Tempting

But he wouldn’t.

I already trust him not to hurt me.

Trust him with almost everything.

I want to give my body over to him.

To be his.

To lose track of everything but his words, his touch, his kiss.

He pulls my dress over my thighs. “What do you want, angel?”

The pet name makes me blush. Words rise up in my throat, but they’re a tangled mess. I want everything.

“You want your hands around my cock?”

“Yes.”

“Your lips?”

“Yes.”

“You want to come on my cock?”

“Everything, Brendon. Everything.”

“Then go to my room, take off your dress, and wait for me on the bed.” His voice drops back to that demanding tone.

His expression changes. More in control.

More everything.

He gives me a long once-over. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Kaylee

Now. I’m going to go to his bed and strip now.

Why does that set me on fire?

I’m hot everywhere.

Every part of me is desperate to strip in Brendon’s room. To wait for him. To be on display for him.

It’s scary how much I want to follow his orders.

But it’s too exhilarating for me too care.

I make my way up the stairs, down the hall, into his room.

It’s quiet. Empty. Just that big four-poster bed, the dresser, the desk in the corner.

I undo my zipper, step out of my dress, and sit on the bed.

My reflection is there, staring back at me from the mirror opposite his bed. I never thought about its placement, but now it makes perfect sense.

It’s so he can watch.

So I can watch.

I stare back at reflection Kaylee. Her eyes are on fire. Her knees are pressed together. Her chipped nails are sinking into her thighs.

All of her—all of me is already begging for release.

I bite my tongue. My bottom lip. My index finger.

Nothing takes the edge off.

I need him here.

Touching me.

Kissing me.

Fucking me.

Now.

I cross my legs. Uncross them. Press them together. Pry them apart.

It only amplifies the ache between them.

I can’t wait any longer.

I’m going to burst if I don’t get him now.

There are footsteps downstairs. They’re far away. They stay far away for too long.

Then they move closer.

Up the stairs.

Down the hall.

He pulls the door open and shuts it behind him.

It’s just us, alone in here, the rest of the world far away.

It’s just me and Brendon alone in his bedroom.

About to have sex.

Fuck, it’s hot in here. I’m so wracked with desire I can barely move.

“Good girl.” His voice is heavy with approval.

It makes my sex clench.

He moves toward me. “Stand up.”

I do.

“Turn around.”

It’s strange, spinning on my heels, but I like everything about the heat of his gaze.

He runs his fingers over the waistband of my panties. “Fucking beautiful, angel.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“Look at me.”

I turn back to him. I study every inch of him. The intensity in his dark eyes. The short, dark hair. Perfect for my hands. Perfect for pulling when his face is between my legs.

Where the hell did that come from?

Some dirty version of me is taking over.

One who demands what she wants.

One without nerves or hang-ups.

“Take off your bra,” he commands.

I hesitate. But I need more of that look in his eyes—the one that says the sight of me sets him on fire.

I reach behind my back to unhook my bra then let it fall off my shoulders.

I’m topless for him.

On display for him.

He drinks me in like I’m cool water and he’s a desert traveler. He savors every inch of me. Then his gaze fixes on my chest.

“Fuck, Kay. You have no idea how much I want those nipples in my mouth.”

“Why don’t you?”

“This first.” He drags his hand over my side. His touch is soft. Slow. With utmost control.

He cups my breast with his hand. His thumb stops just short of my nipple.

It’s a tease.

A delicious, agonizing tease.

He draws circles with his thumb, so, so close to where it needs to be. He does it until I’m panting. Until I’m clutching at his t-shirt.

Then he moves to my other breast and does it again.

Again.

Again.

“Brendon,” I breathe. “Please.”

“Take off your panties.”

I slide them off my hips. Kick them from my ankles.

He drags his hand down my side, over my hip. “Turn around.”

This time, I don’t hesitate.

“Touch the ground.”

My… Uh…

“Now.”

I must be going out of my mind. Because I’m not stopping him. I’m not saying what’s wrong with you?

There isn’t a single part of me that objects.

I want to be on display for him.

This on display for him.

I roll from my hips as slowly as I can.

There.

My fingers skim the hardwood.

Then it’s my palms.

Thank God for my exercise routine. I can hold this position for as long as I need to.

He moves closer. So his crotch is against mine. So I can feel his hard-on against my sex.

He’s hard from the sight of me.

Fuck, it’s thrilling.

Intoxicating.

Those damn jeans are in the way, but still, that’s Brendon pressed against me.