Page 36 of Mr. Scandalous

She simply couldn’t wait to go back.

* * *

A hundred-dollar hand job!

Alec could not stop thinking about what had happened at the Grand Duchess. All morning long he’d sat in his office mooning over Eden. He had been so uninvolved in the day’s business that Holden had come to stand in the doorway three separate times to ask him if he was okay.

Although he’d assured his assistant he was fine, Alec was far from okay. He’d been ambushed, bushwhacked, surprise-attacked, and he’d loved every damned second of it.

Eden Montgomery far exceeded his expectations. She was beyond naughty. The woman was a virtual firecracker sending him into orbit with her advanced pyrotechnics. He told himself he was overstating the case, that last night had been so incredible simply because it had been a long time since he’d been with anyone, but he couldn’t deny the truth.

Everything about her appealed to him. Her sexy-yet-sweet scent, the fact that he knew hardly anything about her, her earthy voice and her ability to change like a chameleon.

Plus, her scintillating sex games drove him wild.

She’d teased him, pleased him, and then she’d walked out the door. Her disappearing act drove him nuts. Why had she gone to such lengths to seduce him with her salacious call-girl foreplay only to leave before she’d had her turn?

Was it all part of some master plan to blow his ever-loving mind?

Because it was working.

Bid time.

He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her again. He was antsy to unearth her secret fantasies and serve them up to her on a platter. A shudder passed through him as he recalled the feel of her fingers on his body, and he had to close his eyes to fight off an erection.

Eden’s early departure had simply whetted his appetite, which he supposed was exactly what she’d intended. But come Saturday night, he was going to the Grand Duchess fully prepared to turn the tables on her.

* * *

Two weeks passed in a glorious blur. Eden alternated between seeking Jayne’s expert advice on exactly how to please her new lover and putting those brilliant techniques into operation.

At work, she labored over her newly inspired gift baskets. Her customers commented on the improvements and orders picked up.

And she owed it all to Alec.

Shamelessly he indulged her, giving her any and everything she asked for.

Except one.

He refused to let her bring him to orgasm until she let him make her come. “No more of this one-sided stuff,” he’d said in a growly voice.

But Eden had declined to get naked in front of him. Partly because she still didn’t trust him not to bolt at the sight of her scars and partly because the long, drawn-out seduction was so damned thrilling. Once they consummated their lust, she feared it would ruin the sexual tension.

“Wait,” she’d said. “Wait.”

And so, they both suffered. Twice a week they met to up the stakes with their sex games, the ante growing with each new encounter as they teased and taunted, dragging out the suspense as they tugged each other to the edge of insanity and beyond.

Ah, sweet torture.

They watched a soft-core porn movie together and Eden read to him from books of erotic poetry. They kissed and fondled each other through their clothing. Her imagination detonated and her games became increasingly more titillating.

She invented foot-fetish night, complete with foot massages, pedicures and the most mind-blowing sensation she’d experienced to date—toe sucking. Who knew having her toes licked and sucked and rubbed would unearth a minefield of erogenous zones? Her soles, heels, Achilles tendons, all tingled and throbbed and begged for attention.

And when she slid her tongue between his fresh, clean toes and boldly nibbled with a light pressure, Alec actually came. Knowing she could do that to him just by ticking his feet made her feel desirable and powerful and fully in charge.

Hanky-panky picnic night was Alec’s idea. They streamed9 ½ Weeksand ordered room service at the Grand Duchess. They fed each other pepperoni pizza with their fingers, nurturing their developing appetites. They let the sweet, sticky juices from plump strawberries drip over their hands and down from their mouths. They lingered over each and every morsel of food, savoring the flavoring, describing to each other the different tastes and contrasting textures. Sweet and sour. Hot and cold. Soft and crunchy. She’d never focused so intently on food before.

Alec leaned her head back and dropped grapes into her mouth. The sweet fruit made a satisfying plop-plop sound against her tongue.

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