Turn Me On (Man of the Month 7)

"That's my plan." He shifted a bit, as if uncomfortable, then started to walk toward the elevator. She walked beside him, fighting a smile.

"You do realize the trouble you've gotten yourself in? Punishment might be swift and harsh."

"A girl can dream."

He chuckled.

"Don't you need to sign the check?"

He shook his head. "They know me."

"If you say so..."

He laughed. "I promise. It's all good. And right now, I really don't want to wait."

That was a sentiment she could get fully behind, and she fell in beside him as they walked to the elevator. He took her hand as they stepped on, along with another couple so laden down with shopping bags they had to be tourists.

He stood with his back to the wall and tugged her in front of him, then wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her close, nestling them together so tightly that she could feel his erection against the small of her back.

The other couple stood close to the doors, as if wanting to ensure a quick escape. Which meant they weren't looking behind them. Which was probably why they didn't notice when one of Derek's hands snaked over her pelvis, coming to rest right on her pubic bone.

Between that pressure and the sensation of his cock against her back, Amanda half-feared she might explode right then and there. Her body tingled all over, and she was hyperaware of every point of contact with Derek.

She longed to strip naked and feel skin on skin, but that wasn't happening. Not quite yet, anyway. Instead, she bit her lower lip, swallowed, and tried to decide if she hoped the ride to their floor would be fast or very, very slow.

As it turned out, the ride was fast. They were on seven, but so was the other couple. Which meant that there was no privacy for anything more than the intimate position they'd shared in the elevator.

That was enough. As foreplay went, it was pretty damn effective, because by the time they stepped out of the car, Amanda's breasts were tight and sensitive, and her sex ached with a potent need.

As far as she was concerned, he couldn't get the door open fast enough. And when he finally did push it open, she barely had time to hope that things would move fast before he'd pulled her roughly to him and was pulling at her shirt, tugging the light silk shell over her head.

He looked at her then, just for a moment. A sigh slipped from his mouth, and he breathed, "You're so damn beautiful."

"Please," she begged, her own fingers working to untuck his shirt. To feel the hard muscles of his abs beneath her skin.

"I want to touch you. You--oh, God, Amanda, there's something about you that burns inside me. I can't wait. Or maybe I can, but I damn sure don't want to."

"Me neither," she admitted. "Where's your bedroom?"

He took her hand and led them both there. Then he tilted his head as if inspecting her.

"What?"

"I seem to recall you needing a punishment."

"Oh, really? What did you have in mind?"

"Strip for me."

She shook her head. "Nope." She walked in front of him, then stood just inches from where he sat. She wore her heels, her skirt and her bra. Underwear, too, if a tiny, soaked thong counted.

Slowly, she sucked in the tip of her finger. Then she slid it down under the waistband of her skirt to her clit, teasing herself for him to watch. He couldn't see what she was doing, of course, but it didn't matter. His eyes were on her, and the desire she saw there--wild, feral--made her so much wetter.

"You want? Then you undress me." She turned, giving him access to the zipper.

"Baby, I think we're going to have a very good time." He tugged the zipper down, then eased the skirt over her hips. "Beautiful," he murmured, stroking her ass. "Spread your legs, then bend over for me and grab your ankles."

She did, and he got to his knees, then ran his tongue over the curve of her ass as he tugged her thong down, fully exposing her.