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The song ended much too soon, with most of it spent kissing her. When he allowed her a chance to catch her breath, she whispered, “I wanted you so much back then.”
“Nika. You torture me.”
“I don’t mean to. I feel like I’m living a fantasy tonight.”
“I promise you, sweet, we’ve barely gotten started. We won’t push you much tonight. We know you have work to do.”
She bit her lip and looked like work was the last thing on her mind. “I’m afraid.”
“Of what, Nika?”
“What this might do to my heart.”
Travis’s heart thumped in his chest at the fear and lingering hurt in her eyes. Was she already bracing for disappointment? “It would break my heart to know I hurt you, Nika. Don’t be scared.”
Her eyes fluttered closed and she laid her head against his shoulder as he guided her around the floor.
Unsaid between them was the admission that none of them could know what the future held.
* * * *
“Open your eyes, Nika.”
Veronica looked around, realizing they were on the other side of the living room, near the writing desk, which was really a larger-sized dining room table, with all her papers, folders, and computers spread out on it.
“Ready, Nika?” Hank asked softly from behind her as the song changed again.
“Yes.”
Rivulets of pleasure and tension warred inside her as he settled his hands on her shoulders while Travis still held her. She couldn’t help the sigh that slipped from her lips. Chris Young sang “She’s Got This Thing About Her” and the experience was the closest thing to true ecstasy she’d ever known with clothing still on. She had a feeling that what they had planned would easily eclipse any experience she’d ever had without clothes on as well.
Gathering her hair in his hands, Hank lifted the thick bundle over her shoulder and said, “Tonight is about light, pleasurable play. You won’t even need a safeword. We simply want to explore with you.”
He slowly lowered the zipper at the back of her dress, sending gooseflesh dancing across her skin as his knuckles slid along her bare flesh. He gave a soft groan when he reached the red lace teddy and red satin bra she wore beneath the dress.
Grace had taken her shopping for lingerie to wear beneath the dress and she’d fallen instantly in love with Discretion and the incredible array of naughtiness they sold there.
“Damn, that’s sexy, Nika,” Hank whispered as he finally reached the end of the zipper and found the thong-back of the teddy. She looked up at him to gauge the truth of his reaction and he smiled at her, understanding in his eyes before he turned her in his arms so she now faced him and had her back to Travis.
“Holy hell, Nika,” Travis said in his deep, husky voice. “You’re luscious.”
She shuddered as his hands slid up her back and peeled the clingy dress from her shoulders before laying a kiss on her shoulder blade, raising more ticklish sensations and gooseflesh on her skin.
Hank lowered his lips to hers as the neckline of the dress descended to her waist and Travis slipped her arms from the three-quarter sleeves. She trembled and gasped as his warm fingertips slid the fabric down to her hips, a soft growl leaving his lips as it fell to the floor in a rush, leaving her bared to their view. Her insides tightened as she hoped for kindness from them about her dimples and her full thighs. Standing in the high heels and teddy, she felt incredibly vulnerable. Travis stopped her hands from creeping up to cover herself.
“Stop, Nika,” Hank whispered, his fingertips on her chin, drawing her eyes. “You’re beautiful. Perfection.” His words were softly spoken but somehow also forceful—no—insistent. He wanted her to believe him. Was the doubt in her eyes that obvious? It must have been.
Travis’s hand strayed over her right ass cheek and she jumped as he patted it gently, making it jiggle. She looked over her shoulder at him, suddenly worried as she found him watching her ass as he patted again. He smiled as he did it again and then glanced up at her. Lust, not ridicule, was in his eyes. She bit her lip and smiled at him, wishing she could quell her uncertainty long enough to tease him a little.
