perfected for boardroom business. The Don’t fuck with me, or I’ ll fuck you over voice.
He lifted his hand.
“My cousin died playing that game. It freaks me out.” She could’ve had a cousin who played the game. It certainly freaked her out.
“How about this?” His obsidian eyes gleamed as he snapped one mink-lined handcuff around her right wrist and, before she could react, the other around her left wrist. Then attached both to a swirl in the wrought-iron headboard. “Better?”
Better was relative at this point. Where the hell had those come from? She was pretty sure not from his back pocket, since the black pants molded so closely to the curve of his ass. He was like a magician whipping out the cuffs. She hadn’t seen that coming. Beneath the silky mink, the cuff felt hard and locked with a very final metallic clink.
Mia licked her dry lips. “I’ve never tried them, but I’m game.” She had a pair just like them in her underwear drawer in her closet. She’d bought them online weeks ago, not having any idea when, if ever, she’d use them, but the titillation of thinking about using them had been fun.
Number twenty-three on her list.
Had he been going through her underwear? While that should have alarmed her, instead it confirmed that Cruz wasn’t as immune to her as he liked to pretend. Perhaps he was thinking about her all the time, just like she was thinking about him.
He was a man of many talents
His lips twitched before he bent down to run his open mouth down her throat. “Do you want to pick another safe word?” he asked against her ear, voice amused. “ Fucking get your hands off me is a bit long.”
“How about prick ?”
“That’ll work.” Smile wicked, he straightened and pulled his T-shirt over his head. She’d had sex with him multiple times, but she’d never seen him naked. Mia’s heartbeat did a triple axel, and her mouth went dry.
Big, broad-shouldered, tanned, and with a sexy wedge of dark silky hair arrowing down to disappear into the waistband of his jeans, he was like something out of her deepest sexual fantasies.
Coiled power vibrated through him as he stood absolutely still. She wanted to stroke her fingers down those rock-hard abs, to free what pressed and pulsed behind the zipper of his jeans. His arms looked powerful, strong tendons snaked and twisted beneath his skin, bleached colorless in the moonlight.
Eyes black, mouth a thin line, he said, “Let’s see what you have to offer me tonight.” He tossed the sheet aside to get a full-length view.
The negligee she’d bought from a racy online catalogue was an absolutely plain tube. No ruffles, no embellishments. Just a simple, stretchy, sheer black sleeveless column clinging to every curve and valley, from throat to ankle.
Completely covered, her body was also completely exposed.
His gaze raked her from head to toe, and his smile turned superior and knowing. “Jesus. Better than naked. You expected me.”
“You or a close facsimile,” Mia teased, feeling giddy and breathless, and he hadn’t touched her yet. “The UPS guy stops work at seven. I got bored waiting.”
“I’m here to alleviate that boredom,” he assured her softly, still damn well not touching her. “How would you like it?”
The tight buds of her nipples were painfully hard, and she was already wet anticipating his touch. “There’s a menu?”
“Missionary-style? You on the bottom? Or me on the bottom?”
“Been there, done that.” She shifted restlessly, arms drawn above her head by the cuffs. “What else you got?”
“I can eat you until you scream and pass out with pleasure.”
“Scream and pass out?” She raised both eyebrows, practically panting with lust. “That sounds a bit braggy, but I’m willing to give that a try. Although I’d prefer to use my mouth on you .”
“You like to be in control.”
“Who doesn’t?”
She saw the gleam of mocking triumph glimmer in his eyes as he murmured thickly,
Elizabeth Adler
Karen Schwabach
T Patrick Phelps
Shannon Wendtland
Anna Gavalda
Sarah Waters
Brandi Johnson
Ken Fite
Roy Johansen
Drew Sinclair