by Lexi C. Foss
“I wanted to top up my wine but found myself distracted by the show.” The fridge closed with a snick. “You know how I feel about voyeurism.”
Jayson’s grip tightened. “Take your kink elsewhere.”
“Since when do you mind an audience?” Tristan asked with a slight lilt. Irish, maybe?
Glass clinked against granite as the man went about pouring himself wine on the same island Lizzie sat upon. She could feel the coolness of the bottle near her ass, sending a chill down her spine. Or perhaps it was the stranger’s proximity that unsettled her.
“I seem to recall you being quite fond of a little exhibitionism,” he continued. “Don’t tell me you’re undergoing a change, as well. I don’t think I can handle losing two of my mates to pets. Although, I admit, this one is quite lovely.” A finger trailed down her arm, causing Jayson to yank her closer.
Her hands grasped his shoulders for balance as she finally peered over her shoulder at the tall man behind her. Vibrant green eyes held her captive.
“Yes, quite lovely.” His smile could only be described as wicked. He looked over her at the man between her legs as he added, “But I can see you’re not up for sharing, so I’ll find a snack elsewhere.”
“That would be wise,” Jayson replied. “And try not to spill anything.”
“Now you’re just insulting me, Jay. I know better than to imbibe in your personal space.” He returned the wine bottle to the fridge and turned to pick up his glass. “Can I make one suggestion?”
“You’re going to anyway.”
“I am,” Tristan agreed. “Perhaps move this interlude to a more private location if you don’t want to invite others. It could confuse those of us who know you well.”
Lizzie swallowed and returned her focus to Jayson. His friend kept referring to sharing and watching, and she inferred he meant in a sexual context. But to what extent? Her limited experience extended to a male here or there, and never anything below the waist. She couldn’t possibly live up to whatever Tristan had just implied.
“Thanks for that,” Jayson said, his focus on the other man. “Now go back to being useful in the living area. It’s getting loud.”
“Oh, I have a feeling it’ll be far louder later, old friend.” The taunt in Tristan’s voice had Jayson’s eyes narrowing. “But don’t worry. I’ll control it for you, because that’s the kind of friend I am.”
Lizzie had no idea what they were talking about but guessed it was some sort of inside joke between them, though the expression on Jayson’s face suggested that might be the wrong term.
“As if you’re not getting something out of this,” Jayson returned.
“Indeed,” Tristan murmured. “Why else would I agree to put my talents to use for such a frivolous affair?”
“Because you’re such a good friend?” Jayson suggested.
“I do appreciate your humor, Jay. Enjoy your evening. I know I’ll be enjoying mine.” He trailed a finger down her arm again, or tried to, anyway. Jayson caught his wrist before Tristan reached her elbow.
“Stop playing,” Jayson said, voice low.
Tristan grinned as he twisted his hand free. “Maybe next time.” His green eyes glimmered wickedly as they met hers. “Nice to meet you, love. I do so adore a silent woman.”
Her lips parted, but by the time she could even formulate a reply, he had left the kitchen with his wine and the bowl of grapes Jayson had prepared.
Warm hands caressed her cheeks, pulling her attention back to the man between her thighs. “I’m sorry, Liz. He’s a bit of an ass.”
“You have really weird friends,” she blurted out. First that coworker, Kiel. Then Balthazar—who wasn’t so much weird as impossibly good-looking and far too charming for his own good—and now Tristan. “How do you know them all? And didn’t you just move here? Who are all those people? And you speak Spanish?”
She couldn’t seem to stop the word vomit—a consequence of being startled, embarrassed, and slightly overwhelmed. “I need my wine,” she decided.
He stopped her from twisting, reached around her to pick up the glass, and handed it to her.
“Balthazar is visiting from where I lived before, and Tristan is an old mutual friend who lives in the city. As for all the others, I recognize a handful, while the rest are Balthazar’s acquaintances since he wanted to throw this party, and I speak a lot of languages.” He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as he smiled. “Did that cover everything?”
She finished what was left of her wine while trying to formulate a response. “The, uh, sharing thing?” She didn’t have the aplomb to clarify that any further, and her face heated just from mentioning it. Or maybe that was the alcohol. “I need more.”
She gave him her glass, and he eyed her speculatively. “How much have you had to drink tonight, Red?”
Not the answer she expected. “Are you accusing me of being drunk?”
“No.” He set the glass off to the side. “I’m checking because I want you to stay sober.”
“Why?” Wasn’t drinking the whole point of throwing a party?
He cupped her cheek and forced her to meet his gaze. “Because I need your consent.”
She frowned. “For what?”
“For the things I want to do to you.” He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “But we’ll determine your limits first.”
Her mouth went dry at both his words and the smoldering tenor of his voice. It erased all the awkwardness from Tristan’s interruption and rekindled that foreign sensation heating her veins.
“I like you,” she said on impulse. “That’s why I came up here tonight. To tell you I like you.”
Very mature, Liz, she thought with a mental cringe. How old was she? Twelve?
