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“Put your hands beneath your breasts. Cup them for me.”
There was only the slightest pause before she lifted her hands to do as he’d asked.
“Is that all you want me to do for you?”
Sweet Lord, she was going to be the death of him. Ashley was not only rising to the occasion, she was teasing him as much as he was teasing her. Even more.
“Touch yourself the way I would.”
Thankfully, she knew what he meant as she ran her fingertips over the soft swells of her breasts. Her eyes fluttered closed as she touched herself, and this time, the moan came from her.
“Your panties,” he managed to grind out. “Take them off.”
He watched her throat moving convulsively, her eyes slowly opening as she moved her hands from her breasts to her hips. Slowly, she slipped her fingers beneath the cotton fabric. And then she was shimmying her panties down legs that were so much longer than they had seemed when she was fully clothed.
Nash had seen more naked women than he could count. He’d earned his playboy status. He’d lived every musician’s fantasy.
But all of the women from his past paled in comparison to Ashley.
He felt like he was looking at a woman for the very first time. A real woman. A woman who was beautiful, not in spite of the faint stretch marks on her stomach, but because of them.
“Do you want me to touch myself again?”
She threw the words down as a softly spoken gauntlet. One that he knew would have him losing all control if she moved her fingers even one inch closer to her sex. But he wasn’t ready for their game to end yet.
“Come here.” She blinked at his gently spoken command, before moving slowly toward him.
It occurred to him that she might find their game sexist, because he was the one telling her what to do. But when she smiled with delight and pleasure, he understood that when she’d told him that she wanted to live out one of his fantasies, she’d meant it. Tonight, she’d set all rules aside, all taboos, all ideas of the roles they should and shouldn’t be playing. Instead, she was willingly, and happily, giving herself completely over to being with him.
Of course, before tonight was done, he was going to make sure she also had her say. Hell yes, he was dying to know her fantasies.
“Climb onto my lap,” he said next.
Without any hesitation, she moved over him. He cupped her hips, her bare skin warm beneath his callused fingertips.
“Kiss me.”
She put her hands on his shoulders and pressed herself close as she lowered her mouth to his. Her kiss was soft, gentle, and sexier than any kiss he’d ever had.
He ran his fingertips and the flats of his palms from her hips to her waist to the press of her breasts against his bare chest. Little gasps came from her throat as she took their kiss deeper.
Of their own volition, her hips moved against his, his polyester-covered erection pressing up against her. This game they were playing as they brought one of his fantasies about her to life was the hottest one he’d ever played. Especially when she slid from his lap to kneel between his legs.
Putting her hands on the belt buckle of his Army green pants, she said, “This is the next part of your fantasy, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t speak, could manage only a nod.
Looking like the cat who’d gotten the cream, she undid his belt, then drew down the zipper. Moving his boxers and pants out of the way, she looked extremely pleased by what she saw.
“Let me guess what comes next,” she said barely above a whisper.
Before he could take his next breath, her lips were on him. She ran soft kisses from the head of his shaft, down to the base. He forgot to breathe as she licked him as though he were the tastiest ice cream cone she’d ever had.
That was when he realized he couldn’t possibly play this game another second.
Putting his hands around her rib cage, he lifted her up from the carpet so that she was on the couch. Laying her back against the cushions, he levered over her.
“I have to have you, Ashley. Now.”
“I have to have you too.” But then she frowned. “I wasn’t expecting to come to Vienna and have sex with anyone. I don’t have any protection. Do you?”
Hating to let go of her for one single second, he fumbled for his wallet in his pants on the floor. Thank God there was a condom in there.
He held it up triumphantly. “You know us musicians, we’re always prepared.”
He didn’t realize until he’d spoken that she might not be thrilled by the reminder of how many women he’d slept with, or that he was always ready for action.
