The Espionage Effect(29)
“This is your vacation fantasy. Tonight is about what you want.”
I blinked. Truly? This larger than life man was willing to alter his pattern for my benefit? And although I’d hardly established a pattern with the three paltry sexual encounters I’d had, condoms had been used every time. What would it feel like?
My rebellious side won out. “No condoms.”
He glanced at the dark wooden shutters, then back at me. “Open.”
I’d existed in darkness all my life. And although night had fallen, the sky nearly black, some illumination still made it through to guide our way.
And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? No matter how dark my world got, nor how comfortable I made myself with the cold shadows, the anger—the hatred of my lot in life—I still welcomed a degree of light. In fact, the contrast of the two had always drawn my attention.
He opened one of the complimentary bottles of water that sat on the corner of the desk and handed it to me. Suddenly parched, I gulped down half of it before handing it back to him.
He drank a few swallows, then put it down. “Just to clarify, this is a one-time thing.”
I hadn’t expected much. Didn’t have a problem with his rule, understood it with his line of work. “Agreed.”
He closed the miniscule distance between us, stopping two feet away.
“Take off your dress.” His voice dropped low, the words measured.
Nothing in me questioned, only obeyed. I slid my fingertips downward over the silken fabric and bent forward, causing my arms to pull inward and press my breasts together. He stared with rapt attention as I grasped the material just above the hem at midthigh, slowly lifted it up, then dragged it over my head. By the time the dress cleared my face, providing an unimpeded view of him again, he’d already removed his T-shirt.
His scorching gaze landed on my breasts which were hidden by the black lace of my bra. With every deep inhalation, I grew more aware of them, heavy and aching under his scrutiny. My nipples drew tight, peaking to attention for him.
Trying to calm my breaths, my gaze traveled down his sculpted chest, taking note of the faint spiral scars in the dim light and the thin dusting of hair that trailed downward in a line from his navel until it disappeared beneath the cargos that hung low on his hips. I reached a finger out, touched his heated skin just above his left hip, then traced the defined line of his oblique in an angle downward until my fingertip tucked under the rough twill material.
The right corner of my mouth kicked up. “Pants. Off.”
He arched a dark brow. “You. First.”
Power.
Control.
Clear and blurred. Defined, yet uncaged. We each had it, yet granted the other a slight measure of leeway in our erotic tug-of-war. Tension pulsed electric between us in the decadent give-and-take we slowly unfurled.
Defiance sparked through me, and I gave him a slow headshake. “No.” Then I eased a bare foot back and climbed the cool tiled steps that led from the sitting area, one then the other, before inching farther back into the room toward the bed. He followed, watching my every move with unchecked hunger. Eventually, his hands moved forward and he unfastened his belt, then unzipped his pants.
Standing only in my matching bra and tiny scrap of a thong, I slid my hands over my hips and slipped a finger under each lacy thong strap. Taunting him while testing my own courage, I ran my fingers under the thin material, tugging it down a few inches, but no more.
As he watched, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and lifted his leg, climbing one step. After he cleared the second step, he slid them over his lean hips, down powerful thighs, and then dropped them.
My gaze held his the whole time, until I finally got brave enough to let it drift lower. He spread his legs, standing in a casual but confident stance, awaiting my inspection.
Yeah, he passed. Semihard, his gorgeous penis hung heavy between his legs, thick and long and curving slightly to the left.
I swallowed hard. Now what? I understood the mechanics. Had run through them before. But tonight promised to be different. Was supposed to be out of my head. Spontaneous. Carnal rather than mental.
He saved me from myself by arching a brow and crossing his arms over his chest. “The rest of it. All of it. Off.”
My lips twitched at his commanding tone. “Is the striptease for your benefit or mine?”
“What do you think?”
I huffed out a laugh and reached behind me, unclasping my bra. “I think you’re enjoying this. A lot.”
“You’re not?” He stared hard, challenge flaring in his eyes.
I sucked in a deep breath as an instant hot ache flashed between my thighs, pulsing there. Still surprised by the effect he had on me, the power of which spun my head, I blew out a measured breath through pursed lips.
“I am.” My admission was soft-spoken.
He said nothing more as my arms came forward; he merely held my gaze. Like it was more important for him to gauge how every move I made—every single thing we did—affected me, not him.
I swallowed hard as the lacy straps of my bra loosened then fell over my shoulders. When I lowered my arms, the remaining bit of material that covered the heart of me fell away, sliding to the floor. But it wasn’t enough. Standing in the shadows, I brushed my fingers under the last of it, the slender thong straps that rested securely over my hipbones.
And down it went. All of it. My underwear. The armor beneath. Every constructed wall and safeguard tumbled away.