Page 3 of Vicious Arrangement
Me.
I pull my hand away and half step back, bumping into someone behind me. And I look up, and up.
The man’s gorgeous. Tall, unbelievably hot with dark hair that’s short at the back, a little long at the front, and perfectly styled so a lock falls charmingly forward. He’s got sensual lips, a strong chin, and the chiseled cheekbones of a model. His left cheek bears the perfect dimple, and his dark eyes that are probablydark chocolate brown but look black in the low light sparkle with bemusement, and that almost smile is knock your socks off divine.
If I were breathing right now, I’d probably forget.
As it is, air is trapped by a mix of lust and mortification. My throat burns with humiliation, but inside my chest, my heart slams against my ribs.
I think he’s the best-looking man I’ve ever seen, and the suit, the dark hair fits my tall, dark, and handsome fantasies and then some.
It’s been so long since I’ve had any action, I might be a virgin again, but I’d take him.
“You know,” he says, leaning in. “It’s not that I didn’t mind the innovative drooling and hand job on my junk, but I do draw the line at my feet. The shoes are new. Italian leather.”
“Wha…?”
Suddenly I look down. I slowly straighten, the now empty jug’s contents are on his shoes and the floor.
I swallow, hard, starting to shake.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry.” I’m not sure what to do so I reach out without thinking, intent on drying that patch on his pants.
His erection.
What the fuck am I even doing?
He snatches my hand, his touch electric, and firm but gentle as he stops me making contact. I look up at him, and his dimple deepens as his almost smile turns real and wicked.
The man uses his thumb to stroke tiny whispers against my inner wrist that threaten to short-circuit my brain.
“Exhibitionism has its place, but I think we can have more fun if you continue playing with my cock somewhere private. The bathroom’s good if you want quick and dirty. And you can get on your knees and fuck yourself stupid on me, get your juices flowing in the best way. Better than water. I mean, if we come out and just ask rather than try and pull off elaborate sex plans, my three Grand shoes wouldn’t be sodden.”
Heat radiates off me. “I spilled water, I didn’t do some sort of weird mating dance.”
“That’s what they call it these days?” The other cheek flirts with a slight dimple, but the left dimple makes me want to drool. It takes some of the sleaze from his words, I don’t know why.
And his voice is the kind I could rub one out to.
I suck in a breath and try to pull back my hand but he doesn’t let go.
“No one’s calling it anything these days but an accident.”
He winks. “I know a come-on when I feel one and you were getting me… primed.”
“I was not.”
He pulls me a little closer, and I breathe him in. Sophisticated sex. Pepper and bergamot and woods, it’s dark places and heat,and I don’t think I could ever get sick of how he smells. “You absolutely were.”
His eyes dare me, the smile teases, and I’m falling into the forward charm. Between my thighs, my pussy tingles, it’s something I haven’t felt in a while, like he’s under my dress lightly stroking over my panties along my slit, making me drip and do some personal soaking of my own.
“N-no,” I say. “I absolutely wasn’t. If I were going to try to get your attention, I’d have just grabbed you.”
I wouldn’t. Not in a million years, but my mouth is speaking on its own, and he laughs. “You did.”
“No, I was cleaning the water.”
“It’ll never hold up in any court of mine. But I’m willing to hear your case if you’re naked—” He stops, the amused look darkens, and his mouth comes close to my ear. “Of course, this might be your MO. Find a victim for your whiles, drown them in water and then give them a hand job to see if they… respond. How many before me?”
