Page 59 of Seven Nights

“Take your coat off,” I order. “Slowly.”

She loosens her grip on the material then wiggles her shoulders. The fabric slides down her biceps. Beneath the coat, she wears a thin dress of scarlet silk. Modern fashion being what it is, I’m not sure if it is a nightgown or something meant for the clubs. But the bodice is insubstantial and the neckline is low enough I can see she isn’t wearing a bra.

I swallow the lump in my throat. She’s sexy as hell, but a protective impulse makes me want to turn her over my knee for traveling alone, at night, dressed as she is.

“Baby, how did you get here?”

She offers a sly smile and a cocked brow, but no explanation.

I decide to deal with the question—and lack of an answer—later.

“Finish,” I rumble with a nod at the coat.

The material slides lower down her arms, reaches her waistline. All the blood in my body shoots straight to my dick. Lightheaded, I close my eyes for a second. When I open then, I find she has stopped disrobing and is waiting to continue.

“Go on,” I rasp.

The outline of her hips comes into view and then her thighs. The “dress” stops seven or eight inches up from her knee.

We’re definitely going to have a safety talk, but not right now.

She tosses the coat behind her, but keeps its sash.

“Put it to the side,” I order.

She drapes it against the mattress.

“Turn around, legs straight, palms flat on the bed.”

She moves to comply and I watch, breath trapped in my lungs, as the hem of the dress crawls up the back of her thighs.

Before she is fully in position, Katelyn jerks straight, her attention fixed on something about the surroundings that she has just now noticed.

I follow the direction of her gaze. She is staring at the bedside table like a leprechaun is perched atop it.

A leprechaun—or a mermaid.

“Griffin…is that…”

The monotone of her voice, the look on what I can see of her face—together, they strike a moment’s panic in my chest.

“Yes,” I confess. “I’ve had it a couple of weeks. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was trying to bribe you back into my bed…again.”

Katelyn floats over to the table. She reaches for the lamp, but her hands are shaky and she pulls them back to her sides. Guessing her intent, I turn the overhead light on then join her. With a delicate touch, I rotate the lamp so she can see the number on the bottom.

“Your auctioneer wouldn’t give up the customer, but the piece’s number was part of the public record.”

She nods and I carefully place it back on the table.

“Love, if it was the wrong thing to do, I’m sorry.”

Her hands haven’t stopped shaking. Every tremor is an icepick jabbing at my chest. Her arms lift and cross her chest. Her hands wrap around her shoulders.

“Can I hug you?” she asks, already hugging herself.

If I thought the tremors were painful to watch, the question slays me. I feel like a shit that she has to ask, especially with that little hitch to her voice indicating she’s worried I’ll deny the request.

I fold her to me, my arms around her back. I have to force myself not to squeeze too hard. She slides her arms around my waist and squeezes with all her strength. Her head tilts back. I claim her mouth. She surrenders soft and sweet, melting into me, little gurgles of pleasure bubbling in her throat as her knees go weak.

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