Page 12 of A Little Harmless Pleasure

“Chris, I said to keep your hands on the bed.”

She could see his irritation. He clenched his jaw. Fascinated, she watched defiance mixed with excitement lighten his eyes. After a silent battle, he seemed to come to a decision and slapped his hands back down on the bed.

“That’s nice.”

He growled but didn’t say a word.Oh my, this was fun. Wanting to see how far she could push him, she stepped back a few feet, just out of reach. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and unhurriedly pulled it off. Throwing it behind her, not caring where it landed, she captured his gaze, challenging him. She wondered how long it would take before he would be tempted to dip his gaze to the rest of her body.

Reaching behind her, she unfastened her bra, shivering as the cool air drifted over her body. The room was chilly, but until that instant she had not noticed how hot her skin was. She let the bra fall to the floor. Once her breasts were bare, his gaze dropped to her naked flesh. She’d never been well endowed, but it hadn’t really bothered her before tonight. His tongue darted out, licking his lips. Her imagination didn’t have to work hard to conjure an image of his tongue gliding along her skin. Cynthia was sure he would be a genius at driving her crazy with it.

Her nipples tightened almost painfully. Oh Lord. It took every bit of control not to touch them. It would give her some relief, she knew, but she really longed to have his hands on them, his fingers caressing her.

She unzipped her skirt and let it drift to the floor. She stepped out of it, kicked it to the side and smiled at Chris. He didn’t even notice. His gaze was fastened on the tiny panties she was wearing. Those, and the pale thigh-high stockings. Both were the only indulgence she had given herself. The pink thong barely covered the important parts. Anna had convinced her to buy the lacy confection when they’d gone shopping and had insisted the thigh-high stockings were essential. Cynthia owed Anna a world of thanks. If the look in Chris’s eyes was anything to go by, every penny had been worth it.

She was only a few feet from him, but when she approached him, she walked leisurely. His fingers curled into the bedspread. Excitement lanced through her. Stepping between his legs again, she smiled down at him. He really was adorable.

“You shouldn’t be doing this, Cynthia.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. She understood this was his last chance to clear his conscience. The saint was doing battle with the sinner inside.

She shook her head. “Chris, normally I would agree. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl.” He opened his mouth, and the expression on his face told her he was ready to argue with her. She stopped any further comment by lightly touching her fingers to his mouth. His breath warmed her skin. “No. I want no promises. After tonight, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

The need to disagree glittered in his eyes, but he nodded. Something told her he would argue, given half the chance. He was a stubborn man, but for once in her life, she was going to be more stubborn.

“Now, take off your shirt.”

He complied, his muscles flexing enticingly as he slid the shirt from around his wrists. Cynthia’s heart smacked against her chest. Damn, the man was built. Max had been in good shape, built like a linebacker, with broad shoulders. Just as tall and muscled as Max, Chris resembled a swimmer. He was sinewy, his muscles leaner, more sculpted. She curled her fingers into her palms, trying not to reach out, grab him and take full advantage of that erection he sported for her.

Even just thinking it made her face burn. Again, Anna was to blame. She said exactly what she was thinking. Now she had Cynthia thinking it, but thankfully not saying it out loud. Yet.

When Chris freed his wrists, panic swelled. Old doubts plagued her as she contemplated her next move. What the hell was she doing? Ordering a man around like she was in charge. She didn’t even know if she would ever enjoy sex, let alone be able to tell a man what to do to make her happy.

“Cynthia?”

His tone gentle, his warm look told her he’d seen her alarm. In the face of her weakness, there were no derogatory accusations or condescending remarks. Instead, he offered understanding, just by saying her name.

Arousal now mixed with something more dangerous.Tenderness. It unfurled and wrapped her in warmth. She couldn’t get attached to him. He was leaving. But the show of understanding, of acceptance she’d never received from anyone, helped shake away any second thoughts she had. It might just be one night, but it was hers to enjoy.

She took his face into her hands and bent her head, giving in to the need that had been clawing at her since she’d first seen him. Lightly, she brushed her lips against his. Satisfaction poured through her as pleasure filled his eyes. Once, twice, three times, she moved her mouth against his. His eyes drifted shut as she pressed harder, his lips opening, allowing her tongue to steal inside.

Lordy. He tasted better than she’d hoped. Soon, she lost control of the kiss as he began to match her, tangling his tongue with hers. Her hands roamed to his hair, then to the back of his head, trying to somehow get close enough to devour him. Nothing in her life had been this delicious, this wonderful. Cynthia broke the kiss, pulling slightly away from him. Both of them were breathing heavily. She swallowed, gathering up her courage for her next demand. It wasn’t easy to say the words aloud. This little game had her aroused for the first time in the presence of a man, and there was no way she could stop now. She had to discover if it was real.

“Take off my panties.”

Chapter Four

Chris paused for a second as he gathered his control. He didn’t want to slide those cotton-candy panties down. He wanted to rip them off, throw her on the bed and sink his cock into her pussy. She would no doubt be tighter than a fist, her muscles clamping down on his shaft. And smelling her, knowing she was wet just from what little foreplay they’d engaged in, wasn’t any easier. But he restrained himself. This wasn’t about him, about his pleasures. Watching Cynthia gain confidence with her play of domination was more arousing than anything he’d ever observed. Through her pleasure, he would gain his own.

As he reached out, his fingers trembled. For good reason. He was worried that with just one touch he would lose it. The woman had him so close to coming in his pants like a teenager. He would bet she didn’t even realize the extent of her power over him. Slipping his thumbs beneath the lacy ridge of her panties, he brushed his fingers against her bare ass.

Jesus Christ, she was wearing a thong. He’d have loved to see her in it from behind. She was a small woman. The skirt had outlined her curves, showing off her world-class ass. He almost passed out at the memory of it rubbing against his cock. Swallowing, he pulled himself together and gently tugged on the panties. As he moved them down her legs, he skimmed his fingers against her thigh-highs. By the time he arrived at her ankles, his whole body fairly vibrated with need. His dick throbbed, his balls ached, and his brain was no longer functioning. All the blood in his big head had rushed downward.

Daintily—because Cynthia did everything that way, even when she was ordering him about—she stepped out of the panties. When he straightened, the thatch of curly blonde hair, a shade darker than that on her head, caught his attention. Neatly trimmed, the curls were wet with her passion, the musky scent filling his senses. Damn, she smelled good.

“Chris.”

He loved the way she said his name. Long, lazy, Southern. It wound its way down his spine, sent his heartbeat out of control. He looked up and smiled, hoping to placate her. She was frowning at him, that wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. In the few short hours he’d known her, Chris had found himself observing small mannerisms most people probably overlooked. He noticed things about women all the time, but Cynthia didn’t seem to be able to hide her emotions from him. He had a feeling she’d masked them for years. It gave him satisfaction to know she couldn’t do that with him. Whether it was the alcohol, or him, it didn’t matter. All he cared about was that he was the lucky bastard she’d chosen for her wild night of sex.

“Yes, Cynthia?”

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