Page 42 of Tempt Me

“Hmmm. Do you have a current partner?”

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll know.”

He rubbed his hands together. “I don’t haveapartner.”

I squinted at him. “You have more than one partner?”

His smile this time wasn’t quite so bold—it was more like cheeky.

“How many?”

He glanced at the ceiling again. “Three.”

“Oh. . . so you’re a bit of a player then? Are these women married?”

“Not all of them.”

Holy crap.Benson was a lady-killer. And not in the body-in-the-trunk kind of way. I frowned. “You must be pretty good in bed then.”

He adjusted his glasses. “It may’ve been mentioned a few times.”

Woah. . . now I really was ready for a piece of that lady-killer action.

“It’s getting hot in here.” It truly was, and it wasn’t just the sun penetrating through the open curtain. I turned around. “Would you mind unzipping me?”

Benson’s hands brushed against my neck, soft and supple, then the zipper glided all the way down to the top of my buttocks. Shrugging the dress off my shoulders as I turned to him, I dropped the dress to the floor and stepped out.

Benson licked his lips and tugged on the cloth belt around his waist. I thought he was going to remove it, but he didn’t.

“Should we at least have a drink or something?” His voice was shaky.

“No need.” I reached behind my back and unclipped my bra. I caught the lacy fabric over my breasts. “Do you want me to carry on?” I winked at him, trying to look sexy.

He nodded and cleared his throat.

As I gradually lowered my bra, he ran his tongue across his lips, and my nipples began to harden. I flung the lingerie at him, and he caught it with one hand and nudged his glasses back up his nose.

As he glided the lacy fabric between his fingers and watched me, I gently twisted my nipples, stirring up lovely sensations from between my legs that blazed through my body.

I stepped my feet apart and dug my stilettos into the carpet, and with Benson watching me, I ran my hand over my sex. My panties were soft lace, providing little resistance to my pressure.

I put my finger in my mouth, slicking it with moisture. With a slight bend in my knees, I curled my hand over my torso, tugged my panties aside, and flicked my clit with the tip of my finger. Everything clenched up inside me with this touch. I did it again. Just a quick flick of my clit.

Then I remembered what Henry had done a few weeks ago, and I tapped at my delicate bud. I did it a few times—tap, tap, tap—but it had nowhere near the same amount of appeal that it had when Henry did it, so I abandoned that idea and went back to rubbing.

In my lust-fueled haze, I glanced over at Benson. He retained his distance, but his rock-hard cock protruded from the gap in his robe like it, too, was trying to watch my show.Well, hello there.

I moaned at the tingling sensations running through me, and Benson released a primal moan, too. As I dragged my finger out of my pussy, I applied pressure to my clit. Bending my knees, I delved deeper into my wet folds, and with each probe of my velvet flesh, another layer of lust was stacked inside me.

Rubbing harder and faster, I closed my eyes and explored my hot oasis over and over. But for some reason, my probing finger wasn’t enough. I couldn’t quite get there.

Snapping my eyes open, I strode to Benson and tugged his bathrobe apart. “Oooh, what have we here?”

His gaze flitted from his cock to me, drawing attention to the flagpole that I couldn’t miss if I tried.

Mr. Lady Killer looked lost for words.

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