I gasped, the sound both pleasure and surprise, and when Tyler smiled, I knew that I had lost this round.
“There’s another rule you broke,” he said. “Don’t lie to me about what you want. About what makes you hot.”
“I didn’t—I’ve never—”
“Maybe not. But you know you’d like it. You may not have been spanked yet, but I see the flush on your skin, the way your nipples are straining against your dress. You can imagine the sting, then the warmth after. You can almost feel the heat spreading through you. The way your body clenches with desire. You can imagine being naked across my lap, not knowing if I’m going to spank you or fuck you, but simply desperate for my touch.”
He paused, and I gulped in air, realizing with some surprise that I’d forgotten to breathe. “Jesus,” I murmured.
“Tell me I’m right. Tell me you want that.”
“Yes,” I whispered, because how could I lie when he’d already seen the truth?
“Then you’ll have it. But not now. Now, you’re going to strip.” He pulled the folded napkin with my note out of his pocket. “You said you wanted to play.”
“I did. I do. But I also expected you to keep your promises.”
He lifted a brow. “I see. And what promise have I broken?”
“In the corridor. You said you were going to strip me naked.” Desire cut across his face, and I took a step toward him, emboldened by victory. “You said you were going to stretch me out,” I said, as my blood burned with the memory of his words. “You said you were going to taste every delicious inch of me.”
I was right in front of him now, my head tilted up to see his face. His hands were in his trouser pockets, and he still wore the suit. He looked commanding and powerful and incredibly sexy, and I craved his hands upon me.
His eyes locked on mine, full of heat and power, and I drew in a breath, certain that he was just as turned on as I was. “I have a very good memory,” I added.
He cocked his head in acknowledgment. “So I see. And you’re right. I said all of those things. I meant all of them. And I’m looking forward to doing exactly that. But first,” he added, in a voice that broached no argument, “I’ll watch you strip for me.”
“I—”
“I want to see you,” he interrupted. “Want to see you so much I can barely breathe.” He moved across the room to a floor lamp, then adjusted it so that the beam cut across the room like a spotlight. He nodded at the circle of light on the carpet in front of me, then moved to casually sit in an armchair. “Strip for me, Sloane.”
My breath hitched as my pulse increased. The tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my head seemed to stand up. Electricity fizzed through me. I was scared—as riled and as jacked up as I’d ever been before going through a door. Then, I didn’t know what lay on the other side. Death? Blood?
Now, I knew exactly. There was Tyler. A man who saw more of me than I wanted to expose. And that small truth was both terrifying and oddly comforting.
For a moment, I considered refusing. Telling him that if he wanted me naked he could take care of that himself. But when I looked at his face, the words died on my tongue. He was looking at me with such a mixture of lust and adoration that it seemed to not only fill me but to spur me. It felt like a challenge. Like he was taunting me even as he was worshipping me.
This was the game. And the only way I could win was to watch the flame in his eyes burn even hotter with every bit of flesh that I exposed.
Slowly—so very slowly—I lifted my hands to the back of my neck. My fingers found the ties that held the halter in place, and I pulled at the bow, releasing it. I eased the two sections of material down, slowly revealing the swell of my breasts, the tight brown of my areolae, the hardness of my nipples.
I dropped the material, allowing the halter portion to dangle at my waist. The air felt cool against my heated skin, and my breasts seemed heavier, as if they were begging for the support of his hands.
I heard Tyler’s sharp intake of breath, saw the way he shifted in his chair and the way his fingers tightened on the armrest, as if he was working hard to hold himself back.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered.
“That’s what the guy downstairs said.”
“Shit.” The curse was low, almost inaudible. “I didn’t mean to put that in your head.”
“No … no, it’s just …” I drew in a breath. “He said it and I wanted to bolt. You say it, and—”
“And what?”
“And I want you to touch me.”
His face was cast in shadows, but I could still see the way his features tightened, as if he was putting up a fight. “I will,” he said. “Dear god, I will. But right now, I want to look at you. Go ahead,” he said with a nod. “I want to see every inch of you.”
