She returned his smile, but Jackson knew her changing expressions well enough by now to know that beneath her upbeat reply, she was overwhelmed by the evening’s festivities. After nearly four hours of mingling, being introduced to dozens of people, and making polite chitchat, he suspected she was pretty close to her limit. Hell, he was exhausted and decided after the song ended, it was time for them to go. He was done sharing her tonight.
She idly skimmed her hand down the lapel of his black suit jacket, then touched her fingers to the purple tie she’d given him when he’d arrived to pick her up, so that they’d match. “I don’t think I’ve had the chance to tell you how dashing you look in your suit tonight,” she said flirtatiously.
“And you look absolutely stunning,” he replied honestly. “Easily the most beautiful woman in the room.”
Her cheeks flushed pink as she arched a brow. “You do realize that flattery isn’t required to get laid tonight, right?”
He chuckled. “It’s the truth, sweetheart. Your sexy dress, your elegant hairstyle that I can’t wait to dishevel with my fingers . . .” Leaning closer, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered seductively, “And those indecently hot fuck-me shoes that are driving my cock insane with thoughts of you wearing them while I—”
Tara jerked back and pressed her hand over his mouth, her eyes wide in shock, though there was no denying the flicker of desire glimmering in the depths. “You can’t say those kinds of dirty things at a work function,” she scolded in a low voice. “What if one of your bosses or a client hears you?”
He shrugged and dragged her hand away from his lips. “Hey, I’m just expressing my appreciation for how exquisite you look tonight.”
She laughed, then her features turned more wistful. “What you see right now isn’t really me,” she said of the fancy dress, the elaborate hair, the extraneous embellishments. “To be honest, I kind of feel like Cinderella at the ball.”
Like a fraud and someone who didn’t belong. He could easily read between the lines, and he hated that she’d think of herself that way. He understood that his work situation was different from hers, that as an architect, he was more entrenched in an affluent social circle, while she was a bartender who served a middle-class crowd, but this gala didn’t represent the man he was, nor did it reflect the things he wanted in his life.
He loved his career, and having nice things was definitely a bonus, but he knew, without a doubt, that none of it mattered if he ended up spending the rest of his life alone. Or without her by his side.
He released her, and, uncaring of who might see, he framed her face in his hands and made sure she was looking directly into his eyes so she could see everything he felt for her reflecting in his gaze. “Sweetheart, this isn’t some kind of fairy tale that goes away when the clock strikes midnight,” he told her gently, aware of the irony. He’d been dealing with the same fears himself. “It’s you and me together, and it’s as real as it gets. Don’t ever doubt that.”
There was no missing the undeniable relief he saw in her expression, as if his words had alleviated her doubts—and that consoled him, as well.
He released his hold on her face and gave her a wicked grin. “So, are you ready to blow this joint and move on to more pleasurable activities?”
Her beautiful blue eyes lit up with excitement as she batted her lashes playfully at him. “Are you propositioning me, Mr. Stone?”
“Fuck yes,” he growled in a low, suddenly impatient tone of voice so the people dancing nearby couldn’t hear. “Is it working?”
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed as she gave his tie a playful tug that made his dick twitch in anticipation. “Take me back to your place so I can show you exactly what I’m wearing, or not wearing, beneath this dress.”
* * *
Tara walked into Jackson’s modern, stylish condo on Lake Shore Drive, a far cry from her tiny home that looked old and outdated in comparison. No matter how many times she’d been to his place, she was always in awe of the sleek furnishings, the hardwood flooring, and the gorgeous open floor plan that led straight into a spacious living room. While Jackson switched on a lamp to give the room some light, then shrugged off his suit jacket and slipped off his tie, she strolled behind the leather couch, gravitating to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city from thirty-five stories up.
She stood there, taking in the peaceful sight. The view at night was always so spectacular and a bit magical to her. It was as if she and Jackson were in their own little world, and the only thing that existed outside of his place were starry, shimmering lights and the promise of forever.
He came up behind her, settled his hands on her waist, and placed a warm kiss on the nape of her neck still exposed by her upswept hair. The touch of his lips elicited a shiver of delight and tightened her breasts, her body easily submitting to whatever this man wanted to do to her. They’d talked about the gala on the drive back to his place, about the clients she’d met and some interesting conversations they’d had, but now that they were completely alone, Tara wanted the rest of the night to be just about the two of them.
He nuzzled the side of her throat and traced his hands up her sides, then settled them flat against her rib cage. “So, about what you’re wearing or not wearing beneath this dress, I’m definitely curious to find out.”
She bit her bottom lip as his thumbs brushed beneath the undersides of her aching breasts, teasing her, arousing her. “Then unzip me so you can see for yourself,” she murmured, shifting anxiously on the stiletto heels strapped to her feet.
“Right here?” he asked scandalously.
She smiled, remembering one night a few weeks ago when he’d stripped her bare in front of these windows, and she’d been so shocked and uncertain, and yeah, a bit of modesty had kicked in. But he’d promised that no one could see into the living room since they were too high up and there were no other buildings directly in front of his.
She’d been skeptical, and it had taken some coaxing and m
ajor seduction on his part to get her to relax and not feel like an exhibitionist. But once he knew that he had her full consent, he’d placed her hands on the window and ordered her to keep them there, then smacked her ass with his palm—and not playfully, either. He’d spanked each cheek until her flesh was hot and tingling and her pussy was pulsing for release. And it wasn’t until she begged that he finally pressed her upper body against the glass as he fucked her from behind and straight into a screaming orgasm.
It had been one of the hottest, most thrilling sexual experiences of her life. So far. With Jackson, there was no telling what kind of depraved kink he’d introduce her to, but he’d yet to let her down.
He was still waiting for her answer, and she didn’t disappoint him. “Yes, right here.”
“Look at you,” he said, his tone impressed as he gradually lowered the zipper down her back as she gazed out at the city. “I think my dirty girl likes the thought of other people watching.”
Only when she knew there was no one watching, she thought in amusement. But her mind couldn’t deny it was a potent fantasy that got her off.