He stopped her hand. “I’ll do that. I’ve played this film in my head a thousand times the last few weeks.” He slid the second button free, then the third, his slender fingers deft and quick. After he opened the fourth button, he unclasped the hook on her waistband, slid the zipper down, freed her blouse tails from her slacks, and slowly opened the plain white linen as if he were unveiling the Venus de Milo, the Mona Lisa, and all the wonders of the world.
He softly exhaled as her pale flesh was fully revealed—remembering how her skin felt, the silken warmth, the softness; how she always responded to his touch with eagerness, wild for sensation—for him. The déjà vu triggers were almost overwhelming. He sucked in a shaky breath.
“Are you remembering?” she whispered, as though she could read his mind, as though they were watching the same movie, listening to the same song.
He looked up and nodded. “I’ve replayed every breath, every heartbeat, every good thing that happened to us.”
“Along with every mind-blowing orgasm,” she said with a small smile.
“Oh, yeah, those most of all. So you’re not going anywhere this time.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Fucking A. Hell can do without me for a while. And I’m going to make you feel so good you won’t even think about leaving.”
“What if I have to work?”
“You don’t have to work.”
“What if I want to work?”
“Then I’ll see what I can do about working you,” he said with a grin.
“Sex fiend.”
“Uh-uh. I’m just trying to keep up, babe. You’re the one who sets the wicked pace.”
“I hope you’re not looking for an apology.”
“No way. I’m thanking my lucky stars you fell into my life. And now that you have, I’m locking the door behind you.”
“So I’m your captive?”
“Something like that. You’re also the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time and I’m not stupid enough to let you go.”
“What if I want to go?”
He smiled. “Then I wouldn’t be doing my job.” His smile faded. “Look, if and when that happens, we’ll talk about it.”
She sniffed. “You’re impossible. But I want you anyway.”
“Good, because this is new times, better times, baby. We’re not going to screw this one up. So let’s see what we can do about making each other feel good for the foreseeable future. Okay?” He smiled. “Gimme a yes.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling back.
He grinned. “There you go, baby. You’re playin’ my song.”
He slid the blouse off her shoulders, down her arms, over her hands, then pulled it aside and let it drop from his fingers. “Now what do we have here?” he whispered.
His erection answered first, surging higher.
She took notice. “He likes me,” she murmured.
He held her gaze, his flame-hot. “He’s missed you—and these,” he murmured, sliding a fingertip over the pale swell of her breasts. Her sumptuous tits were more beautiful than he’d remembered, ripe, plump, her nipples already hard and peaked, waiting to be kissed. He gently touched one taut crest then the other, the pad of his finger feather light—a grazing caress, delicate.
Riveting. She sucked in a breath, moaned, spiking pleasure melting downward in a warm, blissful flood.
He was instantly overcome with jealousy at the familiar sound, at her hair-trigger arousal, at her lack of restraint. “No one’s seen these since Hong Kong—right?” His dark brows were angled in a frown. “Humor me, baby. This is a whole new world for me.”
“I should say no,” she whispered, wishing that in the past month some other man could have made her feel this explosive lust and free her from her inconvenient, burning desire for the elusive Dominic Knight.
His anger instantly drained away, his gut-tightening jealousy faded. “No you shouldn’t,” he said gently, his fingertip gossamer light on her nipple. “Because I want these to be mine.” Then he cupped her chin and raised her face so their eyes met, so he saw her smoldering desire and she his unflinching resolve. “Tell me they’re mine,” he said quietly. “And I’ll let you come.”
“Sorry, too late.” Her green gaze was playful, the flush of arousal pinking her skin. “I don’t think I actually need you.”
He laughed. “Goddamn, I’ve missed you, baby. But…” he softly said, bending his head, giving her a quick glance from under his lashes, “maybe I can change your mind.” His mouth closed gently over the tender tip of her nipple and he set about showing her who needed whom.
As the warmth of his mouth drew in her nipple, she felt her body open in welcome, as though he had only to make that first small overture, delicately touch her sensitive crest with the tip of his tongue, and every combustible sexual nerve she possessed instantly ignited. It was one of his many accomplishments—his incredible tactile finesse. And if she weren’t feeling the delicious heat sliding downward from his mouth to her quivering, throbbing sex, she might take issue and allow her jealousy full rein.
