All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

“It’s softer in here,” I murmur, dropping his hand so I can run my fingers over the soft bedding. The colors are muted grays and white. It’s still masculine, but much more soothing than the rest of the house.

“Wait until you see the bathroom,” he says with a satisfied grin. I walk through a massive walk-in closet that would give most women wet dreams and gasp at the threshold of the bathroom.

“Jesus,” I whisper. The tub is big enough for a party of four, freestanding against a wall of windows that look out onto the city. “I hope these are privacy windows.”

“Of course.” He’s leaning his shoulder on the doorjamb, watching me with a half smile on his lips. “I’m not an exhibitionist.”

“Good to know.”

There’s an empty vanity table with a pretty gray velvet chair. It would be a great place to get ready for work or a night out.

The cabinetry and countertops are as opulent as the rest of the condo, and once again I’m reminded of just how different Quinn and I are.

But the insecurity doesn’t fill me the way it did the other night. Instead, I feel proud of him. He was right, he does work hard, and he shouldn’t ever have to apologize for having nice things.

“This is a beautiful room,” I murmur, then turn to find that his eyes have turned from lazy and happy to fierce and full of lust. “What?”

“When you bite your lip like that, it makes me want to bite it.”

I feel my brows climb, and I tilt my head to the side, watching him. His hands are in his pockets, as usual. I love how the muscles in his forearms flex, as if he’s fisting and unfisting his hands with agitation.

“You say what’s on your mind, don’t you?”

“I’m not one for bullshit.”

And that’s why I’m so attracted to him. Aside from the fact that the man has a body that should come with a warning label, I like that he speaks his mind, and that I don’t have to guess what he’s thinking.

And by the way he’s looking at me right now, I’d say he wants me naked.

Usually being the one to let the man take the lead, I don’t know that I’ve ever been this bold in my life, but Quinn gives me confidence. He makes me feel beautiful. Powerful.

It’s as intoxicating as the liquor he served me when we first arrived.

With my eyes pinned to his, I reach behind me and lower the zipper of my simple black dress. Thank God it’s easy to get in and out of. As soon as the zipper is lowered, it falls in a billowy heap around my feet, and I’m standing before him in a strapless black bra, tiny black lacy panties, and a smile.

He swallows hard. Twice.

Then he pushes away from the doorway and reaches out for my hand, which I take and step out of the dress.

“You’re going to keep those shoes on,” he murmurs as he leans in and presses his lips to mine. “Everything else goes.”

Before I can reply, he sweeps me up in his arms and walks into the bedroom, where the light beside the bed is low, and we can see the city glow through another wall of windows.

“More privacy glass,” he assures me before kissing me tenderly just above my collarbone. He’s still holding me as he pulls the covers back, then lays me down in the middle of the bed, leaving me in my underwear and shoes so he can shuck out of his own clothes.

The light flickers over his body, and I lean up on my elbows to take in the show. Holy shit. He’s all smooth, bronze skin and lean muscle. He has a light spattering of hair on his chest, and a happy trail that leads down to, well, a treasure.

I immediately reach out for his cock, but he intercepts my hand, kisses it, and climbs over me, kissing his way up my torso.

“If you touch me now,” he says between peppering kisses over my stomach, “I’ll lose my control, and that would be embarrassing.”

“So, you get to touch me, but I don’t get to touch you?” My breath catches when he tugs my bra down and he traces the edge of my nipple with the tip of his tongue.

“Correct.”

“I object.”

He smiles up at me and hooks my panties in his thumbs, pulling them down my legs.

“Overruled,” he replies. He buries his nose in my panties, takes a deep breath, then tosses them over his shoulder and spreads me wide.

Holy fuck.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he whispers as his thumbs glide up through my already wet folds. He circles my clit, then his fingers move down and plunge inside me as he nibbles on the inside of my thigh.

“Oh, God,” I moan, my hips circling. He hitches my leg over his shoulder, and I have to admit, it looks damn sexy with that shoe. “The shoes were a good call.”