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She bustled back into the bathroom before he could make the suggestion, so he contented himself with checking out her place instead.
It was small, the furnishings eclectic—from the hula-girl lamp sitting on a glass-topped table in the shape of a giant shoe to the curtain made of red crystals that bisected the living room from the dining room. Red was a common theme. The walls were red, the curtains were red. He half expected to smell incense when he took a deep breath, but no, there was just Paige’s arousing jasmine scent.
“I know it’s not much.” She laid a hand on the long, low couch that appeared to have been covered in denim. Actual denim. “I funnel all my funds back into the store. We’re hoping to expand in the next few years.”
“Oh really? Are you going to renovate the current store or do you mean add on additional locations?”
“Both, actually, if we can get the loans we’re hoping for.”
While Drake and Paige chitchatted about business, Colt wandered around her space. An old-fashioned record player with a horn and a rack of dusty records caught his eye. He grabbed the first one and set it to play.
Conversation ground to a halt as the scratchy sounds of Frank Sinatra filled the room. This was the second time he’d heard Frank tonight. His mother would’ve approved. From the hiss and crackle as the album circled the turntable, this record had obviously been well-loved.
“Wow.” Paige’s boisterous laugh spilled out. “You looking for a seduction, Mr. Bennett? I thought we were just banging the drum tonight.”
Her sly words teased out the dominant side of his nature that was never too far away. He strode toward her and slid his hand into her hair, drawing her up on her tiptoes so that she swayed against him. “What’d I say about you calling me Mr. Bennett?”
She caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “I don’t remember.”
“Keep it up and the next time you say it, I’ll put you on your knees.”
He waited for her to balk or worse yet, for apprehension to slip into her wide, guileless eyes. Her every emotion telegraphed across her face, and right now, he had no problem interpreting her feelings.
What he’d said made her hot.
If he hadn’t been fairly certain of that, the way she dropped to her knees without another word proved it. She reached for his belt, pulling it free from the loops with a speed he appreciated since there was suddenly a critical situation beneath his waist. She eased down his pants and boxer briefs in one smooth motion and let out a little gasp that made him grin as he glanced at Drake.
Until he saw Drake’s attention was located in the exact same spot.
“You rushing things, sweetheart?” His best friend stepped behind her and gathered her long red waves in his hands, holding them back from her face.
She glanced up at Colt from beneath her lashes. “Is that a problem?”
Her submissive tack here behind closed doors was a revelation, because she sure as hell had a firm command on her business. She took no guff from anyone during work hours, and Colt had to admit a forbidden thrill skated up his spine at seeing little miss prim Paige kneeling before him, waiting for his cock.
Her big blue eyes begging for it.
“No problem here.” Colt rubbed his finger over her lower lip, loving how she instinctively opened up for him and waited for what he wanted her to do. A rhythm like that could take months to develop, and here she was slipping right into the groove. “Wrap your hand around my cock. Slow and easy.”
She did as she asked, her pupils flaring as she stretched her fingers to grip as much of him as she could. His hand fell away from her face, moving to her shoulder to tug down the bodice of her blue bridesmaid dress. He needed to see her bare breasts, needed to feel them cushioning his dick as she curled those pretty rosy red lips around his shaft. But he couldn’t get the stupid dress down, and she’d already moved forward without further instruction to lap the tip of his erection. At first he thought she was hesitant, then he saw the playful gleam in her eyes. The vixen wanted to torture him.
Well, she wouldn’t be on her own there.
“Need some help?”
Before he could answer his best friend, Drake lowered the zipper on the back of Paige’s dress, the sound loud in the room in spite of the music. He wasted no time grabbing her wrists and tugging them to her sides so he could pull the dress down to her waist. She faltered for a second then resumed licking Colt’s dick without the use of her hands, her technique as delicate as a prom-night virgin’s.
“Take off her bra too,” Colt i
nstructed, his length hardening further at the telltale rasp of her bra clasp coming apart. The lacy cups fell forward, the straps sliding down the arms she still held at her sides. The material caught on her large breasts until Drake thumbed it free.
“Jesus,” he and Drake muttered at the same time. Her breasts were fucking perfect.
He’d already known she had curves for days, but he’d never imagined they’d be this ripe and full. Her pink nipples were already distended, and Drake fell to his knees at her side to assist her with that issue. She cried out as soon as his lips closed around one, but her lips, now shyly circling the head of Colt’s cock, never let up on their slick advance and retreat.
“That all you can do, darlin’?” Colt grated out, slipping his hands into her hair. He scattered pins and tugged out the ribbon, desperate to feel the miles of curls spilling into his hands while he fucked her mouth.
She took a little more of him inside and lifted one hand to probe between his legs. A fingernail circled his balls and he hissed, shocked to find himself on the verge already.
