Page 43 of Smoke Show

“I want you, Brady. I want to find out if reality can be better than my imagination.”

His eyes darkened. “Challenge accepted.”

The throaty words buzzed through me, sending a fresh slide of heat to my core.

“What do you like, honey? What turns you on?”

His blunt question made me brave. “I like it when you talk to me. Paint a verbal picture. The naughtier, the better. I like it when you’re stern.”

The words tumbled out, exposing desires I’d never shared with another lover. I held my breath, fearful I’d scare him away. Some men shied away from dirty talk, and my very proper Brady might not be interested.

“Do we need a safe word?” he asked. “I can be firm, but I never want to hurt you. It’s only fun if it’s good for both of us.”

I sighed, relaxing when he seemed to easily accept my wishes.

“I’ll just tell you I want to dial it down if I need to,” I said.

“So, dial it down? That works for me. Don’t be shy,” he commanded. “I want to know if something I do isn’t working for you.”

“Brady, when have I ever been shy with you?” I asked, eyes wide.

“Fair point.”

Eyes gleaming, he let me slide down his body. I hid my whimper at the friction the move generated, sending a fresh rush of slick heat between my thighs.

“Strip for me, Eve. Show me that beautiful body. Let me worship that soft skin, trace every curve and tattoo.” Watching me steadily, he pulled at his tie, stalking back, eyeing me like prey.

I shivered, loving the desire etched in his expression.

Slowly, I reached for the hem of my shirt, peeling it up and over my head before dropping it from numb fingers. Brady matched my move, unbuttoning his dress shirt and dropping it into his laundry basket. His plain undershirt followed, leaving his chest bare.

Swallowing hard, I took in the hard planes of his chest and the smattering of dark hair there, visually tracing the way it arrowed down to disappear beneath his slacks. Brady had long ago lost the softness of youth. His body looked like it had been carved from granite, hard and unforgiving.

“Show me those gorgeous breasts. My very own Eve, sent to tempt me.”

The faint growl in his voice brought me back to myself, and I flicked at the clasp on my bra, peeling it away.

“Now the jeans,” he urged.

I unfastened my pants, shoving them slowly over my hips, imagining the gentle scrape of the fabric scuffing down my legs was Brady’s phantom touch. I stood before Brady in my tiny black bikini underwear and nothing else. Something about the way he bit his bottom lip encouraged me to stand proud when I might have been tempted to cover my nakedness. With Brady, nude felt natural. It was my clothing that felt wrong. Quickly, I stripped my panties down my legs, leaving me free and bare for him.

Brady swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his greedy gaze traced my body like a stroke. He wasn’t even touching me, and I was more turned on than I could remember.

Brady unsnapped his slacks, stepping out of them and his boxers in a single, effortless move.

We stood, not touching, and utterly naked. It should have been awkward. Weird. But something about the way he watched me, like he wanted to devour every inch, made me shiver with desire.

He stalked closer, stopping when we were a hairs-breadth from touching. Unable to resist, I swayed closer, wanting to absorb his heat, to feel the planes of his body crush mine. Not touching him physically hurt, sending an electric prickle beneath my skin. I wanted contact almost more than I wanted my next breath.

“Hold.”

His stern words made me unsteady, caught mid-sway, and I lost my balance, stumbling back against the bed in my efforts to obey.

Brady’s hard tone sent a wave of lust surging through me. The command in his voice shivered along every nerve. I pressed my thighs together, wishing for more than just his voice.

“Touch me,” I invited, tilting my chin up, trying to turn the hint of begging into a note of challenge.

“Everything about you seduces me,” he murmured, sliding a step closer.

---