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“Absolutely. He’s in his office.” Gail reached for the phone on her desk. “Would you like for me to let him know you’re here?”
“No, I’d rather surprise him,” Jill said, stopping Gail before she could announce her presence and she lost the element of throwing her husband a little off kilter. Gaining the upper hand in any situation didn’t happen often with Dean, and this was one time it would definitely work to her advantage.
“I’m sure he’d like that.” Gail waved a hand toward the back offices, giving Jill the silent go-ahead.
She walked past Gail’s desk, belatedly realizing just how close the secretary was to the other offices. Just behind the reception area was a large conference room, and she recognized the deep male voice talking as Dean’s partner, Brent “Mac” MacMillan.
She glanced surreptitiously inside as she passed and saw the back of Mac’s broad shoulders, and three other big, buff, good looking men who worked security detail for the company. They were standing straight in a row with their feet braced apart and hands clasped behind their backs in a stance she recognized as military trained.
Because Mac commanded their attention as he issued instructions for their next security detail, none of the three men acknowledged her, though their intuitive gazes definitely tracked her progress as she strolled by. The men Dean and Mac hired were all ex-military—tough, bad-ass, alpha men like her husband. Silent, always aware, and incredibly intense. Only the absolute best of the best for Noble and Associates.
She continued on her way. To the right was Mac’s currently empty office, and to the left was her husband’s. His door was halfway closed, and she knocked on the wooden surface before slipping inside and making an appearance.
He glanced up from the paperwork he’d been perusing, his dark, sable brows still furrowed in concentration. As soon as he saw her, his gray eyes flickered with surprise, then quickly shifted to concern. Because she knew him so well, she caught the subtle tensing of his body, that vigilant awareness that something was off.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his calm tone belying just how alert he was. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is just fine,” she rushed to reassure him, before his over-protective demeanor took over and derailed her plans. She understood his worry—she didn’t stop by the office often, and never without calling him first. Of course he’d think the worst.
She closed the door and pressed in the lock to assure them privacy, which didn’t escape his notice. Knowing the rest of her plan succeeding now relied on Dean’s response to what she did next, she bolstered her confidence one last time and slowly strolled toward him.
She put an extra sway in her hips, and tugged loose the tie on her wrap around dress. She allowed the
fabric to flutter open in front, just enough to tantalize him with a smooth expanse of thigh as she walked. Predictably, his gaze immediately dropped to the flash of skin, and the last of her nerves gave way to anticipation.
“I want to get your opinion on something I bought today,” she said huskily.
He never cared about what she purchased for herself, but then again, she rarely spent frivolously or excessively, even when he encouraged her to spoil herself. They were well off now, his company worth millions, but when they’d first married right out of high school with a baby on the way, saving and budgeting had become a habit for her—one she was just learning to break every once in a while. After today, she hoped to have a reason to continue to splurge.
“I went to Sugar and Spice today to visit Raina, and I found something I thought you might like, but I wanted to be absolutely sure.” One of her good friends, Raina, owned Sugar and Spice, an adult boutique that carried gorgeous lingerie, high end sex toys, and other erotic novelty items.
Dean was well aware of that, too.
He leaned back in his leather chair, regarding her with undisguised interest and a whole lot of heat in his eyes. “You definitely have my attention,” he drawled in that low, sexy timbre that still had the ability to make her shiver like the infatuated girl she’d once been with him. Still was, actually.
She came around the side of his desk and stopped a few feet away, then released the belt on her dress, which opened completely. A shrug of her shoulders, and the material slid down both of her arms and pooled around her black stiletto heels, leaving her clad in nothing more than a push-up bra with just enough lace to cover her hardened nipples, and matching G-string panties—both in red, his favorite color on her.
She heard the breath rush from his lungs as he took in her skimpy, barely there attire. “Jesus, Jill,” he said, his voice sounding shocked and strangled, though his intense, molten gray eyes glowed with appreciation.
Her stomach tumbled with desire. Her figure wasn’t model perfect and she no longer possessed a young, nubile body. She’d given birth to two kids and while she watched her weight and did yoga five times a week, she had full breasts and curves that were soft and supple and womanly. And right now, with him devouring her with his gaze, she felt sexy and incredibly exhilarated.
She skimmed her fingers along the lace edge of her bra, then trailed them down her belly, to the thin band of her panties. “Do you like it?” she asked oh-so-guilelessly.
“Hell, yeah, I like it,” he growled deep in his throat. “A lot.”
He’d yet to touch her, and that’s what she wanted most of all. He was watching her as if he wasn’t certain what to expect because this was so out of character for her, so she didn’t hesitate to show him. Stepping between his spread knees, she braced one hand on the armrest so she was leaning over him, grabbed his deep purple tie with her other hand and pulled his mouth closer to hers.
“Good,” she breathed against his lips. “Because I bought it with you in mind.”
She slid her mouth against his, feeling his initial surprise, which thankfully didn’t last long. With a groan that sounded like the sweetest of surrender, he buried his fingers into her hair and did what he did best . . . he took control of the situation.
His mouth claimed hers, firm and insistent, his tongue hot and demanding as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly, resisting the urge to crawl onto his lap and let him have his way with her, which he no doubt expected, because she always let him lead and bent to his will.
Not that having Dean in charge was a bad thing, but today was all about switching things up, being adventurous and spontaneous, and showing him she wanted more sexually. That she was open to a whole lot more than sex in the bedroom, and there were fantasies she wouldn’t mind fulfilling with him.
She kissed him back just as passionately, feeling the hunger growing in him, the molten need . . . and then, abruptly, he grasped her hair tighter and pulled her head back, ending the kiss. Breathing hard, he stared into her eyes, looking dazed, a little confused, and excruciatingly aroused by her bold and brazen behavior.
“Jillian . . . what the hell are you doing?”
