Page 29 of Analysing Her Assets

Gideon laughed.

“There’s no Champions on Saturday. If anything, I’ll be watching the Premier... never mind. Okay, so read it out loud to me. How about that?” He took out a sheaf of printed papers held together by a simple paper clip.

“Okay, if that’s all you want tonight.” She took a sip of her wine, disappointment clogging her throat.

Gideon laid the papers on the table.

“No, it’s not all I want tonight.”

Gideon reached to pluck her wine glass from her hand and placed it on the table. The room was silent, and the street outside was still. Tel Aviv, the city that proclaimed it never slept, held its breath waiting for Gideon’s next move. He pulled her hairband gently, like he did before he kissed her, the slight tugging lulling. He arranged her locks on her shoulders, his long fingers traveling along her arms. Her body responded, anticipation and longing mounting, her skin tingling where his fingers trailed. Tamar breathed shallowly, as his rough thumbs reached her wrists, caressing them in gentle circles.

“You’re beautiful, but I’m thinking we should take this slow.” He laid her palms back in her lap and picked up his glass.

She exhaled the rest of the air from her lungs.

“Phhh...” she coughed. “Thank you, I guess. Telling me I’m pretty, then making me read aloud.”

“Tamar, come here.”

“Where?”

His warm hands wrapped around her waist, and then, in a display of effortless strength, he hoisted her onto his lap, facing him. She had no choice but to spread her knees and lean against him, feeling the muscles in his shoulders flex under her fingers.

“More. Closer. It’s my turn. Do as I say.”

His rough tone was very different from his usual gentle one, and a complete turn-on. She opened her knees further, sliding down his bended legs. Her crotch hit a bump and Tamar’s pussy woke up in a bang. Her heart raced in her chest as she leaned in closer, the heat from his body engulfing her.

“I think you’re sexy.” His breath smelled lovely, like wine and mint. The gap in his shirt revealed his chest hair, the cavity at the base of his neck. She fought her desire to bury her nose there and sniff deeply. He freed the bit of skirt tangled between them. Now all that separated her excited center from his coarse jeans were her thin underwear. Her untrained triceps strained as she tried to sit higher, so as not to slide back and forth against him, as she so desperately wanted to.

“Do you believe me?” He poked at her, the bump becoming a hill, pressing against her slit. His strong palms squeezed her thighs.

“I’m basically giving you a lap dance,” she bit her lower lip to stop herself from moaning. “You’re hard because I’m sitting on you. Gravity and friction.”

Gideon’s nostrils actually flared.

“But if I said that you have fat thighs, then you would believe me, right?”

She gasped at him and squirmed, trying to free herself. She was equal parts angry and crazy turned on by the rubbing.

“Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere. Hey, look at me, look me in the eye.” Again, he used that uber-sexy commanding voice.

“I don’t have to be nice to you, or buy you dinner, heck, you even supplied the wine. So why wouldn’t I be honest with you when I give you a compliment? You’re sexy. And pretty.”

The hazel eyes shone golden at her. The large palms pinned her to him, and he gave a thrust that reached her toes, and caused her eyelids to flutter. This time she groaned aloud, but she no longer tried to hide how turned on she was. She couldn’t.

“Can’t you feel how hard you make me? It’s your juicy ass,” a thrust, “and thighs,” a poke, “and incredible boobs.” A squeeze of her hips. “I mean what I say, Tamar. I’ll make another deal with you. It will be part of our pact. We’re not telling each other anything we don’t mean. Deal?”

It was a cliché, that it was easy to believe the bad stuff people said about you, easier than to accept compliments. Like all cliches, it held a kernel of truth. But she would believe Gideon now. He had logical arguments coupled with hungry glances.

“Deal,” she told him. Honesty was something that she rarely shared with anybody. Sometimes with her family. Never with a man.

“So, do you still want me to read your mother’s book aloud to you?”

Gideon closed his eyes and groaned.

“I can’t believe we’re talking about my mother when I’m this hard, but yes. She is a slave driver and wants this back the day after tomorrow.”

Tamar took hold of the pages by half turning around, using Gideon’s crotch as her axis, his stifled groan a bonus. She started reading, relishing the way he stared at her mouth. His fingers lightly massaged her back and upper buttocks.

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