“Of course.” Dorian bit back a grin at the image of his so-called gold-plated dick. “From now on, I’ll make sure she knowsexactlywhere she can come.”
Behind him, the woman snickered softly, but the guard was less than amused.
“Get dressed and hang up those coats. Now.” He slammed the door shut, giving them a few final moments of privacy.
Bathed again in darkness, Dorian and his woman could only laugh.
“Iknewyou’d get me into trouble,” he whispered, holding out an arm to steady her as she stepped into the dress.
“Me? You’re the one who dragged me into the closet and—”
“Andwhat?” He zipped her up and pulled her close again, his hand dipping up under the dress, right between her thighs.
It was his new favorite place, and he wasn’t quite ready to leave it.
“And touched me,” she whispered.
“Did I?” He ran a feather-light finger along her clit, then slipped inside. She was still so wet for him, so eager. “If this wasmypenthouse, I’d have you tied up and spread out on my bed by now. No interruptions. No company.” He ran his nose along the elegant slope of her neck, nipping her shoulder. “No escape.”
The woman gasped, her legs quaking again as he pumped her with slow, deliberate thrusts. The guard was certainly standing right outside the door, but Dorian suspected his woman didn’t care, and for the moment, neither did he.
“We’ve got fifteen seconds, maybe thirty before he opens that door again,” he whispered. “Can you come for me that quickly?”
He thrust in deeper, thumb rubbing her clit. She opened her mouth to moan, to scream, to let it all out, but he silenced her with a kiss, stealing her breath as he coaxed a final, epic wave from her beautiful body, holding her through the very last tremor.
When they finally opened the closet door, they were the very picture of composure.
“Christ, mister.” The guard eyed them warily as they stepped into the study. “You drop threelargeon a painting of wet fuckin’ grass, and you can’t afford to take your wife somewhere nice?”
“Maybe for our next date.” Dorian slipped his arm around the woman’s waist, guiding her out of the study and into the hallway.
The guard followed. “A hotel? There’s lots of ‘em in this city. Real fancy ones too.”
“Good call,” he said.
“Maybe a cruise? Ladies love that shit.”
“Thank you for your input.”
“Anytime,” the guard said. They’d reached the foyer, and he punched the button to call up the elevator, then turned to them with a threatening smile. “Now get the fuck outta here. And have a lovely evening.”
Chapter Ten
Reeling. That was the only word for it.
Charley’s head was as hot and floaty as a helium balloon, the rest of her body still vibrating from all the things he’d done to her with that sexy, filthy mouth.
Goodlord, that man had a gift.
She was weak, she was wet, but even as the elevator doors closed, cutting them off from the guard’s punishing glare, Charley couldn’t stop laughing.
“Did that just happen?” she asked. “Did we seriously get kicked out of a private auction like a couple of kids caught stealing booze?”
“Fughettaboutit, lady. This ain’t a hotel.” Her man scowled, doing a terrible job impersonating the security guard’s Brooklyn accent, sending Charley into another laughing fit.
They cracked up the entire ride to the ground level, all the way through the lobby, and out onto the sidewalk, where they nearly collided with a hot-dog cart.
“Could this night get any more perfect?” The man spread his hands like he was receiving a blessing, some divine intervention raining down upon them from the cart’s red-and-yellow umbrellas. “Tell me you’re hungry, and tell me you like hot dogs.”
