Playing It Safe(62)

The drive home is full of desperate kisses at every red light, hands roaming over clothes, and promises of pleasure that have me weak at the knees and dying to get him in my bed.

And oh, how I’ll be having my way with him, because now it’s my turn to surprise him.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As soon as we walk in the door, I ask him to get us a couple of glasses of wine while I freshen up. Once he’s out of sight, I dart into my bedroom and head straight for the lingerie drawer. I have stuff in here I’ve never worn that has been dying to see the light of day. Mind you, I also have stuff in here I’ve worn before that I’m not about to put on ever again. I don’t even know why I keep it, to be honest. It’s pretty much soiled once you break up with someone, and it reminds you of that time you ate bad clams, and you say to yourself, Never again, when you look at it.

I’m rifling through until I hit pay dirt. A matching fire-engine red lace push-up bra and barely there panties. Immediately, I unzip my dress and take everything off. I’m pulling up the barely there panties when Alex calls out to me from the kitchen.

“Julia, where are the wineglasses?”

I yell back, “The cabinet closest to the refrigerator.”

I hear him close a cabinet door a second later and then call out, “Red or white?”

“Doesn’t matter. Surprise me.”

I’m adjusting “the boys” in the push-up bra when he shouts back, “I thought you hate surprises?”

Fucker has the memory of an elephant.

“Smart-ass.”

I hear him laughing in the background while I stand before my closet mirror doing a final inspection. Hmm, I’m missing something. I mean, I look good as is, but it’s lacking something, and I can’t quite put my finger on …

Aha!

I run back to my lingerie drawer and pull out a pair of thigh-high black sheer stockings and then run right back to my closet for a pair of the best f*ck-me pumps I can find. Plopping my ass on the edge of the bed, I carefully, but lightning fast, roll up the stockings and then slip on the shoes. I walk over to the mirror again and …

Oh, hell yes! Amy Winehouse knew what she was talking about when she sang about those “Fuck Me Pumps,” because that’s exactly what was missing.

“I can do this, I can do this. I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And doggone it, people like me,” I chant out loud to myself in the mirror, and then I hear the pop of the cork from the wine bottle that he’s opening.

Perfect timing.

I open the door to my bedroom, but not before lifting my arms to smell myself because with all the running around and my previously mentioned issue with sweating, you never know. Peering my head around the door, I look down the hallway to see his back is to me. So I walk fast on my tippy toes until I reach the end of the hallway and position myself while his back is still turned. I’m leaning against the wall with one hand on my hip, my feet crossed at the ankles and patting myself on the back because I seriously could not have timed this better if I tried.

“Did you pick red or white finally?”

Alex turns around while pouring what I can now tell is a glass of red wine and says with a grin, “You said to surprise you.”

He looks up at that point to find me standing there in my sex-kitten outfit, and his grin vanishes. It’s replaced with his jaw clenching and a hiss of breath from his nose that I can hear from over here.

“Surprise,” I singsong.

The wine overflows in the glass and spills onto the kitchen floor, causing him to break out of his spell and curse out loud. I’m rather enjoying watching him fumble around looking for a towel to wipe up the mess when I calmly say, “Leave it.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

Alex drops everything and elegantly strides toward me as his eyes canvass every piece of my body. When he’s about a foot away, I shove off the wall and start walking backward toward my bedroom, matching him step for step. It’s really a f*cking miracle I don’t fall and bust my ass in these heels, but I finally make it inside the confines of my room with him still following me.

“Stand right here and don’t move,” I say, pointing to a spot right in front of the foot of my bed.

One corner of his mouth twists up in a sinful grin as he follows my directions. I walk behind him and press my breasts to his back as I reach around him to grab the lapels of his blazer and slowly ease it off. I toss it on the floor and walk back around to face him. He reaches for me, but I take a step back out of his grasp.

“Uh-uh. No touching,” I say, shaking my head.

Alex reluctantly drops his arms and tilts his head to the side, his eyes in silent protest at my instructions. I’m having entirely too much fun as I start to unbutton his shirt. Once it’s off, I run my hands up from his defined abdominal muscles to his upper chest before fanning out to his shoulders and down his arms. His skin is hot to the touch, and he’s taking shallow breaths. I look up at him at the same time my lips press against his chest to leave a lingering kiss there.

“Payback is a bitch,” he whispers playfully.

I giggle because little does he know this little game is driving me crazy too. It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to scrap the seduction act and jump his bones.

“Promises, promises,” I say coolly while running a finger down to his belt buckle. “Take off your shoes.”