Page 15 of Legal Seduction
She touched her hip, pulling down the tab of the zipper until her wool skirt dropped to her feet.
His breath escaped in a gasp.
Her underwear was lace, too—black like the camisole and the bra beneath it. Then she tugged the camisole up and over her head until it fell to the floor atop the skirt.
“Damn,” he cursed her. She tested his control in a way it had never been tested before. He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t shut out the image of her standing before him in that sexy black underwear. Her breasts nearly overflowed the cups of that black bra, and those cups were held together with only a bow.
He had to know. So he opened his eyes again, and he spun her around. Just as he’d suspected, there was a bow at the top of her luscious ass holding together the lace panel at the front of her panties to the tiny panel in the back.
And the control he’d fought so hard to regain snapped completely. He’d intended to seduce her, but she was the one seducing him. “Bette, what the hell are you doing?”
* * *
Bette couldn’t answer his question because she had no idea what the hell she was doing, either. Despite what she’d said, that she was just drunk enough, she would be able to remember with perfect clarity what she’d just done, how she’d just undressed for him...
And worse yet, he wasn’t drunk at all, so he would remember, as well. He stepped closer to her, and his hands gripped her shoulders. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked again, his voice gruff while his eyes were completely black. The pupils had swallowed his blue irises whole.
“I’m a horrible poker player,” she said. “So I just saved myself the trouble.”
“I didn’t think you wanted to play.”
She was playing a very dangerous game. She wanted Simon Kramer to think she was in love with him, so that he’d cut short her two-week notice. She didn’t want to actually fall for him.
Of course she was in no danger of that. She knew him far better than he knew her. No woman ever held his interest for very long. Since he hadn’t even noticed her the past two years, she was surprised she had his interest right now.
Maybe that was because of the underwear...
He stared at the bow between the cups of her bra. And she smiled as pride surged through her. The pride was in the design, though. And maybe in the fact that she knew she had his attention now.
His full attention.
“I never said I didn’t want to play,” she reminded him. “I just thought we were supposed to be working.”
“It’s working,” he said, his hands sliding from her shoulders down her bare arms. “Whatever game you’re playing is working.”
She widened her eyes and feigned innocence. “What game? I told you I’m no good at poker.”
He narrowed his eyes and studied her face. “Oh, I think you’re a damn good poker player, Bette Monroe.”
She reached for his tie and tugged the knot loose. “Then you better take off your clothes, too...” She moved her fingers to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them like she’d undone her cardigan. “Since you’re losing.”
“I am losing,” Simon said, his chest rising and falling with his erratic breathing. “You’ve completely taken control.”
She smiled again at the frustration and desire she heard in his voice. Her fingers skimmed down his washboard abs to the buckle of his belt.
“No,” he said, and his hand caught hers. “You don’t understand.”
“What?” she asked. “What don’t I understand?”
“Idon’t lose control,” he told her.
She smiled but assured him, “You haven’t.” He hadn’t even touched her. Maybe the underwear wasn’t as sexy as she’d thought it was, as it made her feel.
“If you’re just playing some game with me, you better stop,” he told her. “Because I really—genuinely—want you.” For two years she’d wondered what it would feel like to have him look at her the way she looked at him, with appreciation and attraction. He was so damn handsome that he was actually beautiful. Beautifully masculine. Muscles rippled beneath her touch as she tugged her hands from his and skimmed her palms up his chest to push his shirt and suitcoat from his broad shoulders. Muscles rippled in his arms, too, when he shrugged it off.
For two years she’d dreamed about him turning his attention to her, about him seducing her as he’d seduced so many other women into losing their minds and hearts to him. She knew he didn’t want either her mind or her heart, though. So they would be quite safe from him. He wanted only her body. And she wanted his.
She had been so busy lately that she hadn’t had any time to date. It had been a while for her since she’d had sex with anything not battery-operated. And it had never been Simon. She wanted to experience his notorious sexual prowess while she had the opportunity. And she didn’t have to worry about losing her job afterward. She actually hoped that she did.
