Page 13 of Naughty and Nice

Matt had been surprised when Liza walked in with Davis for the very reasons she just espoused. The man was far too full of himself. However, it was the first thing she said that captured his attention and held it. “Six dates?”

She grimaced, clearly annoyed with herself. “Typically, my bullshit meter works better than that.”

“I suspect you figured him out quicker than most women.”

“Careful, Mr. Russo,” she said in a teasing tone. “That’s dangerously close to a compliment.”

He bowed his head. “I’ll tread lightly.”

Unable to resist, Matt ran the tips of his fingers down the center of her back, feeling her response as she shivered, as she lost the ability to focus for just a moment, obsessed with the touch. She was giving herself over to him, letting him lead the dance, control their movements, their direction, and it was heady, intoxicating to have this woman under his command.

It brought needs he’d buried for so long to the surface.

She was so responsive, so sensitive, so in tune with him, that his cock began to thicken. He needed to get a grip or risk embarrassing himself.

Liza swayed closer, but it didn’t feel intentional or premeditated, like the moves Patricia had been putting on him earlier.

Liza’s actions seemed almost instinctual. Like the pull was too strong to resist.

He recognized it because he felt the same. Placing his palm flat on her back, he let his fingers slide lower, until he found the edge of the material that began only a couple inches above her ass. What would he give to slip his fingers beneath the skirt, to stroke all the way down?

Suddenly, he was curious to know what kind of panties she wore. Liza carried the air of a practical, nice girl, but he’d bet every dollar he had, the naughty woman was wearing a thong right now.

He drew a single fingertip along the edge, watched Liza’s cheeks flush, her lips part, her gaze holding his with just the hint of dare in them.

They remained there, speaking volumes without saying a word. However, before he could answer her unspoken taunt, the song came to an end, and Matt was forced to let her go.

She released an unsteady breath. And then, he watched as she stiffened her spine, gathered her wits, and took back the control she’d entrusted to him during the dance.

Matt wanted to reject the changes in her, to pull her back into his arms, demand that she submit to him, but that way would only lead to disaster. For both of them.

So they left the dance floor, neither of them touching or speaking until they’d reached the bar. If Matt hadn’t been so distracted by her, he would have steered them in a safer direction.

As it was, he guided them both to where Patricia stood.

“You stole my dance partner,” Patricia said to Liza, her tone a bit too loud and laced with accusation.

“Patricia,” Matt said quietly, infusing as much warning as he dared.

“I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you.” She pointedly ignored Liza as she ran her hands over the front of his suit, straightening his bow tie, before stretching up on tiptoe to give him a hard, possessive kiss. “I wouldn’t want you to forget who you’re with tonight.”

Her words chafed, and if he’d harbored an ounce of doubt about ending his association with her, it was gone now.

“Dance with me,” Patricia demanded, grasping his hand in hers and tugging. He wasn’t the type of man to be led around by any woman, but in this instance, he allowed her to do it, simply to get her away from Liza before she made a scene.

He glanced back at Liza…but for the first time, she looked away from him, refusing to hold his gaze.

And he hated it.

Chapter Three

Liza sat watching as the crowd on the dance floor began to thin. Many of the guests had already gone home, calling it a night.

She wished she could do the same.

Glancing over, she saw Matt and Patricia rise, leaving for the night as well. She tried to beat down the ridiculous spark of jealousy she felt when he put his hand on the other woman’s lower back, guiding her out of the ballroom.

That jealousy morphed into an even more unwanted annoyance over the fact he hadn’t bothered to look back at her. She’d gotten too used to his eyes on her tonight and, fool that she was, she was starting to like it.

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