The Satin Sash

“But Heath is your name.”

“It’s Heathcliff, baby, but tonight I am Heath just for you, and you are Toni just for me. Understood?”

“O-okay.”

He kissed her lips again, caressed her little breasts with the dark, beaded nipples. “You like that,Toni?”

“I-I feel weird.”

“Don’t.” He stroked her nipples with his thumbs, tonguing her mouth as he went deeper into the fantasy. “I really want you,Toni. It’s all I can think about.”

“Heath.”

“Oh, baby, yes, say my name.”

Heath groaned at the reminder. So many nights wanting her.

Now he had a face to go with his fantasies, and it was lovely. Unforgettable.

He predicted coming to it, alone at night while he worked his pained cock, thinking of that lovely face—over and over.

He’d never doubted Toni would be special. Grey wasn’t one to be easily impressed. His partner’s fine taste was legendary. The woman to win him over had to be perfect.

But what had struck Heath most at the benefit was discovering that Toni wasn’t one of Grey’s long- legged models. She was petite and lively, and the second those large catlike eyes had risen to his, bringing to view lips wide and plump enough to rim a man’s cock, Heath’s mouth had run dry.

She was no duchess. She was no porn star. She was your average girl next door, out on a special evening in her knockout red dress. And he wanted her.

He couldn’t begin to describe the way she’d felt against him when he’d had her in his arms and she angled her head back and smiled. . . .

And am I supposed to know who you are?

The heat of that smile poured through him like sunshine. He’d have taken those lips with his if she weren’t Grey’s.

Grey’s girl . . .

Either the bravest woman Heath had ever met, or the biggest, sweetest, most beautiful little fool.

Grey’s talk of her had gotten him excited, aroused, titillated by the faceless woman who made Heath want something. But staring do

wn at those eyes, he’d been slammed. In the chest and in the groin. And with every ounce of his being, he’d wanted her. He’d wanted that fruity, peachy-scented woman with the impish smile wrapped all over him.

If she were anyone’s woman but his partner’s, nothing would have stopped Heath from having her. He’d have her right here, sprawled under him.

He’d make her laugh. He’d lick her up. He’d stroke the inside of her creamy thighs and move slowly inside her. He’d make her forget to breathe.

The way she’d responded to him . . .

She’d blushed and squirmed as he held her, but she’d been melting in his arms. Heath didn’t know if Grey spoke to her about him or not. He didn’t know if she, like him, was affected by the mere sound of his voice. Lately just the mention of her name. But he knew she was affected by his presence.

Toni wanted him.

Heath wanted her.

Grey had been informed.

He was going crazy with combined dread and anticipation. Would Grey do anything about it? Grey was so hard to read, so intensely contained to the world....

The thought that his partner could at this moment have a naked Toni in his arms made Heath ache for a prostitute. Both his heads hurt.