Sleight of Hand (Blackbridge Security 7) - Page 37

She smiles, her attitude improving.

“To charity.” She clinks my glass before taking her shot.

I hold mine still suspended between us and watch her lips on the glass, her neck working on the swallow. She has to be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. Even in her no-nonsense blouse and black slacks, her three-inch pumps and sophisticated pearl necklace, she’s sexy, understated in a classy way. Modest and appealing in a way that makes me want to dirty her up, corrupt her until her makeup is running down her face and she’s begging me for more.

She likes bossy and a little rough, and I want to give that to her for hours. My cock thickens when her eyes find mine again.

“Are you going to drink that?”

I nod, tilting the shot to my lips, and then I see it, the same look in her eyes as I swallow.

She may hate me, but she still wants me. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t help it. I’m in the same damn boat, a slave to my body, a captive to the urges I can’t seem to control around her despite knowing just how terrible an idea all of this is.

“I want to fuck you again,” I whisper, the bar not busy enough to speak those words at full volume.

Or maybe I’m hoping she won’t hear me in case I’m reading the situation wrong, and we aren’t on the same page. She doesn’t slap me. She doesn’t stand and storm away. She flags the bartender down again, asking for two shots each this time. I don’t argue even when the alarms are going off in my head, telling me that there’s a reason she’s needing more alcohol to end up in my bed tonight. That she’s going to regret it in the morning and Gaige Ward doesn’t deal in regrets. Good times and pleasure are what I’m about, but my mouth stays closed, lips firmly locked tight because I want her so badly, need her like I’ve never needed anything more in my life.

There isn’t a ceremonial lift of the glasses when those shots are poured, nor a toast. She lifts one in each hand and throws them back, one right after the other, and I have to lift each of mine quickly when she starts to eye them, looking like she wants to take them as well. Drunk sex is one thing but having her pass out before we get to the room is another.

“Okay,” she says.

“What?” I shake my head in confusion.

“I want to fuck you, too.”

She’s steadier on her feet than I feel when she stands, and much like we did on the first night we met, I place my hand on her back, wanting to fist pump the air when she doesn’t cringe away from me. I’m counting it as a win as we walk to the elevator. We don’t make out on the ride up to the rooms, but I want my hands and mouth all over her. I wonder if she can feel the sexual tension floating around us because my cock is straining in my slacks, knowing the zipper is going to be imprinted on the length of my cock.

My room is closest to the elevator, so that’s where we end up, as if walking the additional four feet is just too far. I unlock my door and guide her into the room. I stumble just inside, wondering if turning on the light would be too much. Would it break this spell, make her change her mind? I probably should. Maybe being a gentleman would tip the scale in my favor, gain a little credit in the plus column.

I don’t turn on the main light, opting to flip the switch in the bathroom instead because not seeing her at all isn’t an option. She’s too fucking glorious in nothing but her skin to miss.

She’s not even close to changing her mind, I realize as I stand near the door watching her fingers work open the button of her silky blouse, revealing the lace that has been teasing me all damn day when her shirt shifted just right and teased the fabric with whispers of sexiness.

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, more in an effort to concentrate as she tries to kick off her shoes and unbutton her slacks at the same time than trying to be sultry, but it works both ways. I take a half-step toward her before stopping. I want to peel every piece of clothing from her body, but even in my muddled state, I know I need her to be the one to do this.

In what seems like years but is probably only a few minutes, she’s standing in front of me in nothing but lace panties and that sexy bra. She’s mouth-wateringly beautiful. My eyes sweep her from head to toe, cock throbbing with each pulse of my rapidly beating heart.

Tags: Marie James Blackbridge Security Erotic
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