Page 23 of Sexy Bad Escort

His eyes widenas he stands. “You wanted to check out Danny’s Love Den?”

I rollmy gaze as I locate my door key. “Calling it that isn’t reminiscentof a seventies porn film at all. There’s no way you’ll ever get meto step into your loveden.”

“That’sfine with me,” he says.“Your place is better.”

I pushthe key into the lock and turn around. “What are you doing hereanyway? You didn’t answer your phone. I sent youa job, and you didn’t respond.”

“Myphone died. They reallydon’t make batteries strong enough to take the hours of games itrequires to wait for you.” He brushes his fingers against my hipand then turns the key in the lock. “And I was waiting for youbecause I figured you’d come home after dinner, not go to my place,and I wanted to pick up where we left off.”

“Huntingfor spiders?” My breath catches as I search out the doorhandle.My skin buzzesat our close proximity, and I should probably be using my head, butmy brain is traipsing off to Tahiti with both suitcases packed fullof images of his lips.

“Clearing the air,” he says. “Didn’t want you to stop talking to me again.Figured if you did, it would be for a hell of a lot longer thistime, so I thought I’d make sure you had to talk to me.”

“That’ssmart,” I say, takinghis hand and dragging him across the threshold before pushing thedoor shut. “So thoughtful.”

“Well, we do havea business to run. It works better if we can communicate.” He wrapsa big hand around my hip, and I wind my arms around hisneck.

“Weshould definitely talkabout that.” I glance from his eyes to his mouth to hischest and back again.

“Set someground rules,” he says.

“The same formy family. I don’t want to scar my niece anymore than we managedthis evening.”

Maybe wedon’t need to talk aboutus. Not now. Not when this isn’t anything.

Hecrooks a finger under my chin and tilts my head back as he lowershis. My pulse is racing;my lips tingle. My hands scope out his shoulders, run down his pecsas he sweeps inside my mouth with his tongue while his handsexplore the outside of my thighs and under my dress to myass.

We movebackward into the room, glued together at the lips andwaist. The hard bulge of hiserection bumps against my belly. I pluck the last button on hisshirt undone and shove it off his shoulders. He lets me go longenough to rip it over his wrists and toss it. His gaze stays lockedon me while I hike my dress over my head and let it drop to thefloor.

He rubsa hand over his faceandpinches his bicep. “Ouch.”

“What isit?”

“I knewI was good, but not that good.” He runs his gaze over my body andthe red panties and matching bra I’m wearing. “This is like everyone of my fantasies. Except you’re still wearing a bra.” He closesthe distance and slides a hand around to the hooks that hold ittogether. “But I can rectify that.”

“One-handed.Nice,” I say while he drags the straps down my arms and runs hislips along the side of my neck. It makes me shiver and reach forthe belt threaded through the loops of his khaki shorts. The bucklegives with a yank, and I pop the button and drag down thezipper.

Heshoves them off his hips and they pool around his ankles, leavingus both naked except for our underwear and shoes. He kicks hisoff, and I bend to undothe straps on my heeled sandals.

“Leave themon,” he orders.

“Okay.”I stand up as his gazesweeps me again. I swallow hard at the desire in his eyes. “Howmany times have you imagined you and I getting naked?”

“Couldn’t say.” He reaches out and grips my waist,drawing me closer. “Alot. No. What’s more than a lot?”

“Um.” Itrail myfingers alongthe line that divides his chest, down the ridges of his abdomen.The fine trail of hair that starts at his navel is downy soft andtickles my fingers until the elastic of his boxer briefs cuts meoff. “I’m not sure.”

“Itdoesn’t matter. Thisisfar better.” He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist.“Which way to the bedroom?”

“Thatway.” I point into the darkness past the living room. “Maybe Ishould turn on a light.”

“I’vegot this.” He kisses me as he walks farther into the apartment. “Got you.”

“Yeah,you do.” Can’t believe how many times he’s surprised me these pastfew weeks. He’s not asjuvenile as he pretends he is. There’s more to him.

Loweringme onto the bed, heshoves clothes and decorative pillows, European and sham, out ofthe way. “Are you sure you have enough of these?”

Leaningon my elbows, I watch him. “Prettysure.”

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