Full Contact (Redemption #3)(73)
“So this is where you bring women to seduce them.” I sip my drink and wander through the dining area, trailing my fingers over the smooth wooden table. “Ply them with alcohol and then what?”
He studies me, his gaze focused, intent. “Never brought a woman here. Take off your shirt.”
“Why?”
A slow, sensual smile spreads across his face. “I wanna pour vodka all over you and lick it off.”
I stare at him for a moment as my brain tries to sort that one into a “known sexual practices” box. Failing miserably, it shoots out a “strip” command and I whip my T-shirt over my head. “I thought we were going to do, you know, something else that involved a certain item of furniture.”
“Can’t do something else with your clothes on.”
Cool air brushes over my skin, tightening my nipples, and I head over to the shelves inset in the brick wall, ostensibly to check them out, but really to put some space between us and calm my thudding heart. “Well…good to know you aren’t wasting time with social pleasantries. See a girl you like, invite her home, then tell her to take off her clothes so you can get down to business. Very romantic.”
“Not big on romance when I finally got you where I want you. Take off your bra.” He takes a few steps toward me, and I retreat to the far end of the room. A warning niggle at the back of my mind suggests he’s doing what predators do, forcing me to retreat until I am trapped with no hope of escape.
Heart thudding against my ribs, I slip off my bra. My nipples peak under his heated gaze, and I scramble for a neutral topic of conversation when he takes another step toward me.
“Lots of interesting furniture here. Where’s it from?”
“China and Thailand, mostly.” He puts down his glass and strips off his shirt, baring his chest for my viewing pleasure. “Took a leave of absence after Lisa died and did some traveling. Lived with some monks in Thailand and learned about balance and harmony, finding peace when the world is f*cked up and you’re messed up inside. Take off your skirt.”
“Do you have a better seduction technique when you’re not in your apartment?” I feign an exasperated sigh as I remove the offending article of clothing. “Something more subtle than ‘take off your shirt’ or ‘take off your skirt’?”
“Not for you, ’cause all I can think about is getting you naked. Take off your panties.”
Ray is standing on the threshold of the living room, blocking my only exit unless I want to crash through the glass doors I am now pressed up against and hurl myself off the patio. For a brief moment, I wonder if he wants to have sex against the glass, where everyone can see. Too bad I took off the skirt. Smushed ass is so not a good look.
“I see someone has no restraint.” My lips twitch, and I try to douse my inner fire with the combination of vodka and the cool glass door behind me. But it doesn’t work. Need burns through my veins. Tension electrifies the air between us.
“Oh, I got restraint.” He leans against one of the wooden support pillars, his gaze locked on me as I shimmy out of my panties. “I’m just choosing not to exercise it right now.”
“What happened to the whole peace and harmony thing?”
“I never said I was good at it.”
His deadpan statement makes me laugh and my tension eases. “Can I have more vodka?” I brave the distance between us, stopping when I am near enough to feel his heat.
Ray looks down at his empty glass and makes a move as if to head back to the kitchen, but before he can go, I place my hands on his shoulders and rock up to lick his lips. “Like this.”
My touch sets him off—the Predator unleashed. Heedless of the shot glass falling to the ground, he cups my face between his hands and kisses me so hard, so long, so deep that I fear he has forgotten I need to breathe.
“Bed?”
Releasing me, he smooths his hands down my back to cup my ass. “Gotta get you ready first.”
My lower half tightens. “Naked isn’t enough?”
His breath is warm and moist in my ear as he follows my curves up my body, his thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts. “Not even close.”
“The necklace?” I touch the amber pendant, now hanging between my breasts. “Should I take it off too?”
“Never.” He positions me at the edge of his beautiful, polished wood table facing into the room and eases me back until I am lying on the cool surface. The chandelier swings lazily overhead, the crystals tinkling with the slight tremors of the building. I cringe at the thought of marring the perfect surface of the table with my naked body, but when Ray presses up against me, the ridge of his erection beneath his jeans rough on my folds, I imagine other terrible things that could be done on the surface of the table, and my mouth waters.
“Knees bent. Legs apart. Feet at the edge of the table.” He stands in front of me, watching, as I follow his commands.
“Like this?”
He nods his satisfaction and eases himself between my legs. “Rules. First, that thing where your heart tries to beat out of your f*cking chest and you can’t breathe—”
“Panic attack.”
Ray’s eyes narrow. “Not happening again.”
My lips quiver with repressed amusement. “I’ll let my sympathetic nervous system know.”