When Staci Takes Charge (Leave Your Shoes On 2)

He liked how forthcoming she was about everything in her life. And he felt the connection between them on so many levels. Even when they lapsed into quiet moments, Evan was content to just sit by her and enjoy the smell of her, the nearness of her.

There was something extremely powerful building between them, and he didn’t fight it. Didn’t question it. Just let it exist and grow.

When the credits rolled on the movie they’d both agreed on, Evan shut down the system while Staci closed up the boxes and put the excess in his fridge. He poured them more wine. She returned to the living room, looking particularly chipper.

As she joined him and sipped from her glass, he asked, “What’s with the cat-who-just-ate-the-canary grin?”

“Jean texted the confirmation that we’re in at Le Jules Verne for a nine o’clock seating.”

“Nice. We’re wheels up at five a.m. on Monday morning from here. We’ll get into Paris around six thirty in the evening and head to the restaurant. If your schedule allows, we can spend Tuesday in Paris and fly back Wednesday morning.”

Staci set her glass on an end table. “I spoke with my VP of Operations earlier. She’s assured me that everything is under control, and I trust her completely. So there’s absolutely nothing keeping me from Paris, you, and a little romance.”

“A little? Baby, this is Paris we’re talking about.”

She laughed. It was music to his ears. “I’m still acclimating. That kiss you laid on me at Jean Marquis…in public…all those eyes on us…”

“Not the norm for me, either. But isn’t that the way this is all supposed to go? Impulsive and crazed and…” He reached for her and pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely. Then added, “Passionate.”

“Oh, I’m all for the passion.” She straddled his lap, her skirt hitching up. Her fingers plowed through his hair. “What you did to me last night was hot. I’m game for whatever else you have in mind.”

“I have plenty in mind. You definitely inspire some extremely wicked fantasies.” His arms wrapped around her waist, and he stood. Her legs wound around his hips, and he carried her to the fur rug spread out on the hardwood floor before the fireplace. He eased her down, then grabbed several plump pillows and dropped them on the rug. He shed his clothes while she watched, her tongue darting out and gliding over her lower lip.

Then he removed her dress and lingerie, but kept the boots on. They were damn sexy.

Evan’s testosterone level spiked as he flipped her onto her stomach and admired her gorgeous ass and that satiny, honey-colored skin. He guided her onto all fours and positioned himself behind her. He palmed her cheeks and spread them wide. Then he dipped his head and ran his tongue along her already-slick folds.

She gasped. Her body jolted.

“Evan,” she said, “I know exactly how good you are at this. Don’t make me beg for—”

His tongue whisked over her quivering flesh once more. She let out a squeal of delight.

He spread her lips and flicked his tongue over her clit.

“Oh, God, yes,” she said as she settled on the rug with her forearms propping her up, her spine arched, her ass in the air. “Eat my pussy.”

He licked feverishly, instantly captivated by the smell of her, the taste of her. The way she moaned and gasped. The way her hips rocked back to press against his mouth.

He suckled her clit, and she ground against him. His tongue fluttered, and then he suckled again.

She was wet and her skin was hot. Evan devoured the bounty she offered, his tongue dipping into her opening, swirling, then returning to her clit. Her sharp pants and small cries of pleasure spurred him on.

“You’re so damn good,” she whimpered. “Oh, God. Evan, make me come.”

His tongue flitted over her clit again, then his lips teased hers.

“You’re so cruel,” she mock-complained. “You know exactly what I want. Give it to me.”

His tongue pressed to her clit and flickered over it. He drew her swollen clit into his mouth once more, and that was all it took. She called out his name as she came against his lips, his tongue.

“Jesus, Evan,” she said in a breathy voice.

As her body still trembled, he slipped two fingers into her wet pussy and pumped quickly. His other hand slid around to the front of her and he rubbed her clit while stroking her inner walls. Everything about her was tight and tantalizing, and all Evan could focus on was pushing her to the edge again. She bucked against him, riding his fingers, clenching them and hungrily deriving as much pleasure as she could.

“Come again,” he said. “I want you wet and ready for me.”

She moaned. He picked up the pace.