She opened her eyes and parted her lips. “You’ve already kissed me on-camera. Let’s see how you do when nobody’s watching.”
“I don’t need an audience.”
She was still sitting on his lap, but even though she was providing the roadmap, she’d lost control of her seduction. With a grin that told her he’d taken over and he knew it, he ran his hands up to her waist and drew her back. Then he lowered his mouth to the bare skin peeking out over her maid costume.
Her nipples grew tight with anticipation. But he obeyed the barrier set by her neckline, never allowing his tongue to dip below.
“I can take it off,” she murmured.
He lifted his lips off her breasts and met her gaze. “Not a good idea. You should never abandon your disguise in the middle of a mission.”
“Is that a Navy SEAL rule?”
“Right now, it’s my rule.”
As if he needed to prove he’d claimed control, he ran his hands down her bare legs and then guided her feet onto the loveseat beside him. “Plus, I like the challenge,” he added. “Now, be a good little maid and place your left foot on the sofa.”
“Dante—”
