Page 11 of Perfectly Wrong

I sat on his lap and started playing with his hair. “Are you kidding? I did a lot of research before our first meeting. I never show up unprepared, which means I know a lot of your songs.”

“Good to know.” Sam kissed me just below my ear, smiling. “And what are you planning to do with the rose? Album cover, maybe?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ll have to wait and see. If you thought me singing was a surprise, you have no idea what I’m capable of once I put my team to work.” I winked and stood up. “But right now, I just want to get into bed, have great sex, and then sleep.”

I held out my hand, and he took it without hesitation. I pulled him up from the couch, and our lips met in a slow, sensual kiss. He wrapped his arms around me so tightly that my feet left the ground.

“Where are we headed?” he asked between kisses. “Bedroom? Kitchen? Your desk? The floor?”

“Are you planning to christen the whole house?”

“Absolutely.” He laughed. “And once we’re done here, we’ll move on to mine. Then my car, your office, every hotel room in Toronto.”

“What about airplanes?” I suggested, smiling at the thought. It had always been a fantasy of mine. “In the restroom during turbulence. That would be something.”

Sam paused, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. He set me back down and started unbuttoning my shirt. “Sounds like we have some very interesting ideas in the air, eh?”

I smirked and took his hands in mine. “The ideas aren’t the only things I want to get interesting, Mr. Martin. Let’s go to my room—I want you on my bed.”

He followed me eagerly, like the good boy he was. Once we were there, Sam moved towards me, full of desire and determination, but I stepped back before he could touch me. “Take your clothes off,” I said.

The atmosphere shifted, and I saw his breathing deepen. Despite his confident exterior, Sam was still an eighteen-year-old, excited but a little nervous. It was time to teach him a few things. He pulled off his shirt and hesitated, looking a bit uncertain.

“What?” I asked, my tone firm. “I’m not helping. Keep going. Pants and underwear.”

He unbuttoned his jeans and took everything off in one swift motion, standing completely naked in the middle of my room. And what a sight he was. I approached him, running my hands down his arms. He tried to touch me, but I didn’t let him. This was my moment, and I wanted every second of it.

I circled him slowly, trailing my fingers along his abdomen and back. “What are you doing?” he whispered, his eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted.

“Enjoying the view,” I replied in a low, sultry voice. “And deciding where to start.”

The anticipation was driving me wild, but it was nothing compared to what it was doing to Sam. The thrill of being at my mercy turned him on, and he was more than ready. I moved behind him and started stroking him gently.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “That’s torture, Elena!”

“Is it?” I teased, stepping in front of him again, locking eyes. “Let’s see what you think of the challenge I have for you.”

His eyes sparkled, and he grinned.

“I’m going to please you with my mouth, but you can’t come. If you do, no sex until I’m back from Japan. If you can hold back, I’m yours—any way you want me.”

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was a mix of shock and excitement. He was loving this.

“So you’ll remember me while I’m gone.” I bit my lip provocatively and exhaled. “Or we can just have regular sex, but I think you’re up for the challenge. What’s it going to be?”

“Can I make a counter-offer?”

I rolled my eyes. “Spit it out before I lose interest and entertain myself.”

He grinned, probably amused by the thought of me taking matters into my own hands.

“I’ll take your challenge, Miss Vaughan.” His voice was low and sexy. He’d never called me by my surname before, and it sent shivers through me. “But first, you need to take your clothes off. I don’t want to waste time on that later.”

That was fair. I agreed. Especially since, with what I had in mind, I’d be begging for him to finish long before I wanted to stop. Being naked would save time.

I stepped back and began taking off my clothes slowly. He tried to touch himself, but as I’d already made clear: this was my moment. “No,” I scolded. “It’s mine!”

Sam exhaled, more in satisfaction than surprise. When I was down to just my underwear, I knelt in front of him. If you’d asked me what was going through my mind, I wouldn’t have been able to explain. Maybe I was just tired of always following orders, tired of people trying to control my life. Do this, read that, write those reports, choose where I’ll let you take control next. Screw that. I needed to reclaim some power, and lucky for Sam—or maybe not—my moment of taking it back just happened to be when he was around. And naked.

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