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He let her keep leading the pace and their movements. Jonas Meyer, who would recoil in horror if he saw the closet she slept in as a child, the neighborhood she grew up in. This man, who had all the power associated with his wealth, breeding and connections, was leaving little Brooklyn Allie in control.
Very gradually, she started to rock back and forth over the thin fabric of his shorts, continuing to explore his mouth, without kissing him full-on or deeply. Always hold something back.
Jonas inhaled through his teeth, gripped her hips and helped her along. Allie let her head drop back, riding him, eyes still closed, taking her pleasure from rubbing her clitoris against his hard length through the soft, slippery silk, bringing her close to coming in only a few minutes.
“Allie.” He bent forward and murmured against her throat. “You’re making me crazy.”
You’re making me crazy, too.
She had to work harder and harder to appear calm. Her breath caught in little gasps and her thighs began to tremble. She was going to come before he did. Not the plan. Not what was supposed to—
To hell with the plan.
Her orgasm came on slowly, gaining intensity. She gasped openly now, caught up in the intense pleasure, no longer caring if she appeared desperate, rubbing herself back and forth over his erection until her body gathered itself powerfully and she gave in to the rush, suspended in ecstasy that made her bite back a cry, opening her eyes wide, vaginal muscles contracting over and over, pleasure still pulsing intensely.
Jonas let out a curse, pushed against her once, twice, and then gave a low shout. She watched him coming, his eyes closed, mouth half-open in ecstasy, muscles straining.
Then he opened those startlingly blue eyes and they stared at each other in awe for several seconds, breathing hard. Just as she was mortified to find herself about to giggle, he started laughing, too, and the atmosphere became as relaxed and innocently giddy as it had been intensely sexual seconds before.
“Look what you did to me.” He gestured down at his stained shorts, still grinning. “I haven’t come in my pants since I was a teenager. It’s embarrassing.”
“No, no, it’s not at all. It’s completely fine.” She lifted herself off him, her legs unsteady, and stood, unable to stop beaming. Mission accomplished. The seduction had been perfect. She’d never felt so on top of the world in her life. “No apologies.”
“Allie.” He caught her hand, chuckled again. “That was incredible. In our culture, with all the sex around us, we’ve lost the art and sexiness of subtlety. Thank you for that.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She smiled down at him. Around them the sky was darkening, the breeze subsiding to an occasional caress. “I did, too.”
Jonas’s wide smile faded. He stood, leaned down and touched his lips to hers, then kissed her lingeringly, putting his hand to the side of her face as if she were something precious. “I’ll be right back.”
Allie stepped back, nodding. Her throat had gone thick; she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak. Turning, she grasped the deck railing and stared out at the lake, deep navy in the twilight, and told herself to get a grip, not to ruin a pure sexual encounter with any silly mooning. She’d just accept the emotion for what it was—inappropriate romanticism—and quietly put it away.
The temperature had dropped some, but not enough to explain her sudden need to cover up again. She pulled the dress back over her head, feeling warmer, yes, but also safer, once more cool and confident. When Jonas came back out in clean shorts, carrying two blankets, she was even able to smile brightly.
“You sleeping under the stars tonight?”
“Want to join me?”
Sleeping in his arms all night out on the beach? She’d wake up stiff, cold and even more infatuated. “I don’t think so, but thanks.”
He nodded as if he’d been expecting her refusal. “Don’t want to give away the farm?”
She laughed, relieved and touched by his easy acceptance. “That’s what Josephine would say.”
“Would you like to lie on the beach for just a while to watch the stars that we won’t be sleeping under?”
“I’d love that.”
“Good.” He handed her a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. “I brought these if you’d like to rejoin our not-so-stylish but machine-washable century.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” She took the clothes from him. “I’ll change in the house.”
Immediately, she felt like an idiot. They’d just gone crazy on each other, and she was modest now?
“No, no, stay here. I’ll take the blankets down to the beach. I promise, no peeking.” He hoisted the blankets and stepped off the deck. “Maybe.”
