Sexy Lies and Rock & Roll by Sawyer Bennett

devotion.”
    “I’m not wearing clothes you choose for me,” she bites back stubbornly, her little hands now clenched into fists.
    “You most certainly are,” I retort. To make my point, I start emptying the bags out onto the bed. Clothes start piling up… jeans, sexy skirts, skimpy shirts, high heels and boots, and—
    “You bought me lingerie?” Emma screeches as she grabs up a bra done in black lace with red satin trim.
    “Technically, the stylist did,” I tell her. To add fuel to the fire, I grin at her. “But I would not be averse to you trying that on right now and perhaps giving me a little fashion show.”
    “Oooh,” Emma screeches in anger, taking the bra and throwing it at me, where I catch it cleanly before it hits my face. “I am not trying on any of this, and you cannot dictate how I dress.”
    And fuck me standing… she’s goddamn hot as hell right now. Same high color to her cheeks, eyes blazing, and hair seeming to fly all around her face as if the torrent of anger coming at me is electrifying it.
    “I am your employer,” I tell her imperiously, folding my arms back across my chest without letting go of the sexy bra. “I am an entertainer. I have a brand. I can most definitely tell you how you should dress.”
    “Not down to my underwear,” she hisses at me, her cheeks flaming brighter as her eyes flick to the bra.
    “You wear granny panties, Emma.” I sneer at her in disgust, and yes… real disgust because Emma is a passionate woman and should never be wearing grandma underwear. “You act like you wear granny panties. It’s bad for my image.”
    If I thought she was mad before, her eyes practically blaze with undisguised fury. She leans her upper body toward me, her fingers flexing outward and clenching back into fists repetitively. Through gritted teeth, she snarls, “You conceited, narcissistic barbarian. How dare you think to judge me based on something as shallow as my clothing?”
    I cock an eyebrow at her and chide, “Come on, Emma. Granny panties. You can do better than that.”
    “Aagh,” she screams in frustration. I’m stunned when she bends over the bed, gathers up an armful of clothing, and throws it at me. “You… you… you asshole!”
    And I’m a fucking goner.
    My hands shoot out fast, grabbing her by the shoulders, and I pull her into me so hard her head snaps backward. I get just a brief glimpse of her eyes rounding in surprise before my mouth is crashing down onto hers.
    Emma whimpers, possibly in fear, and I have a moment where I go shockingly still. But then Emma’s hands grip onto my biceps and she squeezes, and that’s enough for me.
    Curling an arm around her lower back, I pull her tight into my body so she can feel every single hard inch of me.
    And I mean hard.
    It happened right around the time she called me an asshole and I thought I saw fire leaping from her irises.
    Emma gasps into my mouth when I press her belly against my cock, and I use that slight opening to slide my tongue into her mouth.
    Fucking amazing.
    She tastes like mint, and her lips are soft, reserved, and orderly, but prim little Emma gives her tongue right back to me. It swipes at mine boldly, and her moan fills my mouth… causes my brain to go fuzzy from the sheer, sweet pleasure of her taste.
    I want to kiss her for hours.
    No, days.
    Kiss her for days and days.
    But I want to fuck her too. As she squirms in my arms, seeking to get closer, I want more than just a kiss. I want to bury my cock so deep in her hot pussy that I almost come in my pants at the thought.
    I loosen my arm around her back only to slip my fingers in past the back waistband of her shorts.
    Her cute, soccer mom Bermuda shorts that hide her legs from me.
    Emma cries out when my fingers graze her skin, and then she moans when I push them past the waistband of what I’m betting are indeed a pair of granny panties. I didn’t actually look at her underwear when I was trying to get her sizes, but I’m taking