Page 29 of A Shot in the Dark
Instead I drop my hands to his waistband, stating, “I consent.” Button, zipper, and down with the slacks and boxers all at once, finding his cock already standing at attention. “Military efficiency.”
He laughs; the sound is hollow.
I stare at the fabric pooled on the floor, wondering if a bare Boots can live up to my imagination of what’s beneath the layers. Then, with a sigh, I step back, look up, taking him all in, and I know.
He can.
He does.
And so. much. more.
Holy shit.
The man is magnificent.
A study in perfection.
“Seven days,” I offer.
“That’s my girl,” he answers, and then he opens his eyes and I am lost.
I’ve always been a fan of gold. My bracelets, necklaces, earrings. Gold, gold, gold, like I’m some dragon building a hoard.
Seeing Boots’ startling silvery eyes makes me an instant convert. In a word, they are unworldly. Gold means nothing to me. All I want is to wander, free, in Boots’ sterling stare.
Chapter 10
He stalks past me to the bed, peeling off more of my clothing as he draws me along, mesmerized.
“For safety’s sake,” he murmurs, as he makes quick work removing my bra and skirt. Somehow at the same time. The man is a fucking miracle worker.
“Seven days. Nothing more,” he promises, drawing me towards him as he sits on the bed. “Means nothing. Only so I can get a little rest and meet my other deadlines. Makes my job easier…” He closes his eyes, eyelashes fluttering a moment before he opens them again. “God, you’re hot…” he says, stroking his hands lightly along my sides.
I reach out, touch the sides of his face, the stubble he so often grumbles about, and let one hand drift to his right ear—the one with the tiny notch in it. He rolls his face into my wrist, nipping the tender skin. “You need one imperfection, I guess…”
He growls. “I have plenty...”
I giggle. “I don’t see them,” I insist. “Boots,” I dare as I skim my hands across his broad shoulders and down his arms. So many muscles—I’ve felt them slide against my body dozens of times but to see them…? “You’re beautiful.”
He stiffens at the compliment, nostrils flaring. “You’ve got the praise kink, princess, not me.”
I startle but his hands on my hips keep me close. “I donot?—“
“You’re smarter than that,” he counters. “Probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met… Beautiful and brilliant… Top shelf pussy… Grade A fucking… Gold star action…”
Something like a purr builds in me, spiking with my need. Oh, shit. He’s right.
He laughs a heartbeat before dragging me forward so I straddle him. He grabs one of my nipples with his teeth. Suddenly there’s a condom, and he seats me in his lap, rubbing my clit with his thumb and groaning as he enters me. He claims my other nipple and I moan.
“Right like this,” he begins, and when he pauses on the downstroke before uttering “princess,” “pet,” or any of the dozen other descriptors he’s ever applied to me, I say the thing I want to hear most from him—my name.
“Sylva.”
“Fuck,” he groans, the word thick and deep, snarling out of him like its own wild thing as his silver eyes focus on mine, pulling me into a spinning galaxy of stars. “— didn’t— want— to— know— that,” he says, glaring at me as he guides me back and forth in his lap. “Even faster… Good grrrl. Yeah, just like that…” His nostrils flare when I begin to struggle against him, chasing my climax. “No.” He gives me a little shake. “Not yet. Unless…” He shifts us backwards on the bed, laying back so I straddle him as he bucks like a stallion beneath me.
“‘less what?” I moan.
He whips the words out like a challenge: “You want to really impress me…and cometwice.”
