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“But the necklace—”
“I’m supposed to be watching the necklace,” he said. “If you’re in the same place, I can watch you, too.”
He pulled out his phone and made sure anyone who happened to check the security feed tonight would only see what he wanted them to see. He’d set the hack up earlier, but if he was going to be getting Ana naked, he wanted to be doubly sure they’d be completely alone.
He led her from the main gallery to a smaller one off to the side. This particular gallery was being refurbished and hadn’t been open for the party tonight. The museum director had told Jake it would be the most comfortable place to spend the night. There was probably art on the walls, and more money’s worth of jewelry in this room than Jake would ever see in his life, but he didn’t spare a glance. The woman next to him completely captivated him.
He stopped her under one of the few spotlights that lit the room. At one time there had probably been a display of some kind in this spot, but Jake couldn’t imagine anything more stunning than Ana.
“Take off your dress,” he said.
For a moment he wondered if she would listen. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to or not. He didn’t mind doling out a little bit of light punishment. He’d love to redden that tight ass with his hand and—he looked down at his own clothes—he didn’t like this tie. He’d gladly ruin it to tie her up.
Eventually, though, she turned her back to him.
“Could you help me with the top hook, please. I needed help getting it clasped.”
He walked over and unhooked the eye clasp.
“Who helped you get dressed?”
He didn’t realize how sharp his words came out until she looked over her shoulder at him, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised, the unasked Jealous? clear in her gaze.
“My neighbor helped me,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Boyfriend?” he asked, stepping away from her.
He wanted her with a ferocity that scared him, but if she had a boyfriend, well, he wasn’t going to poach on another man’s turf.
“Roger’s an amazing guy,” she said. “But I think his husband might have a problem if we started dating.”
She was going to be cheeky, was she?
He looked forward to making her sorry for her smart mouth.
“Your dress is still on.”
The teasing sparkle in her eyes turned him on as much as the lowering of the zipper. The dress parted, showing off the bare skin of her back. He swallowed the lump in his throat. The zipper ended as her ass started to curve. She put her arms straight by her sides and the dress fell to the floor with a whoosh of fabric.
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Her panties were sinful and Jake wondered if there was some rule as to how much fabric there actually had to be in order to be considered panties. If there was a rule, these most definitely broke it. A thin strip of ribbon bisected the luscious globes of her ass. Her skin tone was perfect. It’d redden beautifully under his hand as he fucked her. Nothing marred the smooth skin of her back.
“Princess, if I knew you were wearing this little under your dress, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to wait until the party ended.”
She laughed softly, she didn’t giggle like many of the other society women he’d met over the years. Her laugh was low and husky. She spun on those preposterously high heels and faced him, hands on her hips.
She knew exactly how good she looked.
Her tits were even more amazing than he’d imagined. And he’d started imagining them shortly after puberty. She’d been a late bloomer, but when she finally bloomed, she’d done so beautifully. Her tits were full, plump, but still perky. Her nipples reminded him of strawberries just ripening in the spring, and were already straining toward him.
He fisted his hands, forcing himself to take her all in. He’d touch soon enough.
“Are you going to undress now, too? Or just stare at me?”
“I’m going to do a lot more than stare at you before I’m ready to get naked.” He crossed the room to where he’d seen an A-frame ladder he assumed was for installation purposes. He took off his suit jacket and hung it over a rung, then removed his gun and holster, wondering if it’d be the last time he’d ever have to wear his weapon. He might miss its comforting weight—he’d gotten used to it over the years—but he wouldn’t miss anything it stood for.
He loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves while walking back over to where she still stood bathed in the spotlight. Wearing nothing but those barely there panties and fuck-me shoes, she was a wet dream come to life.
