Page 84 of Wrong For You

After that performance, she deserves nothing less than hours of simultaneous orgasms. “Do you realize what you’re asking for?”

Harper blesses me with a sultry grin. “Whatever you’re willing to give me.”

Jake pauses in the hallway just outside my bedroom. His white t-shirt rides up when he grips the door frame overhead. The casual pose puts his tattoos and biceps on tantalizing display. Approval dominates his steely expression, but he doesn’t move.

I dig my toes into the plush carpet to stop myself from humping his leg. “Are you going to come in?”

He drags his teeth along his bottom lip, biting the flesh until white blooms over pink. The smolder in his gaze is a match ready to strike a blaze. I feel the heat curling over me like a lover’s caress. My body yearns for his, swaying toward him without conscious permission. His molten focus doesn’t relent as I begin to quiver. Anticipation is a pest whispering in my ear, urging me to shove him onto the bed. But a louder insistence demands patience.

The silence expands to encircle us while our gazes devour one another. It’s a visual feast that leaves me ravenous. That gnawing hunger syncs with the empty pang in my core.

When Jake has eaten his fill, he shifts positions. Muscular arms cross over an equally brawny chest. Drool puddles in my mouth again and I almost slurp to avoid spillage.

“Strip for me, Pitchy. Ditch everything but the locket.” The gravel in his gruff timbre is a sensual tease down my spine.

I shiver from the heat. There’s an urgent fever rushing through my veins. The urge to follow his command sets flames to my clothes. I’m suddenly too hot, but the quiet is distracting.

“Can I turn on music?”

Jake leans against the door at a sexy slant that weakens my knees. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Nerves lump in my throat. “And you’re just going to watch me?”

“For as long as my patience allows. I might rip my clothes to shreds once you’re bare for me.” His hands are already curling into tight fists. The sight of him holding back nudges me into action.

This is just like dancing, which is my passion. There’s no reason for jitters to be somersaulting in my stomach. I can pretend to be on stage for a captivated audience. A pointed glance ahead claims the latter part of my imaginary scene as true. He’s not taking his eyes off me, and I’m not going to give him a reason to.

“Alexa,” I call. “Play Jake and Harper.”

The gentle opening notes of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” begin crooning from the speaker on my dresser. Samantha Harvey’s version hits different. There’s a yearning in her voice that resonates with me. That’s why several of her unique renditions are included.

“You have a playlist named after us?”

My pulse thunders at the pained edge in his question. “I do.”

“Fuuuuuck,” his guttural tone bellows to the ceiling. He whips off his hat to rake through his hair. When his gaze falls on me again, desperation swims in the blue depths. “Please hurry. I can’t wait much longer to make love to you.”

A fresh wave of need rushes to my lower belly. “Me either.”

With the soothing melody to guide me, I drift a finger down the center of my torso. Cotton fabric lifts to expose my stomach at a pace meant to tempt. My nipples harden into stiff peaks from the slinky motion. I stifle a whimper when those sensitive tips rub against my bra. These confining layers need to go before I combust.

While removing my shirt, I let my eyes slide shut to embrace the gentle beat. A chill pebbles my freshly bared skin and I shudder. The fiery lust in my lower belly is quick to smother the prickly sensation.

“Look at me,” Jake rumbles.

A gasp tightens my lungs when our gazes connect. Desire burns in his eyes as he straddles the threshold. His wide stance does little to hide the rigid length bulging alongside his zipper. Shadows dance across his chiseled jaw that’s clenched tight.

“Keep going.” He juts his chin at my pants.

I undo the button fly with a practiced yank. After a sultry wiggle, the denim pools around my ankles. Jake’s unwavering stare on my mostly naked form encourages me to do a lazy twirl. When I’m facing him again, erotic fantasies are playing across his strained features. Carnal passion practically wafts from him. His fraying control is illuminated by the soft glow in my room, contrasting with the darkness behind him. He looks unhinged, and ready to pounce. My inner muscles clench, weeping at the emptiness that begs to be filled. I debate between prolonging the striptease or slicing through the flimsy silk that remains.

Jake makes the decision for me. “Get rid of the rest of it. Now.”

His voice is sandpaper across a rusty surface. The abrasive demand suggests he’s in charge, but I’ve never felt more powerful. I unclasp my bra and let the straps slide down my arms. Once my breasts are free, I hook my fingers into the elastic waistband of my panties. The last item concealing my modesty slips down and off. Cool air kisses my nude flesh. The locket nestled in my cleavage is warm like a brand I wear with honor.

Rather than cower behind my hands, the blatant arousal in Jake’s eyes makes me bold. I toe the discarded lace, kicking the scrap toward him. He catches the thong in midair. My breath stalls when he brings the material to his nose. A starved grumble accompanies his inhale. His eyelids grow heavy as he savors another whiff. The primal act is an unexpected turn-on. I stumble backward until my ass lands on the mattress.

Jake’s predatory stare latches onto mine. “Are you wet for me?”

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