But he was nibbling now, his teeth leaving little jolts in their wake that tingled at first, then stung, then ravished her senses and stole her reason and reminded her of the nipple clips in Hong Kong so violently that she cried out in a frenzy of need.
He softly exhaled as her pale flesh was fully revealed—remembering how her skin felt, the silken warmth, the softness; how she always responded to his touch with eagerness, wild for sensation—for him. The déjà vu triggers were almost overwhelming. He sucked in a shaky breath.
“Are you remembering?” she whispered, as though she could read his mind, as though they were watching the same movie, listening to the same song.
He looked up and nodded. “I’ve replayed every breath, every heartbeat, every good thing that happened to us.”
“Along with every mind-blowing orgasm,” she said with a small smile.
“Oh, yeah, those most of all. So you’re not going anywhere this time.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Fucking A. Hell can do without me for a while. And I’m going to make you feel so good you won’t even think about leaving.”
“What if I have to work?”
“You don’t have to work.”
“What if I want to work?”
“Then I’ll see what I can do about working you,” he said with a grin.
“Sex fiend.”
“Uh-uh. I’m just trying to keep up, babe. You’re the one who sets the wicked pace.”
“I hope you’re not looking for an apology.”
“No way. I’m thanking my lucky stars you fell into my life. And now that you have, I’m locking the door behind you.”
“So I’m your captive?”
“Something like that. You’re also the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time and I’m not stupid enough to let you go.”
“What if I want to go?”
He smiled. “Then I wouldn’t be doing my job.” His smile faded. “Look, if and when that happens, we’ll talk about it.”
She sniffed. “You’re impossible. But I want you anyway.”
“Good, because this is new times, better times, baby. We’re not going to screw this one up. So let’s see what we can do about making each other feel good for the foreseeable future. Okay?” He smiled. “Gimme a yes.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling back.
He grinned. “There you go, baby. You’re playin’ my song.”
He slid the blouse off her shoulders, down her arms, over her hands, then pulled it aside and let it drop from his fingers. “Now what do we have here?” he whispered.
His erection answered first, surging higher.
She took notice. “He likes me,” she murmured.
He held her gaze, his flame-hot. “He’s missed you—and these,” he murmured, sliding a fingertip over the pale swell of her breasts. Her sumptuous tits were more beautiful than he’d remembered, ripe, plump, her nipples already hard and peaked, waiting to be kissed. He gently touched one taut crest then the other, the pad of his finger feather light—a grazing caress, delicate.
Riveting. She sucked in a breath, moaned, spiking pleasure melting downward in a warm, blissful flood.
He was instantly overcome with jealousy at the familiar sound, at her hair-trigger arousal, at her lack of restraint. “No one’s seen these since Hong Kong—right?” His dark brows were angled in a frown. “Humor me, baby. This is a whole new world for me.”
“I should say no,” she whispered, wishing that in the past month some other man could have made her feel this explosive lust and free her from her inconvenient, burning desire for the elusive Dominic Knight.
His anger instantly drained away, his gut-tightening jealousy faded. “No you shouldn’t,” he said gently, his fingertip gossamer light on her nipple. “Because I want these to be mine.” Then he cupped her chin and raised her face so their eyes met, so he saw her smoldering desire and she his unflinching resolve. “Tell me they’re mine,” he said quietly. “And I’ll let you come.”
“Sorry, too late.” Her green gaze was playful, the flush of arousal pinking her skin. “I don’t think I actually need you.”
He laughed. “Goddamn, I’ve missed you, baby. But…” he softly said, bending his head, giving her a quick glance from under his lashes, “maybe I can change your mind.” His mouth closed gently over the tender tip of her nipple and he set about showing her who needed whom.
As the warmth of his mouth drew in her nipple, she felt her body open in welcome, as though he had only to make that first small overture, delicately touch her sensitive crest with the tip of his tongue, and every combustible sexual nerve she possessed instantly ignited. It was one of his many accomplishments—his incredible tactile finesse. And if she weren’t feeling the delicious heat sliding downward from his mouth to her quivering, throbbing sex, she might take issue and allow her jealousy full rein.
But he was nibbling now, his teeth leaving little jolts in their wake that tingled at first, then stung, then ravished her senses and stole her reason and reminded her of the nipple clips in Hong Kong so violently that she cried out in a frenzy of need.
