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This again? “I haven’t.”
“You bribed me with shoes.”
“I gifted you with shoes. They weren’t a bribe.”
She puts her feet on the rug and sits up. Her dark, almost black, hair ruffles around her shoulders, having lost some of its bounce. It doesn’t take away from how beautiful she is. She let her guard down for a moment, but now it’s up again. As if she’s back on the clock. As if she’s trained herself to look and behave a certain way. I don’t like her buttoned-up. I want her wild.
“Shoes you should have worn instead of those,” I tell her as she flexes her toes in the deep-pile rug.
“I didn’t want you to know how much I liked them.” She turns her head to regard me over her shoulder. I can’t resist her delicate expression or the unexpected honesty that arrived with it.
“Admitting how much you like me seems equally difficult.”
“What makes you think I like you?” she purrs. Her eyes grow darker as she tilts her head.
“Hell, I don’t care if you do,” I lie. I like people to like me. It helps me sleep at night. “But I won’t deny wanting another taste of your lips.” I lift her hand and tug. She comes closer, and before I know it her lips land on mine.
That wasn’t difficult to orchestrate.
She allows me to take her other hand, but before I have a chance to pick my next move, she’s leaning against me, her breasts on my chest.
Clothing has never been more inconvenient.
“Sleeping with me won’t give you an inch at the bureau,” she informs me while unknotting my tie.
“Ironically, sleeping with me will give you more inches than you can handle.” I grin when she laughs. She has a nice laugh.
“Oh, I can handle your inches.” She undoes my shirt buttons, her attention on her work. “I don’t see the point in resisting you.”
“I know just what you mean.” The silken strands of her hair run over my fingers like water. When her lips hit my bare chest, I suck in a breath and shove my other hand into her hair. I’m holding her head while she licks a trail down my chest. The wet heat from her kisses sending me on an erotic roller coaster ride.
Tempting as this is, no way is she blowing me before I have her naked.
I unzip the back of her dress, and her face lifts to meet mine. This time when I kiss her, I pull the bodice of the dress down and cup her generous breasts. Her black lace bra costs more than her dress and shoes combined, I’d bet my bank account on it. I’ve purchased this brand for women before—it’s luxury. I know how to treat a woman and how to give a gift that will land me in her good graces…and between my bedsheets.
I unclasp the bra and slip the straps off her shoulders, then slide them from her arms. When her breasts are released to my capable hands, I suck in a breath of pure need.
They’re gorgeous. Heavy C-cups with nipples the color of the peach rosebud she was touching in the garden tonight. I touch them with the same reverence, watching her cheeks stain pink and her lips part. When I tug those tender buds and pinch lightly, her breathing takes on a hectic pattern.
Her fingers busy themselves undoing my belt as I continue my leisurely play. When she puts her hand into my pants and cups my erection through my boxer briefs, I let out a hiss.
“Well, well,” she says. “Big everywhere.”
“I promised you inches.”
“So you did.”
She stands, robbing me of her touch and her breasts, and drops her dress on the floor. Her lace panties are part of a matching set. I cradle her ass and place my mouth over the cotton panel covering her pussy, inhale the intoxicating vanilla musk scent clinging to her skin. Massaging her butt cheeks, I bite the material before clutching it with both hands and yanking it down.
She’s bared before me. A beautiful sight. I slide my tongue between her folds to taste the heart of her. Craning my head I look up to find her pink cheeks brightening, her peach-colored nipples tightening. Her hands are in my hair, pulling hard, so I do my job and I do it well.
When I find her clit, I zero in on the spot. I hold her hips steady but bring her as close as I can to my seeking tongue. Boldly, she lifts one leg and rests her foot on the couch while riding my face. I was right. She needs this.
I slow my ministrations to test her reaction. She tugs my hair harder.
“Tell me,” I murmur, her dampness on my lips.
“I’m close,” she pants. “Please don’t stop.”
