Page 18 of The VIP Package

So why do I take a step toward her? And another. And another.

I’m bearing down on Camille, watching her hazel eyes flash with intrigue and shock.

“In that case,” I say, unhooking the buttons at the collar of the chef’s coat. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

CHAPTER 5

CAMILLE

Am I deliberately poking the uptight billionaire until he snaps?

That would be a yes.

Am I truly convinced he’s this riled over the classic simultaneous oral position?

Actually…yeah.

I wouldn’t have guessed it five minutes ago, but the fire in his eyes as he stalks my direction has me seriously rethinking…well, everything.

My palms start to sweat as Ashton storms over, an unreadable look on his face. Is he fired up for sixty-nining, for sex swings, or for proving himself on a sexual stage?

I’m about to find out.

He stops right in front of me, icy blue eyes shooting daggers. “Lose the dress.”

“Nice foreplay.” God, it’s working.

Ashton doesn’t blink. “Lose the dressnow.”

He finishes unfastening the buttons on his borrowed chef’s coat, and in an impressive display of multitasking, toes off his shoes and kicks them toward the door. Thick hands drop to hiszipper and he stares me down with fiery hot lava in his eyes. “I’m not joking, Camille. Get naked right now.”

“Does the bosshole zaddy thing really work for you?”

“Yes.” He drags down his zipper and shoves off his pants and his boxer briefs.

Swallowing hard, I stare. “I can see why.”

Domineering men have never been my thing. I’m starting to reconsider.

I can’t resist pushing his buttons again. “What if I just want to swing?” Threading my feet through the stirrups, I kick out and set myself in motion. “What if I feel like?—”

“Like a woman who needs her pussy licked?” He captures the strap connecting the swing to the ceiling. The other hand catches my waist, halting my movement completely. Storm clouds fill his gaze as he stares me down. “I won’t ask you again, Camille.”

I shiver and try to hide it. “I don’t recall you asking me the first time, Ash Hole.” Liquid heat between my legs. “I remember you bossing me like a caveman.”

“That’s because you like it.”

Licking my lips, I wonder if it’s really that obvious.

“Yes,” he says, though I swear I said nothing out loud. “I can see how you become flushed and dazed when I tell you what to do. How you squirm in your seat, rubbing your legs together.”

“I don?—”

“Your mouth might say you don’t like being ordered around, but your body says otherwise.”

Arousal rolls through me like a wave. Has any man ever paid this much attention to my responses?

“You’re an expert on my body now?”

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