Take Me Again (The Knight Brothers 1)
“I did spend time with Katherine Downing in Purchasing,” Ashley said, unaware of his reaction. “She’s the one who got me the receipts and bills I needed. She was helpful with everything I asked for but didn’t seem all that keen on talking.”
“Hmm. We’re going to need a new strategy.”
She murmured in agreement, “I’ll definitely have to meet with her again. But you know … I was just thinking. You’ve been talking to all the high-level execs, but the real day-to-day dealings go on with the lower echelon of employees. Maybe you need to have a meeting with them.”
He raised an eyebrow at her suggestion, impressed. “Not a bad idea,” he mused. “In the meantime, what do you want to do for dinner?” he asked. “We can stop anywhere.”
She glanced out the tinted window as the car wound through the city streets, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders. His fingers itched to wind themselves in the long strands, but despite her warmth tonight, he didn’t act on the impulse.
“I’m really not in the mood to sit down in a restaurant and eat a long, drawn-out dinner. Are you?”
“Hell no.” He thought about possibilities, then had an idea. Leaning forward, he spoke to the driver. “First pizzeria you see, stop, please?”
“What are you doing? Bringing food back to the hotel room?” she asked.
He turned to her and grinned. “We’re going to drive through the city, share a pizza, and just relax.”
Her eyes widened in definite approval. “Oh, that sounds wonderful.” She immediately kicked off her heels and stretched out her legs, wriggling her now free toes, drawing his attention to those long legs. “God,” she murmured in a husky voice. “I didn’t realize how much my feet hurt until I took these off.”
He glanced at the high heels, knew she was in pain, and scowled. “I don’t get why women wear these things if they’re so uncomfortable.”
A smirk lifted her lips. “Are you telling me I didn’t see you staring at my legs in these spiked heels?”
Caught, he thought with a grin. “I didn’t say I didn’t like them.” His gaze drifted down her legs again, deliberately staring at the exposed skin, hoping he was making her squirm.
Before she could react, the car came to a stop.
“Pizza place on the left,” the driver said to Sebastian, interrupting their banter-like conversation.
He knew it was safer that way. Better he hopped out now, before he acted on his baser impulses when it came to Ashley.
“I’ll be back,” he said, his voice a notch lower than usual.
* * *
Half an hour later, they had pizza, paper plates, napkins, and bottles of soda spread across the seat. The divider between the front and the passengers had been raised, giving them privacy, the chauffeur having been instructed to just drive. Instrumental music Ashley didn’t recognize played low in the background.
She ate without self-consciousness, devouring two slices of large plain pizza, sipping Diet Coke from the bottle, and laughing with Sebastian over anything and everything, their conversation easy and fun. He’d collected the plate and piled the box and garbage onto the floor at his feet for cleaning up later.
He glanced at her and patted his thighs. “Put your feet up here,” he said, surprising her.
She narrowed her gaze, hesitantly raising her legs and laying her bare feet in his lap. He wrapped a hand around one foot and began to massage it. Clearly he hadn’t forgotten her complaint about pain.
He pressed his thumb into her arch, and she moaned out loud, the incredible feel of him working his fingers into her sore muscles delicious. And extremely arousing. With every press of the pads of his fingers, her sex pulsed with desire, wetness coating her panties. She doubted that had been his intent, but she also knew he wouldn’t complain if he knew his massage was turning her on.
He worked her muscles in silence, music light and airy around them, allowing her to close her eyes and focus on the luxurious feel of his touch.
“Feel good?” he asked in a roughened voice, letting her know he was just as affected by this moment as she was.
“Mmm. Incredible.”
He worked up her arch and into the skin below her toes, moving upward. She wasn’t ticklish. Instead she found the pull on each toe a balm to her pain.
He switched to the other foot, giving it the same treatment until she was heady with the sensations he was creating inside her. His talented hands slid the opposite direction, down her foot to her ankle, kneading the muscles in her calves and moving slowly up her leg, not skimping on the actual massage. He wasn’t copping a feel, he was working her muscles, and she appreciated every kneading sensation into her skin.
His fingertips slid up the sensitive point behind her knee, slowly traveling higher and higher still, as if testing her approval. She knew where he was headed, those fingers inching ever closer to the place between her thighs that throbbed with need. Her clit pulsed, the desire for his touch there a tangible thing.