My body thrummed with nerves and excitement, and my hand shook as I reached behind to the zipper. I tugged it down, then gave the dress the tiniest of shoves. The material spilled off me to pool around my feet, leaving me clad only in the pale pink thong and bright red shoes.
I licked my lips, then met his eyes. Then I carefully stepped out of the dress and stood still again. I was only a few feet closer to him, but the air seemed thicker, full of power and promise.
“Do you have any idea how lovely you are?”
My cheeks warmed from the compliment. I knew I was pretty, some would even say beautiful. But once I decided to become a cop, it wasn’t pretty that mattered, but strong. Now my body was tight and lean. Feminine, yes. But powerful, too.
“I want to see the rest of you,” he said. “Take off the panties. But leave the shoes on.”
I swallowed, strangely shy. I was practically naked already, but there was something about stripping completely except for a pair of high heels that seemed so bold. So decadent.
I looked down, concentrating on the floor as I hooked my fingers in the waistband.
“No,” Tyler said. “Eyes on me.”
“Tyler.”
“Shhh. No arguing. Just do.”
I did. And though I expected to feel even more shy, more exposed, in fact I felt just the opposite. I felt bold. Wild. I saw his desire plainly, and I knew that right then I was the one who held the power.
I was no stranger to power—I wielded it every day in my work. But this was the first time I’d felt truly powerful as a woman.
I liked it.
I let the panties fall with a little hip shimmy, then carefully stepped out of them as well.
“Now that is a pretty picture,” Tyler said, slowly taking me in. His smile twitched when he got to my neatly shaved and trimmed sex. “And you’re a natural redhead.”
“Did you have doubts?”
“Nice to have confirmation. Do you have the temper that goes with it?”
“Cross me and find out.”
“A fiery temper often translates to fire in bed.” He stood, then slowly moved to stand in front of me. “I’m looking forward to finding out if that’s true.”
He reached out then to cup my breasts in his palms. His skin felt hot against mine, and I closed my eyes with a small moan of satisfaction that turned into a gasp as his thumbs flicked over my nipples. Then he released me, and I opened my eyes to see him circling me, his focus so intent that I had the feeling he was memorizing every inch of me.
“There’s another rule you broke,” he said. “Don’t lie to me about what you want. About what makes you hot.”
“I didn’t—I’ve never—”
“Maybe not. But you know you’d like it. You may not have been spanked yet, but I see the flush on your skin, the way your nipples are straining against your dress. You can imagine the sting, then the warmth after. You can almost feel the heat spreading through you. The way your body clenches with desire. You can imagine being naked across my lap, not knowing if I’m going to spank you or fuck you, but simply desperate for my touch.”
He paused, and I gulped in air, realizing with some surprise that I’d forgotten to breathe. “Jesus,” I murmured.
“Tell me I’m right. Tell me you want that.”
“Yes,” I whispered, because how could I lie when he’d already seen the truth?
“Then you’ll have it. But not now. Now, you’re going to strip.” He pulled the folded napkin with my note out of his pocket. “You said you wanted to play.”
“I did. I do. But I also expected you to keep your promises.”
He lifted a brow. “I see. And what promise have I broken?”
“In the corridor. You said you were going to strip me naked.” Desire cut across his face, and I took a step toward him, emboldened by victory. “You said you were going to stretch me out,” I said, as my blood burned with the memory of his words. “You said you were going to taste every delicious inch of me.”
I was right in front of him now, my head tilted up to see his face. His hands were in his trouser pockets, and he still wore the suit. He looked commanding and powerful and incredibly sexy, and I craved his hands upon me.
His eyes locked on mine, full of heat and power, and I drew in a breath, certain that he was just as turned on as I was. “I have a very good memory,” I added.
He cocked his head in acknowledgment. “So I see. And you’re right. I said all of those things. I meant all of them. And I’m looking forward to doing exactly that. But first,” he added, in a voice that broached no argument, “I’ll watch you strip for me.”
“I—”
“I want to see you,” he interrupted. “Want to see you so much I can barely breathe.” He moved across the room to a floor lamp, then adjusted it so that the beam cut across the room like a spotlight. He nodded at the circle of light on the carpet in front of me, then moved to casually sit in an armchair. “Strip for me, Sloane.”
