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“Well, your eagerness completely disarms me, but there’s so much more you need to experience before you get to those positions. Foreplay for one, and the kind I’m talking about isn’t something you can learn from the pages of a book. It takes practice.”
Barclay licks his lips and trails his eyes over my body, making me shift. His smoldering stare awakens an unfamiliar feeling low in my belly. If anyone else gave me this kind of look in the confines of a hotel room, I would run out the door, screaming for help. With Barclay, I want to fling myself into his arms and get lost in his kisses and touch.
“I can’t stop thinking about the things I want to do to you, Tessa. It would blow your sweet mind. What do you want? Tell me,” he gravels in a husky voice.
“I want you, Barclay. Show me all the things. Please,” I beg, like a starving pauper who hasn’t had a meal in days.
Barclay pushes up from the chair, standing tall and stately, adorned in formal attire. His large presence overwhelms the room—and me. My body hums in a delicate balance of nerves and need. Hiding my silly fear, I fold my trembling hands in my lap while my heart races away. I thought I’d be braver than this when the time came to be with someone, but I’m scared shitless.
He takes off his black tuxedo jacket, revealing a fitted dress shirt that sinfully molds to his sculpted muscles. I swallow hard and lick my lips. After carefully laying his jacket down on the chair, he stalks toward me in a couple long strides.
When Barclay stops in front of me, I lift my chin to gaze up at his handsome face. A cocky smile pulls at the corner of his lips. Watching in heated anticipation, his long fingers tug at his black bowtie, releasing the knot and letting the loose ends lie against his crisp white shirt. Next, he frees the gold cuff links from his starched cuffed sleeves, placing them down on the nightstand with a clink. When he untucks the shirttails from his black pants, I realize he’s undressing himself. In. My. Room.
Does he want me to do the same thing?
“Where has the young woman who reads scandalous books gone? You’re all wide-eyed and timid now.” Barclay gently brushes my cheek with his finger, and I lean into his reassuring touch. “Your mind’s spinning away behind those gorgeous blue eyes.”
“The truth is …” I pause, and glance away, trying to build up the courage to speak what’s in my heart. After a beat, I return to his darkened gaze once again. “I’ve been waiting for years to have a moment like this, yet I have no idea what to do or what you want. I thought reading books like that would make me brave, but I didn’t even change into the lingerie you bought me. Basically, I have no game. I must be a big disappointment.”
“Sweet, beautiful girl.” Barclay sits down beside me on the bed, taking my hand in his large one. “Take a deep breath and trust me. Can you do that?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.” I fill my lungs and exhale slowly, feeling more relaxed already. He nods in approval.
“Unbutton my shirt, Tessa.” His lips brush over my knuckles in the sweetest touch before he releases them.
After another deep breath and an internal pep talk, my fumbling fingers move from button to button, undoing them. Finally, the edges of his shirt are open wide, revealing defined ridges and golden skin. He’s all man and muscle, and more gorgeous than I could have imagined.
Barclay encircles one of my hands and lays it against his chest over his heart. He’s warm and solid. I feel the steady beat under my palm.
In tentative motions, I rub my fingers over the manly scattering of hair that starts just above his breastbone. It narrows down in a straight line, disappearing under the waistband of his pants. His breathing picks up, and he utters a soft moan, making me emboldened knowing my touch is having an effect on him. I look up into his hooded gaze.
“There’s something I’ve been dying to do all night.” He sweeps my hair to the side, and with a ghost of a touch, kisses along the top of my shoulder, trailing to the back of my neck. I can’t stop from shivering as my skin ignites with goose bumps. His lips graze the area behind my ear as his fingers toy with the hook of my halter strap. “May I undo your dress?”
“Yes,” I whisper, holding a breath. I have nothing on underneath except delicate silk lace panties, so I’ll be exposed with one flick of his wrist.
When he releases the hook, gravity pulls my dress downward. I try to catch it before it falls, but Barclay encircles my wrists, stopping them midair. I feel the dress fall into my lap and close my eyes tightly, hiding myself away.