Fortunately, he seemed more amused than annoyed. “Yeah? I think you’ve made that clear.” He kissed her softly before adding, “The feeling is mutual, Red.” He pulled her off the counter and fixed her dress. “Follow me.”
*
Fuck it.
Jayson was going to hell anyway. He might as well enjoy himself on the way there.
He didn’t meet Balthazar’s gaze as he pulled Lizzie toward his bedroom, but he felt the mind reader’s eyes on him. Satisfaction radiated from the man because this had clearly been his plan all along.
When have I ever let you down? He seemed to ask.
Never.
And tonight was no exception.
Fine. Jayson would indulge himself a little. He deserved it after two months of focusing on this mission. If Lizzie didn’t want him, he wouldn’t touch her, but those little mewls of desperation in the kitchen confirmed all his suspicions.
She hadn’t even realized her own reactions or that her body had been on the verge of cresting into orgasm after a few innocent touches.
He bit back a groan at her inexperience. It floored him.
This desire between them was an all-consuming insanity. And something needed to be done about it.
But there would be rules—for him, not her.
Lizzie required a slow introduction into his bed, and he refused to overwhelm her. She deserved better than that.
And he couldn’t fuck her the way he wanted to until she knew the truth.
Shit, he shouldn’t even be willing to go this far without telling her everything, but his sense of honor had taken a backseat after that interlude in the kitchen.
This would be about making her feel good and nothing more.
She’d forgive him for that, right?
He escorted her into his bedroom and locked the door behind them.
“So, um…” She gazed up at him through her thick lashes as color brightened her cheeks. “You mentioned limits?”
“Yes, I did.” He backed her up into the wall, placing his palms against the hard surface on either side of her head. “No sex tonight.”
Her jaw hit the floor. “Wh-what?”
“Right. That reaction is exactly why we’re not having sex tonight.” He trace
d every inch of her deep-red dress with his eyes before meeting her gaze again. “But I’m open to other options if you are.” Like taking off this dress and exploring the flesh beneath with my tongue.
That pretty pink tongue darted out to lick her lips, and he wondered idly what it would feel like against his cock.
Not that they would be doing that tonight.
This was about her.
He ran his nose over the blush of her cheeks to her ear. “Let’s start with easier questions,” he suggested. “How do you feel about me removing your dress?”
She shivered, eliciting a smile from him. “Mmm, you approve, as do I. What else, Red? What else am I allowed to remove?”
He dropped one hand to her waist, sliding it upward to thumb the underside of her breast. “Your bra?” he whispered. Another tremble, followed by a soft little moan, encouraged him to travel downward to where the fabric ended on her leg. He explored the hem before gently prodding the inside of her thigh.
Her breathing escalated, causing him to pause.
“A limit,” he murmured. “Mmm, I can work with this.”
“I…” She shuddered even as her body tensed. “I-I don’t know.”
Because she’d never been touched there. He understood.
“That’s why we have limits, Red,” he said in a soothing tone. He would never force her or any woman into an uncomfortable situation. That went against his personal code.
“I’m not… sure.” Another shudder, this one less erotic and more emotional.
He worshiped her neck with his mouth, easing her back into him as he removed his hand from her leg and brought it up to tangle with her hair. “I would be content to kiss you all night, Elizabeth. With or without clothes. It will always be your choice.” His lips sealed over her pulse, sucking lightly and coaxing one of those needy noises from her.
That’s it, sweetheart. Come back to me.
Her nails dug into his arms, pulling him closer. He pressed his hips to hers, testing another boundary. She reacted by arching into him. His dick ached at the contact, but he shoved his needs aside to focus on her. He could enjoy a long shower afterward.
“Mmm, I think we can begin.” He pulled back to capture her gaze. “Tell me if I go too far, Red. One word and I’ll stop. Understand?”
Her dazed expression and little nod didn’t work for him.
He tightened his hold in her hair and gave it a subtle tug. “Elizabeth, I need to know you’ll speak up, or this won’t work.” He could read all her body cues well enough, but vocal participation was a requirement.
She swallowed, sobering enough through the haze of arousal to focus. “Okay.”
“Not good enough.” He nipped her jaw. “What will you say if you need me to slow down? If something is too intense?”
She blinked up at him. “To, uh, stop?”
His heart warmed at the genuineness of her response. He would have so much fun training her in the art of seduction and sex. Perhaps even too much fun. “We can start with that if you want, but you may want to word it differently at some point.”
Her lips curled downward. “Why?”
He pressed his lips to her ear again. “Because, Red, at some point, your pleasure will be so intense you’ll beg me to stop even though it’s the last thing you actually want.”
*
“But we’ll explore that later, when you’re ready.” The words burned against Lizzie’s sensitive skin.
Oh. My. God.
He could do that to her?
How?
His hot mouth went to her neck again, sending shivers down her spine. As if it wasn’t enough to be caged between him and the wall, he had to add his talented lips to the mix.
I’m in so much trouble.
The best kind, though.
Or so she hoped.