My breath hitched as my pulse increased. The tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my head seemed to stand up. Electricity fizzed through me. I was scared—as riled and as jacked up as I’d ever been before going through a door. Then, I didn’t know what lay on the other side. Death? Blood?
Now, I knew exactly. There was Tyler. A man who saw more of me than I wanted to expose. And that small truth was both terrifying and oddly comforting.
For a moment, I considered refusing. Telling him that if he wanted me naked he could take care of that himself. But when I looked at his face, the words died on my tongue. He was looking at me with such a mixture of lust and adoration that it seemed to not only fill me but to spur me. It felt like a challenge. Like he was taunting me even as he was worshipping me.
This was the game. And the only way I could win was to watch the flame in his eyes burn even hotter with every bit of flesh that I exposed.
Slowly—so very slowly—I lifted my hands to the back of my neck. My fingers found the ties that held the halter in place, and I pulled at the bow, releasing it. I eased the two sections of material down, slowly revealing the swell of my breasts, the tight brown of my areolae, the hardness of my nipples.
I dropped the material, allowing the halter portion to dangle at my waist. The air felt cool against my heated skin, and my breasts seemed heavier, as if they were begging for the support of his hands.
I heard Tyler’s sharp intake of breath, saw the way he shifted in his chair and the way his fingers tightened on the armrest, as if he was working hard to hold himself back.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered.
“That’s what the guy downstairs said.”
“Shit.” The curse was low, almost inaudible. “I didn’t mean to put that in your head.”
“No … no, it’s just …” I drew in a breath. “He said it and I wanted to bolt. You say it, and—”
“And what?”
“And I want you to touch me.”
His face was cast in shadows, but I could still see the way his features tightened, as if he was putting up a fight. “I will,” he said. “Dear god, I will. But right now, I want to look at you. Go ahead,” he said with a nod. “I want to see every inch of you.”
My body thrummed with nerves and excitement, and my hand shook as I reached behind to the zipper. I tugged it down, then gave the dress the tiniest of shoves. The material spilled off me to pool around my feet, leaving me clad only in the pale pink thong and bright red shoes.
I licked my lips, then met his eyes. Then I carefully stepped out of the dress and stood still again. I was only a few feet closer to him, but the air seemed thicker, full of power and promise.
“Do you have any idea how lovely you are?”
My cheeks warmed from the compliment. I knew I was pretty, some would even say beautiful. But once I decided to become a cop, it wasn’t pretty that mattered, but strong. Now my body was tight and lean. Feminine, yes. But powerful, too.
“I want to see the rest of you,” he said. “Take off the panties. But leave the shoes on.”
I swallowed, strangely shy. I was practically naked already, but there was something about stripping completely except for a pair of high heels that seemed so bold. So decadent.
I looked down, concentrating on the floor as I hooked my fingers in the waistband.
“No,” Tyler said. “Eyes on me.”
“Tyler.”
“Shhh. No arguing. Just do.”
I did. And though I expected to feel even more shy, more exposed, in fact I felt just the opposite. I felt bold. Wild. I saw his desire plainly, and I knew that right then I was the one who held the power.
I was no stranger to power—I wielded it every day in my work. But this was the first time I’d felt truly powerful as a woman.
I liked it.
I let the panties fall with a little hip shimmy, then carefully stepped out of them as well.
“Now that is a pretty picture,” Tyler said, slowly taking me in. His smile twitched when he got to my neatly shaved and trimmed sex. “And you’re a natural redhead.”
“Did you have doubts?”
“Nice to have confirmation. Do you have the temper that goes with it?”
“Cross me and find out.”
“A fiery temper often translates to fire in bed.” He stood, then slowly moved to stand in front of me. “I’m looking forward to finding out if that’s true.”
He reached out then to cup my breasts in his palms. His skin felt hot against mine, and I closed my eyes with a small moan of satisfaction that turned into a gasp as his thumbs flicked over my nipples. Then he released me, and I opened my eyes to see him circling me, his focus so intent that I had the feeling he was memorizing every inch of me.
