“Gah…”
She frowned at him, ninety-nine percent certain that wasn’t so much a word he’d produced as the sound of him swallowing his tongue. “It’s okay, you can spit it out. I look ridiculous.”
He snapped his mouth shut and cleared his throat before attempting to speak again. “Not what I was going to say at all.”
“No? Then how would you phrase it? Stupid? Silly? Skanky? I’m sure I can come up with a few more S words if you give me a moment.”
“Sexy.”
She chuffed a humorless laugh. “Good one.” She would have tossed out another flippant comment, but the heat in his eyes dried it to dust in her mouth.
He continued looking at her, really looking at her, in a way he’d never done before. As if he liked what he saw. No, craved what he saw. To the point that he wanted to sink his teeth straight into her for a leisurely meal.
Her turn to gulp. “Jer?”
The timid, uncertain quake in her voice seemed to jog him from his hypnotic fascination with her scantily clothed body. The mask of cool blandness he’d perfected over the years slipped back into place. “The dress will work out fine.”
“I don’t know. I can’t even tie it up properly.”
“Here, I’ll get it.”
Before she could protest or swat him away, he stepped behind her and gripped the laces. “Tell me if I’m doing it too tight.”
“I want it snug so I don’t fall out of the damn thing.”
“Yeah, that’d be a pity.”
She snapped her gaze to their reflections, but his lowered profile revealed nothing regarding that crack. She opened her mouth to demand an explanation and squeaked like she’d been goosed when he tugged on the laces without adequate warning.
Now I know how a sausage feels. Attempting to retain enough oxygen in her lungs to breathe, she sucked in her tummy. Any air trapped there apparently migrated up into her bosom because it plumped like it’d been inflated with helium. Jerrick’s motions stalled for a second, his scrutiny glued to her cleavage. Catching her suspicious squint in the looking glass, he returned his attention to the ties. His knuckles brushed her skin with each pass of the leather through the metal grommets. As he ventured closer to the top of the dress, the lessening slack of the laces meant more chances for his fingers to linger on her goose-pebbled flesh. By the time he pulled the final lace ends together, her knees were trembling.
Jerrick’s warm hands slid upward and rested on either side of her neck. “You’re shaking.”
“In case you didn’t notice, this dress offers less coverage than a washcloth. I’m cold.”
“No, I definitely noticed.”
She assumed he was referring to the inadequacies of her apparel, until she realized he was staring fixedly at her nipples. The combination of her arousal and the chill in the room had stiffened the little buggers to hard points behind the crimson leather. He met her eyes again, and the sultriness brewing in his irises knocked the remaining air from her diaphragm.
“Tell me to touch you.” Gravel rode roughshod over his voice. “Same as you did before.”
“You’ve been touching me for the past five minutes.” Something the slickened state of her panties was all too happy to remind her of.
“You know that isn’t how you want me to touch you. How I’m dying to touch you.” His fingertips trailed over her collarbone, flirting with the upper curve of her breast.
Her eyes fluttering shut, she gave in to a wispy exhale. “Don’t you dare die before you grope me properly.”
“Good girl.” His whiskered jaw caressed the side of her face just as his hand coasted lower and cupped her breast. “That sounds suspiciously like something a dominatrix would say to her sub. Although I suspect she’d back up the reprimand with a stinging bite from her flogger.”
“Trust me, if I had one handy, I’d gladly crack you across the ass.”
His smoky laugh brought new meaning to the term oral sex. Because gods knew, listening to it could trigger an orgasm. He nibbled her earlobe, each tiny nip provoking a pulsing throb through her clit. “You never know. I might enjoy it.”
His thumb flicked her nipple, circling it slowly until the tormented nub ached in desperate wanting of his bare fingers with no fabric in the way. Or better yet, his mouth. Warm, wet and ravenous.
Mesmerized, she stared at the focused way he fondled her, his concentration a mirror to what he’d displayed in the main room when working the plastic from the zipper. If she wasn’t careful, her willpower would rend exactly like the bag beneath the irresistible strength of his wicked enticement. “What are we doing, Jer?”
He continued tracing the peak of her nipple. “Setting the parameters for our training.”
And just like that, reality whipped into her with the brisk impact of an arctic front. This was business to him, nothing more. While she’d been melting like butter under his touch, he’d been perfecting his role. Gods, she was a fool. This was nothing but an illusion, and she’d fallen for it. Hook, line and sinker.
But wasn’t that the entire point of what they were doing? Crafting a clever charade that’d get them beyond the doors of that kinky sex club? Jerrick obviously hadn’t forgotten the reason for him being here. She’d do well to keep her head firmly planted in the game too, and her heart out of it.
Leaning into his big, oh-so-scrumptious body, she slid her arms downward, running her hands along the steel of his jeans-clad thighs. Redirecting her path, she moved higher, grazing his lean hips before grabbing a handful of his ass in each hand. He tensed, a sharp breath whistling between his teeth. She smothered a grin. Yeah, two can play this game, you dirty bastard. “I believe the parameters are mine to enforce. Or have you forgotten our arrangement?”
The mutinous slant of his chin led her to believe he was on the verge of balking, but then he surprised her by inclining his head slightly in a grudging display of acquiescence. “Fine. Show me what you’ve got.”
For a moment she thought he meant it literally, and equal parts excitement and trepidation sluiced through her at the notion of stripping out of the dress and presenting her naked self to him. Common sense reappeared, saving her the embarrassment of awarding him the full monty when he’d likely only been referring to her issuing another command for him to obey.
“Take off your shirt.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that all?”
“For now.”
That reply gave him pause, but he released her and took a step back. Not about to miss the show, she turned to face him. Bunching the hem of his T-shirt, he dragged it upward, granting her ample opportunity to ogle the slow reveal of his torso.
And what a magnificent torso it was. His chest was generously endowed with muscle, and nary a hair in sight to obscure the mouth-watering definition of his pecs. His dusky nipples were pebbled as if he too was affected by the chilliness in the air.
Or perhaps arousal was the culprit. She scanned the territory below his belt and sucked in a breath at the sizable bulge straining his fly. If only he hadn’t moved away from her and instead remained pressed to her backside, all that hot, hard flesh rubbing into her.
A decadent shudder rushed through her.
Jerrick tugged the shirt the rest of the way off and let it drop to the floor before combing his fingers through his rumpled hair. The fine thread of tension radiating from him belied his loose and easy posture.
He’s worried what I’m going to ask him to do next. The knowledge filled her with a devilish glee. She stroked her chin and circled him, deliberately taking her time with the task. The deep groove of his spine fascinated and beckoned. Splaying her hand in the middle of his back, she followed that alluring line, basking in the warm, velvety texture of his skin and the subtle quiver of his muscles beneath her exploring fingers. He was so unfairly beautiful, it hurt to look at him. Not that she was about to deprive herself by glancing away.