I’ve got her dress hiked up over her hips. I run my hand over the tops of her bare thighs, reaching for the place between her legs.
“That is a rude assumption.”
“Is it true?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you”—her breath falters when I cup her pussy through the second layer of her outfit, the bodysuit thing—“going to do rude things to me for making it? The assumption?”
“Yes.” Even through the silky fabric, I can feel how hot and damp she is. My dick goes full mast. “I got three bedrooms in this place, plus a billiards room, and I’m gonna fuck you in all of ’em. But first, you gotta tell me how to get this thing off you.”
She laughs, turning around to face me. Her eyes flash, playful and hot, and she grabs the hem of her dress and slowly pulls it over her head, mussing her ponytail in the process.
Eyes on mine, she holds up the dress between her pinched forefinger and thumb. She releases the pinch, fingers straightening as the dress drops to the floor beside her. She plants a hand on my chest and gives me a firm shove, sending me backward so I can take her in.
For several beats, I just stare. I wonder vaguely if I’ve experienced cardiac arrest and am now floating somewhere between heaven and hell.
The bodysuit has suddenly become the sexiest lingerie ever. Combined with the stilettos and her slightly swollen lips, it is a sight to be savored.
And when she starts walking toward me, swaying her hips and smirking?
I am definitely a dead man.
I’m also a giver. I grab her hand and lead her to the billiards room. My butler (yes, the suite comes with twenty-four-hour butler service) must’ve swung by while I was gone because the lights are on and the balls are racked up on the table, ready for a game.
Again, Stevie’s gaze moves to the view outside the windows. Lights twinkle in every color and rhythm, and the outline of the mountainous desert beyond is just visible.
I shove the rack and pair of pool cues aside with my arm. They somersault over the lip of the table and land on the floor with a clatter. Stevie jumps, then smiles.
She plays right into my hand, resting her ass against the edge of the table with a come-hither look in her eyes. I settle my hands on the table on either side of her hips and lean in, drawing my nose up her throat.
“Hey, honey,” I breathe, relieved to finally, finally, have her all to myself.
She takes my face in her hand. “Hey,” she says and covers her mouth with mine.
The kiss is savage, deep, our lips and tongues moving in tandem. I lick my tongue into her mouth again, drawing her chin up as I sip her, then drink her in deep, long pulls that have her fisting my shirt in her hands.
I cup her breast, massaging it. Gently, cursing with the effort to be patient, I work the cup of her bodysuit down, propping her tit above it. I thumb her nipple, and she bites down on my lip.
We both look down at the same time, foreheads touching. We watch as I work the other breast free, both tits propped up for us to savor.
They’re generous, soft, with large, dusky pink nipples.
I groan and duck my head, leaning in to take her right nipple in my mouth. I suck, lathing my tongue over the pebbled point, and she hisses.
Her head falls back. She digs a hand into my hair, panting, and rolls her hips.
She’s begging.
“This too.” I reach around to her back, searching for a clasp, a zipper. “How—”
She reaches behind her and finds my hand, leading it to the zipper at the top of the garment. “Like this,” she says, and together, we guide the zipper down.
Getting on my knees, I help pull it over her hips and down her legs.
My gaze is level with her pussy. Her pubic hair is dark and lush.
It glistens with her arousal.
I look up at her. She’s beautiful, naked save for her heels, and I resist the urge to reach into my pants and give myself a stroke. I’ll come in five seconds flat if I so much as graze my dick, much less jack off.
I put my hands on her thighs and say, “Can I?”
“Can you what?” she pants, cheeks burning pink.
“Here.” I touch my middle finger to the place just beneath her belly button and drag it down, sliding it between her legs. Parting her lips. She’s swollen and soft and perfect. “Can I kiss you here?”
She hesitates, just for a second. Her eyes gleam with something I haven’t seen before. Vulnerability?
Her fingers find my hair again. “You’re famous, you’re hot, and you’re considerate?”
“Total package. I know. Now get on the table and spread your legs.”