gets fed my strawberry shortcake.”
She didn’t even bat an eye. “Now that I find hard to believe.”
“Why? You think because I’m a man I can’t say no to a woman?” Not that he ever had, but he could. Though he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about saying no to this one.
“You’re a man. You’re predisposed to say yes.” Her arms remained crossed. Her foot continued to swing.
Amazing. Absolutely amazing, the workings of thiswoman’s mind. “Believe it or not, Chloe, not all men are ruled by the head of their dick.”
“Oh, I know that.” She swept her hair from her face with her fingers, then waved her hand to make her point. “Sure, you use the head on your shoulders. Then, with a little luck and enough votes to win the election, you turn the program back over to the head in your pants. Face it, sugar. From D.C. to Hollywood to Houston, Texas. Men will be men.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” He crossed his arms and stared. “You really don’t think a man has any control over his baser instincts.”
“Not as much control as a woman has.”
“Over his or over hers?”
She lifted both brows. “Both.”
“You think it’s easier for a woman to seduce a man than for a man to seduce a woman?” When she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, he said, “Scratch that. What I mean is, do you really think a man can’t break a woman’s self-control as easily as a woman can break a man’s?”
She laughed. “Oh, sugar. Don’t make me laugh, using self-control and man in the same sentence like that. I have never met a man I couldn’t bring to his knees.”
Eric wasn’t going to debate that very real possibility. “But you are rarely brought to yours.”
She straightened her swinging leg, examined the skin of her kneecap. “Nope. Not a single carpet burn.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” He pointed to a freckle, keeping his finger there on her skin. “If that’s not carpet, then it’s got to be from the tile on my kitchen floor.”
Chloe pressed her lips together, taking a moment before lifting her gaze from her leg to his face. “I might have been the one on my knees, but I was also the one in control.”
Well, she had him there. He had certainly demonstrated a total loss. He circled his fingertip over her kneecap. “Tell me something else, Chloe.”
Chloe didn’t say a word, though she did look back down to the skin-to-skin point of contact. Eric took that as permission granted to move his hand farther up her bare leg. “About that blow job in the kitchen. Why the rules about no sexual contact if you didn’t intend to hold up your end of the bargain?”
For a moment, she hesitated, then her chin came up sharply. “My end of the bargain was agreeing to grant you three nonsexual favors. As in, you ask me for them first. You never asked me to sample your…strawberry shortcake. That wasn’t part of our deal.”
As explanations went, her logic was weak, but Eric couldn’t be bothered with more questions. He was too busy taking great pleasure in hearing her voice catch, listening to her breathing grow choppy and shallow.
Control, my ass, he thought, and continued the trip he’d begun at her knee. She had no idea who she was dealing with. Not if she thought she could deliver a fast ball and catch him looking when he was ready to swing.
Reaching the loose hem of her dress, he walked his fingers beneath the edge of the material and up the smooth skin of her thigh. His hand lingered, and when she didn’t move a muscle, when she didn’t say a word, when she didn’t let go of the breath he’d heard her pull in, he took a bold step into her space.
He moved his hand in a slow caress up her thigh to her hip, watching her pupils widen, her lips softly part to draw air into her lungs as he approached the strip of elastic that served as the waistband of her thong.
Touching her skin was like feeling that slide of whipped cream and chocolate all over again. A sensation of
She didn’t even bat an eye. “Now that I find hard to believe.”
“Why? You think because I’m a man I can’t say no to a woman?” Not that he ever had, but he could. Though he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about saying no to this one.
“You’re a man. You’re predisposed to say yes.” Her arms remained crossed. Her foot continued to swing.
Amazing. Absolutely amazing, the workings of thiswoman’s mind. “Believe it or not, Chloe, not all men are ruled by the head of their dick.”
“Oh, I know that.” She swept her hair from her face with her fingers, then waved her hand to make her point. “Sure, you use the head on your shoulders. Then, with a little luck and enough votes to win the election, you turn the program back over to the head in your pants. Face it, sugar. From D.C. to Hollywood to Houston, Texas. Men will be men.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” He crossed his arms and stared. “You really don’t think a man has any control over his baser instincts.”
“Not as much control as a woman has.”
“Over his or over hers?”
She lifted both brows. “Both.”
“You think it’s easier for a woman to seduce a man than for a man to seduce a woman?” When she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, he said, “Scratch that. What I mean is, do you really think a man can’t break a woman’s self-control as easily as a woman can break a man’s?”
She laughed. “Oh, sugar. Don’t make me laugh, using self-control and man in the same sentence like that. I have never met a man I couldn’t bring to his knees.”
Eric wasn’t going to debate that very real possibility. “But you are rarely brought to yours.”
She straightened her swinging leg, examined the skin of her kneecap. “Nope. Not a single carpet burn.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” He pointed to a freckle, keeping his finger there on her skin. “If that’s not carpet, then it’s got to be from the tile on my kitchen floor.”
Chloe pressed her lips together, taking a moment before lifting her gaze from her leg to his face. “I might have been the one on my knees, but I was also the one in control.”
Well, she had him there. He had certainly demonstrated a total loss. He circled his fingertip over her kneecap. “Tell me something else, Chloe.”
Chloe didn’t say a word, though she did look back down to the skin-to-skin point of contact. Eric took that as permission granted to move his hand farther up her bare leg. “About that blow job in the kitchen. Why the rules about no sexual contact if you didn’t intend to hold up your end of the bargain?”
For a moment, she hesitated, then her chin came up sharply. “My end of the bargain was agreeing to grant you three nonsexual favors. As in, you ask me for them first. You never asked me to sample your…strawberry shortcake. That wasn’t part of our deal.”
As explanations went, her logic was weak, but Eric couldn’t be bothered with more questions. He was too busy taking great pleasure in hearing her voice catch, listening to her breathing grow choppy and shallow.
Control, my ass, he thought, and continued the trip he’d begun at her knee. She had no idea who she was dealing with. Not if she thought she could deliver a fast ball and catch him looking when he was ready to swing.
Reaching the loose hem of her dress, he walked his fingers beneath the edge of the material and up the smooth skin of her thigh. His hand lingered, and when she didn’t move a muscle, when she didn’t say a word, when she didn’t let go of the breath he’d heard her pull in, he took a bold step into her space.
He moved his hand in a slow caress up her thigh to her hip, watching her pupils widen, her lips softly part to draw air into her lungs as he approached the strip of elastic that served as the waistband of her thong.
Touching her skin was like feeling that slide of whipped cream and chocolate all over again. A sensation of
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