Page 6 of Thiago
“Smart,” he said, sounding impressed.
Again, there was a niggle of guilt for lying.
The deception had started by accident. One night, she had bought dinner and served the meal on ceramic plates. When Thiago saw the plates, he assumed she had cooked the meal. He had been deeply appreciative and surprised she had gone to so much trouble for him.
She hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she’d bought takeout, and so the deception continued every Friday night they had spent together since then.
India poured a glass of wine and handed it to Thiago.
“Thank you,” he murmured, tugging on his tie.
“I have to finish getting dressed, so?—”
“Finished getting dressed? Are you naked under there?” He tilted his head to one side, examining her intensely, as if he was trying to see through the lavender kimono.
India decided to tease him. “Not completely. I’m wearing this.” She pulled aside the robe and exposed her thigh and a hint of black lace up to her waist.
“Is that new?”
Thiago put down his glass and reached for her, but she slapped away his hand and backed up. He arched an eyebrow.
“I don’t know if we should have sex tonight,” she said, though her body was already craving his touch. She had been angry earlier in the day, but in a way, arguing was like foreplay for them.
Thiago smirked. “You are not still upset about what happened at work, are you?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. So I’m going to get dressed and decide how the evening will proceed.” She spoke with calculated coolness but didn’t move an inch.
He slowly walked toward her, like the predator he was.
“Thiago,” India warned, backing up.
He ignored her, moving closer until she hit the wall.
Locking eyes with her, Thiago loosened the knot at her waist and let the robe fall open.
The black teddy covered the important bits, but barely. Her nipples and the space between her thighs were hidden, but the sheer lace clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination and putting her rich brown skin on full, tantalizing display.
India straightened her back so her full breasts sat up higher, holding her breath as she awaited his response.
Thiago’s nostrils flared, his eyes trailing down her body in male appreciation. “Thisisnew, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice thick and husky as his fingers trailed along the edge of lace stretched over her breasts. “I like this design. I see you, but I don’t see you.” The tip of his finger smoothed over her nipple.
He bent his head and kissed the crest of her breast, his beard brushing her soft skin and making her breath catch.
India pressed a hand in the middle of his chest, pushing him back. “I didn’t say you could kiss me.”
“You did not say I couldn’t.” He caught both her wrists in one hand and stretched them above her head. “You don’t have to bother getting dressed,” he informed her in a low voice.
“Oh? And why not?” India whispered, her breathing shallow as sexual excitement coursed through her like liquid fire.
“We have more important things to take care of.”
“Which are?” India whispered, unable to look away, captured by the intensity in his dark eyes.
“My need for you. Your need for me.” He pressed his arousal against her stomach, and desire throbbed at her core.
Thiago kissed the tip of her nose and then teased her with a swipe of his tongue across her lips.
India lifted one leg to grind against his hardness. Her breathing labored as she savored this erotic dance with him, she panted, “Don’t tear this like you did the last one.”
