Page 33 of Mr. Scandalous

Then she relaxed her mouth, slightly parted her lushly painted lips and slipped her tongue between her teeth in a gesture so provocative he almost shot his load right then and there.

“No.” She made a purring noise, low and throaty. “No underwear here. You interested or not?”

His gaze locked on her thighs, his mind racing as he imagined the treats that awaited him on the other side of that skirt.

“I don’t have five hundred dollars on me,” he said, playing along.

“If you don’t have the cash, stop wasting my time.” She stood. “I don’t do Venmo.

“Wait, wait.” He reached out a hand to touch her wrist. The minute made contact, Alec’s hand sizzled and burned. “What can I get for a hundred bucks?”

She crooked a finger at him. “Come with me.”

Surprised that he could even put one foot in front of another, Alec removed his jacket and carried it in front of him to hide his gigantic erection. With his gaze locked on her beautiful butt, he followed Eden to the elevators.

The sense of reckless abandon pushed him headlong into self-indulgent excesses with this stunning woman. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget her.

The elevator settled with a muted ding and the doors whispered open. People got off and then Eden took his hand and led him inside.

With one of those dangerously long fingernails, she lightly trailed a line up the inside of his forearm. Who would have ever thought a gentle scratch would feel so incredible?

Her touch blasted a whole new language through his body as he imagined those hard-tipped fingernails exploring the tender parts of him.

The elevator stopped on the eighth floor, and she led him to the end of the hallway. She extracted a key card from her purse. Tresses from her long blond wig fell forward over her shoulder as she bent to open the door.

Her bold sexual confidence belied the reticence that had led her to reject him at the French restaurant. She was a complex and complicated woman with obviously two strong but opposing impulses that drove her.

He wanted to know what they were. That hungry curiosity nearly shoved him over the edge of reason. He couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for him.

She’d started this strange dance, this mesmerizing game, but damn if he wasn’t committed to finishing it.

After turning the doorknob, she stepped over the threshold and flicked on the light. “You comin’?” she asked, staying in character with her street-tough accent.

“Uh-huh.” He hustled inside and the door snapped closed behind him.

In the muted glow of lamplight, his gaze raked over the tight clothes, emphasizing every shape and contour of her body. His eyes flicked from her breasts to her legs to her butt and back again.

“Like what you see?” she asked.

“Very much.”

“If you want to see more, you’ve got to show me the green.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a foot.

The woman could have been an actress, she was that damned good. Feeling for all the world like a sheepish John paying for the favors of a lady of the night, Alec pried his wallet from his back pocket and took out a hundred-dollar bill.

She plucked the money from his hand and tucked it down the front of her blouse, where Benjamin Franklin ended up nestling next to the rose tattoo.

“Take off your shirt.” She plunked down in a chair, crossing her knees and swinging her leg provocatively.

“I thought you were going to show me more.”

“You first.”

Alec tossed his jacket on the dresser and then unbuttoned his shirt cuffs. His fingers migrated to the buttons at his throat, and he was surprised to find he felt weirdly ambivalent about this and sort of shy. It was an alien sensation, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

But he did like the frankly sexual gleam in her eyes as she watched him strip off his shirt.

“Nice pecs. You work out?”

---