Because, oh God, he was doing those things with his hands again, gently tracing her sides and stopping just beneath her breasts. She wanted to force him higher but didn’t know how.
“Turn around,” he murmured. “Put your hands on the wall for me.”
She didn’t know what to think or how to feel but abided the command because she wanted more. Butterflies took flight in her abdomen as he gathered all her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. He traced the line of her zipper from the base to the top, setting her blood on fire.
“Breathe, Red.” He pressed a kiss to her nape that scattered goose bumps down her spine. Or maybe that was the result of him exposing her skin inch by inch. She didn’t know. Didn’t care. Couldn’t focus.
He’s going to see me naked.
It’s just like being in a swimsuit competition.
Totally not the same thing.
God, what underwear had she worn?
Maroon.
Right.
To coordinate with her dress.
Panties, not a thong, and a matching silk bra. Just like a bikini, only with more cleavage. She could handle this.
Her dress fell to the ground.
Oh, God.
Heat flared across her back as he pressed his palms to her bare skin. “You’re killing me, Lizzie.” He slowly rotated her to face him, and the arousal darkening his gaze knocked her off balance.
She’d never had a man look at her like that.
Ravenous.
Hot.
And so incredibly sexy.
It triggered something buried deep inside of her—a confidence she didn’t know she owned.
He wants me. She could see it in the way his chocolate eyes roamed over every inch of her skin in unabashed admiration.
Lizzie had no idea what to do with that knowledge, but she wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt. She didn’t wait or ask but used her heels to her advantage and pressed her lips to his.
He responded immediately, taking control of the kiss with his tongue and flattening her against the wall. She moaned into his mouth as he parted her legs with one of his.
So good.
She needed more.
That fire was brewing again, so addictive and consuming.
His fingers knotted in her hair once more, tugging her back to the angle he wanted as his opposite hand went to her hips to force her pelvis forward. She jolted as the sweet spot connected with his muscled thigh.
Oh. She liked that.
Jayson awoke something inside of her that she knew very little about. Pleasure and desire were concepts she understood but rarely felt. Even alone at night when she tried, nothing happened. She felt attraction—love, even—but never anything like this.
She kissed him harder, and he returned the embrace in kind, all the while keeping his leg lodged between hers and applying pressure where she desired it most.
What is happening to me?
She felt wanton, dirty, and so very alive.
Her nails dug into his scalp as the sensation mounted, and he grinned against her lips. “What do you need, Red?”
She couldn’t articulate a response, because she didn’t know.
He cupped her breasts, and she arched on instinct.
Okay, yes, that she wanted. Very much.
“Skin,” she managed as fire danced over her senses.
Her bra disappeared, and she moaned as he gave her what she desired. But it still wasn’t enough.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured against her mouth. He lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the mattress, where he laid her down far too gently. His palms slid down her legs to her ankles. He slipped off each of her heels and let them drop to the floor.
Every part of her yearned for more, causing her to squirm uncomfortably on the bed. Jayson watched with a hungry expression while slowly removing his jacket and laying it over the chair in the corner.
She froze when his hand went to the top button of his dress shirt.
Her brain conjured an image of what existed beneath, dampening the space between her thighs.
Oh, yes, please.
He slowly unfastened each button while obser
ving her reactions with that same voracious look.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked with a groan.
“Prolonging the moment,” he replied, tilting his head to the side with a knowing smile. “Trust me. You’ll thank me for it later.”
“Right now, I want to kill you.”
“No, sweetheart. You want to fuck me. I can see how you might confuse the two, but they’re unrelated.” He finished removing his button-down and the fitted shirt beneath, and began loosening his belt.
Her lips fell open at the implication, causing him to pause, but she didn’t have it in her to tell him to stop. How could she turn down a naked Jayson?
Whatever he saw in her expression must have appeased him, because he continued and rid himself of his jeans.
Black boxer briefs.
Even mostly naked, the man still had excellent fashion sense. Not in the way of most men who favored suits, but one who enjoyed European fashion. Lizzie more than approved, especially as he strolled toward her with all those muscles flexing and clenching.
Her breathing escalated as he crawled over her.
“You have the most gorgeous breasts,” he murmured against a stiffening peak.
His gaze held hers as he slowly took her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth. She bowed off the bed in response, causing him to chuckle.
“Mmm, you approve.” He switched to the other and sucked it harder, eliciting a tortured sound from her throat.
The sensations were too much, yet still not enough. She didn’t understand what she needed, just that she wanted. Oh God, did she want.
He kissed a path down her stomach while she writhed beneath him, and it wasn’t until he settled between her thighs that she realized his intention.
Stop was on the tip of her tongue when he did something with his mouth that she never could have predicted.
There, her mind supplied as she dug her nails into the bedding beneath her.
That was what she craved.
Her body shuddered under the onslaught as he tortured her most intimate flesh through the red silk of her panties and applied pressure with his tongue.
Magic.
The man held a mystical touch.
That’s what caused all this. Even when she touched herself there, it never felt anything like this, nor did she ever enjoy it.