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Even with her make-up smeared, Amy was the hottest woman Ryker had ever seen. When she moved closer and straddled his lap, he thought he would swallow his tongue. Her dark brown eyes beckoned him to kiss her, and even though he was going to say no to her invitation, he was definitely going to kiss her.
He pressed her back just a little bit so that she wouldn’t be sitting on his erection, because mercy, there was only much temptation one man could handle. Then he thrust his fingers through her hair like he had been dying to do since he had seen her in the lobby, and drew her in close.
He laughed when he felt her grip his shaggy hair and pull his head backward. “My show,” she muttered.
“Sundays are usually Ladies’ Night, so go for it,” he grinned.
Her eyes glittered and her grin turned wicked. She twisted his head a little to the right, then she smashed her mouth against his, and Ryker thought his head was going to explode. He’d briefly tasted her pillowy lips one other time, but now to have them dancing sensuously against his, coaxing him to open for her—
Damn!
She’d bit his lip.
Ryker’s cock jumped.
He opened his mouth so they could deepen the kiss, all the while having a conversation with his dick explaining why making love with Amy was too soon. As Amy’s satiny tongue slid along his, his conversation turned into an argument.
Amy pressed herself closer to his chest, and Ryker felt the hard points of her nipples through the silk of her dress and his dress shirt. She was killing him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer, snuggling her core against his needy erection.
Ryker didn’t even realize that Amy’s hands had left his hair until he felt her nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt.
“No, Honey,” he whispered. “It’s too soon.”
“Ryker, it’s six months too late.” She whispered the words against his lips, her dark eyes twinkling as she teased him.
“I don’t like the terms of your deal,” Ryker tried to protest again.
She thrust a hand inside his shirt and stroked him from his throat, down his sternum to his navel. Ryker shuddered. “Again,” he begged.
“See this is a good deal,” she purred.
Ryker eyed her dress and realized he hadn’t felt any zippers, so it must just pull over her head. That was good. That was very good. He needed obstacles in front of him. Something that would stop him from making love to this temptress, because he rejected the idea of them not having a relationship. He vehemently opposed it.
Amy parted his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.
“God, I’ve wanted to see you without a shirt for such a long time,” she moaned. She bit the tendon between his neck and his shoulder. Not too hard, just hard enough to make him groan. He went to pull her closer, then realized he was stuck.
“Cufflinks,” he growled out bitterly.
“I’ll take care of that,” she smiled.
Watching Amy do the mundane task of undoing his cufflinks was like watching a high-art erotica film. She had trouble working his right cufflink, and as she was concentrating to get it undone, the tip of her tongue peeked out and she bit it. Ryker was sure he was going to lose it.
When she was done, she grinned up at him.
“Give me your lips,” he demanded. She did. And he kissed her. Long, lazy, golden kisses that melted the world away. When they needed air, he released her lips and kissed the side of her mouth, then her cheek, then he stopped as he tasted the salt of her tears. Tears that she had just been shedding twenty minutes ago.
“Take off your shirt, Ryker.” Her whisper was pure sin.
He stood up with her in his arms. She let out a giggle.
He took them into the bedroom.
“Do you know what my fantasy is?” Ryker asked her.
“You taking off your shirt and showing me all your badass muscles?” Amy said hopefully.