Enraptured by Mel Teshco Page A

failed to charm, her past never quite
forgotten.
    She dropped her bag onto the nearest sofa before accepting
the drink. Arching a brow, she retorted boldly, “Fuckable as always.”
    His husky laugh sent shivers all the way to her toes. She
tipped back her drink and swallowed it in one hit. She sighed, relishing the
slow whiskey burn that only accentuated the intense chemistry between them. She
raised her glass that clinked with nothing but ice. “No brandy tonight?” He
always had one ready for her in honor of her namesake.
    “Later,” he promised. He nodded toward her empty glass and
asked, “Would you care for another?”
    She arched a brow and said sweetly, “If I didn’t know any
better I’d think you were trying to take advantage of me.”
    His eyes gleaming, he spread his arms out as if in
supplication, his drink untouched in one hand. “Would you prefer to take
advantage of me?”
    With a smile she stepped forward, their bodies all but
touching when she handed him her glass. She slid an arm around his nape,  and her
other hand slipped beneath his towel. His breath hissed as she skated one long
nail along the thickening, silky ridge of his shaft before she cupped the heavy
weight of his balls in her palm. “Like this?” she asked.
    His stare held hers, hot and assessing. “I’m not
complaining.”
    She nodded in the direction of their glasses. “How long do
you think you can hold those?”
    He raised his arms to shoulder level, the ice clinking in his
untouched drink. “As long as needed.” His eyes burned. “I’m up for the
challenge.”
    She released his cock, wondering if her smile had made it to
her eyes. She took these challenges seriously, just the same as he did. But it
was even more arousing knowing that Blaine was used to being the one in
control. She looked up and held his stare as she reached up and dipped a finger
into his untouched whiskey. “Good.”
    Her hand returned between his thighs and she caressed the
head of his hard cock with a wet finger, smearing whiskey into his slit. It had
to burn, but the pain evidently balanced precariously with pleasure when he
closed his eyes for a moment on a barely audible groan.
    When his silky long lashes flicked back open, his stare
alight with desire, she felt a moment of empowerment knowing he was all but
constrained by the glasses in his hands.
    “You’ll pay for that,” he whispered throatily, his eyes
glinting, “my god you’ll pay.”
    She shivered. The scenario was akin to releasing the locks
to a tiger’s cage and standing back to wait for the inevitable. But then Blaine
could never be accused of being boring, especially not in the bedroom. Her
hands moved to his ass cheeks, her long nails digging deep enough to hurt when
she asked silkily, “Is that a threat or a promise?”
    The glasses wavered just a little in his grip. She could
have purred with delight.
    “It’s whatever you want it to be,” he drawled, “times ten.”
    Her breath hitched. Triumph mingled with trepidation. His
promised retribution just might be the icing on the cake, if it wasn’t for repressed
self-doubts suddenly rearing their head. Even now, many years after the
bullying and teasing from her peers, she had to remind herself she was
beautiful and desirable. It took the admiration and high regard of men like
Blaine to remind her without so many words that she was no longer the insecure
girl she’d once been.
    Her hands moved upward and flattened onto his chest. She
stood on tiptoe, her mouth pressing over his before she touched the seam of his
lips with her tongue. His growl morphed into a groan when she pushed her tongue
into his mouth and rocked against him, emulating the act he paid top dollar for
her to carry out.
    God she loved the taste of him. Hot spices and contrary
overtones of cool mint. But she needed to slow things down, draw out the
moment. She pulled back and licked her lower lip. His eyes narrowed, following
the movement.
    Dipping her