Night After Night ~ Lauren Blakely
He reached for her, gripping her wrist in his hand. “Don’t.”
He shook his head. “Wear my shirt.”
“I don’t even have a bra on,” she pointed out, as if his idea was ludicrous.
“I know,” he said, his lips curving up. “I like that.”
“You like me all free-range?”
“You have beautiful breasts. I want to be tortured knowing they are just one layer away from me, and covered only by something I was wearing an hour ago,” he said, trailing his fingers along the edge of the shirt, barely touching her exposed chest. A shiver ran down her spine.
“And what about my bottom half? You want me to strut around naked from the waist down?”
“I want you to put that skirt back on. Do not put on underwear. Just your heels, your skirt and my shirt,” he said in a firm voice. He held her gaze, his eyes darker than usual, waiting for her answer.
“Are you giving me an order?” she asked, pushing her fingers through her hair that was still messy from sex. But she’d never minded sex hair. As far as she was concerned, it was a look that should be listed on the menu at all blowout salons. Updo, blown straight, or sex hair? I’ll take the sex hair, thank you very much.
“I’m giving you a request. One that I very much want you to fulfill,” he said, grabbing her hand and bringing her palm to his lips. He kissed her, his tongue soft and wet against her skin. She’d never expected being kissed on her palm would be so erotic, but it was, because everything about Clay was charged with his smoldering virility, like a trailing scent of lingering sexiness that surrounded him. She was familiar with the term “sex-on-a-stick,” but that didn’t even begin to describe this man. He was so much more than that. He was masterful, and he touched her in ways that felt unreal. As if it weren’t possible to truly feel that good. But, this was no mere dream. It was an intoxicating sliver of reality.
“What if I want to wear underwear?” she said, challenging him because it was fun, because she could, and because he wasn’t going to pull a knife on her if she did. Here, she could be herself without fear of retaliation with a weapon. What a relief that was.
“Then I will take it off at the table. So as far as I can see, you can leave your panties here, or I can remove them from you at the restaurant. That clear?”
She nodded. “Commando it is then. And I am going to make you so crazy with wanting me that you might regret telling me to go naked.”
“Impossible. I’d never regret you naked.”