Page 18 of Tell Me Something True

She turned and the tension in his shoulders relaxed fractionally.

“Eyes on me,” he repeated softly. “The entire time.”

Her mouth went dry. Well. Okay, then. This was an entirely different tone. Not hard. Not angry.

But pleased.

He liked it when she obeyed him. Instantly. Immediately.

And it turned out, she really, really liked pleasing him.

That was definitely going on her list of things to worry about later.

Right at the top.

She stepped back, her legs unsteady, until she stood in the spot she’d been before, giving him his preferred view where he could take her in from the top of her messy hair to the tips of her sexy shoes with one sweeping glance.

“Unbutton your shirt.”

Holding his gaze like he wanted her to, she lifted her hands to the top button, but she trembled, her fingers unable to work the button through the hole.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he said, as close to kind as he’d spoken to her tonight.

“I’m not,” she told him, giving him what he wanted the most.

The truth.

“Nervous?”

She shook her head. “I’m excited,” she admitted quietly, the button finally going through the hole. With her eyes still on his, she undid the next one.

His entire body twitched, as if he was fighting himself not to get off the couch.

She undid the rest of the buttons, one after the other, then let her arms hang at her sides. Waiting for him to tell her what to do next.

Again that flash of pleasure in his dark eyes, the slight quirk of his mouth. “Take it off.”

She did, this time not waiting before stepping toward him and holding it out.

Once he took it, she stepped back again.

His gaze was hot and potent as he skimmed it up her legs, lingering for several breathless moments on the triangle of silk between her thighs before going up, up, to her lace covered breasts.

“Unhook your bra.”

She undid the clasp between her breasts. The cups separated but caught on her nipples, keeping her mostly covered.

“Open it,” he murmured. “Slowly.”

Pulse skittering, she drew the material aside. The lace scraped against her hard nipples and her breath caught. They tightened even further, wanting more of that friction, but she put her arms down again. Stood there, breathing ragged, panties soaked, nipples tingling. Letting him take his fill.

Take what he wanted.

He shifted his arm off the back of the couch and made a gimme gesture with the hand not wrapped up in her belt.

Dragging the bra off her arms, she once again closed the distance between them. Once again handed over a piece of herself.

But this time, when she took that first step back, he shook his head.

---