Teasing Her Seal

“And then I go home.” She stared at him expectantly.

“Sure.” Getting started on those nights suddenly seemed like a great idea. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, leaning in closer because he needed to know her answer.

“What fantasy would you pick tonight?”

* * *

LANEY WAS WET. She wanted more kisses. And she definitely didn’t want to feel alone in needing more from him.

So why was she still fully dressed?

“I need an answer.” His mouth hovered inches from hers, though, as if negotiating wasn’t what he had in mind. Good. She had big plans for that incredible mouth of his, plans that involved sliding her tongue along his lips and then possibly nipping at his lower lip. Biting him. She wasn’t sure of the details of said plan, but how hard could it be to figure out? She gave it five minutes tops before he lost his clothes.

But then he didn’t kiss her again, which was a damn shame. Somehow, she had to spell her fantasy out for him. She inhaled, but the air didn’t help. Instead, she smelled Gray, a scent that was all male underlain with the tang of something metallic and the sea. Whatever he got up to in his spare time, it didn’t involve patchouli oils. She could imagine him outside, running or pounding through the surf. He was the kind of man who pushed his body hard, not accepting any weakness. If he’d been a caveman, he’d have been the best catch, the leader of the pack and the baddest-ass hunter of them all. He was going to be hers, and how awesome was that?

“You have to ask for what you want.” Sex on the beach. Gray’s money was on that particular drink. They were at a tropical resort, and he had a beach handy. She certainly wasn’t going to be picking anything with a classy name like Screw Me Sidewise. Not that he’d actually be able to figure out the logistics of that one.

“Leather and Lace.” She peeped up at him.

“Say that again?” She’d better be lace in this scenario.

“Leather and Lace,” she repeated, and this time there was no mistaking the pink in her cheeks. Her chin went up and she glared at him. “You asked me what I wanted. That’s it.”

“Give it to me in detail.” He could use a few more words here, plus she was digging into his chest as if she meant to nest. And, like the discussion of semi-permanence, he didn’t mind that, either. “You want to play dominatrix?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to tie you up.”

Thank Jesus, because he didn’t know if he could go that far for her. “You want me to tie you up?”

That he could definitely do—and he would enjoy every single minute.

She chewed on her lower lip. “Not exactly.”

Yeah. He really needed an instruction manual here. Or at least a list of her don’ts.

“I want you to take charge,” she said in a rush. “I want you to take me. Pin me up against the wall or on the bed and strip me bare and ride me hard.”

Wow. “You liked my biker fantasy. You fantasize about rough sex.”

“No. Maybe. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that I feel you between my legs tomorrow, and maybe the day after. Enough that I’m not thinking of anything but you and I’m not in charge, but just along for the ride. I want to let go and not worry about orchestrating some big sexy scene. You’ll make it good for us both.” The certainty in her voice was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. “All I’ll have to do is enjoy it.”

As fantasies went, it was pretty tame. He could think of a few variations, except...it was hot as hell she’d said anything at all to him. Laney had picked out her sexual fantasy, and now she wanted to reenact it—with him. Not some anonymous guy, but him. He didn’t play at sex and he didn’t talk pretty—sex with him was gritty and real, and the women he slept with wanted the same thing he did. He had nothing to offer but straight-up, rough pleasure because he was empty. Tapped out. An emotional well run dry. He was no bloody poet, either, or he could have found some polite way to warn her.

The bottom line was, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Hell, yeah, he was ready to enlist to help her score that fantasy she craved so badly. Not so much because he needed to maintain his cover—although he was pretty sure that factored into the decision somewhere—but more because something about her undid him.

So to hell with it. He rolled over, pinned her beneath him and kissed her. To make his point, he gripped her ponytail with his hand, tugging just hard enough that she knew what he was doing. Her eyes widened, and her breathing grew ragged, which was all the yes, please, more he needed.

He kissed her, a quick, hard kiss, and she opened up sweet as sin beneath him, her tongue tangling with his. A down payment on the fantasy he’d promised her. A sneak peek of the night’s coming attractions. He was supposed to be the one calling the shots, but she let him in, her mouth sweetly submissive, and who knew? He wasn’t in control of their kiss anymore. And he liked it.