She looked up at him through lashes that had fallen to half-mast. "Considering how you left me earlier, I don't think coming is going to be a problem."
He groaned at the thought of all that pent-up passion just waiting to be unleashed. "Once I'm done with you, I think you'll forgive me for being so selfish earlier."
"We'll see," she taunted once again.
She reached out, and the muscles in his stomach flexed and rippled as her cool, slender fingers caressed the heated skin of his belly. Knowing he'd never last as long as he intended to with her hands all over him, he dragged the other sleeve and bra strap down her arm, just past her elbows. The stretchy lace material covering her breasts lowered, too, and his mouth watered at the bountiful flesh he'd exposed-ripe, full breasts that begged for the touch of his fingers, the wet rasp of his tongue, the slow, heated suction of his mouth…
Summoning patience, he quickly and efficiently used Liz's bra straps as makeshift ties by wrapping the corded material and the loose ends of her blouse around her wrists. Before she realized what he was doing, he had her hands tethered and fastened, and the excess fabric of her top secured into a knot just below her breasts, which effectively pinned her arms to her sides and restricted her reach.
She tugged on the bindings, her expression reflecting be-musement that he'd so easily managed to restrain her with her own clothes-leaving her physically vulnerable and sexually defenseless. "My… aren't you clever," she murmured.
"I'm a very resourceful kind of guy. I said slow, and I meant it, and tying you up assures me that I've got your full cooperation and I can do as I please with you." He took a small step back, giving himself just enough room to reach down, slip his hands beneath her skirt, and shove the hem up around her waist. Unable to help himself, he skimmed his palms around to her backside and squeezed her buttocks, liking how soft and giving her body was-everywhere.
She gasped, the sound filled with surprise-and excitement, too. "Now what are you doing?"
"Feeling you up," he said with a grin, then took in his handiwork, pleased with the effect he'd created. Half dressed and trussed up in the bondage he'd devised, she looked deliciously sensual with her breasts swelling, nipples stiff and dark, and her honey-blond hair tousled around her pale shoulders and beautiful face.
Her legs were long, her thighs gently curved-the kind that could cradle a man's hips in infinite softness as he thrust hard and deep. He'd left her panties on-mainly to save his own sanity, but those would be gone just as soon as he took care of other matters first.
Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it onto a nearby chair that was part of a dinette set, then unbuckled the shoulder holster he wore. He carefully laid his weapon on the table, then stripped out of his black T-shirt and added it to the pile.
"This is so not fair," she complained huskily, her eyes glazing with desire as she watched him undress. "I want to touch, too."
It was nice to know that she liked what she saw. "I never said I play fair." He strolled back to where she was still leaning up against the wall. His cock pulsed, already hard and aching for her. Again. "But maybe, if you're a good girl, I'll let you play later."
Her appreciative gaze traveled over his well-defined chest; then she eyed the tattoo encircling his right biceps, with undisguised interest. "I like your tattoo. Any special meaning to it?"
Not one he wanted to discuss at the moment. He'd gotten the tattoo right after his divorce years ago, as a symbol of his newfound freedom and bachelor lifestyle, and to cover up the scar the bullet had left on his arm. Yet despite the rebellious act, he'd been compelled to weave a name within the intricate design, of the one and only female who would ever be permanently linked to his heart. And he didn't want to discuss that with Liz, either.
He smiled lazily. "It's just a plain ol' tribal band."
Her fingers flexed at her sides, as if she wanted to reach out and touch the etched design. "It makes you look tough and dangerous."
"I am tough and dangerous." His attempt at being serious was lost in the light laughter vibrating in his tone.
"Of course you are," she agreed generously, though it was obvious to him that she wasn't intimidated by him at all. At least not in a malicious sort of way. Sexually, however, he was feeling very aggressive and intense.
She licked her lips, leaving them damp and shiny, beckoning for him to nibble and taste. "All that toughness and danger turns me on, and that tattoo makes me hot."
She was deliberately provoking him, he knew. "We can't have you burning up on me, now, can we?" Inspired by their earlier fantasy on the phone, he picked up the spritz fan and switched the small unit on, sending a cool gust of air across her skin.
Her nipples automatically puckered and darkened to a deep raspberry hue, and her luminous eyes widened in astonishment… and realization. "Steve…"
Dismissing the mild protest he heard in her voice, he pulled the trigger and sprayed a fine mist of water on her throat and breasts, then did the same to her bare belly and naked thighs.
Her entire body trembled, and her breathing deepened as he stared at her wet skin and lush body, fascinated at the way the dewy moisture gathered in places and slowly trickled downward like a soft, drizzling rain.
God, he'd never seen anything so sexy, so mouthwateringly tempting as the delectable feast she presented. Then again, she was the first woman to allow him complete trust with her body and so much control over her pleasure. And that in itself was a huge turn-on for him. Undoubtedly, Liz was a pure, reckless addiction to his senses, and like a junkie, he intended to get his fill of her.
Aching to caress all that slick, glistening flesh while she remained helplessly bound, he set the fan aside and flattened his palm around the curve of her throat and followed the slick path down to an enticing amount of cleavage. His hands captured her breasts, encircling them with long, possessive fingers and gliding his thumbs across her rigid nipples before he continued on with his lazy journey… skimming his palms across her quivering belly and down to her smooth, sleek thighs. Thighs he couldn't wait to feel wrapped tight around his waist.
Liz moaned, giving herself over to the delightful feel of Steve's hot, questing hands sliding along her deprived body, bringing feminine nerve endings to vibrant life and arousing her to the point of dizzying torment. His fingers gradually trailed their way back up her sides, tracing the dip and swell of her hips and waist, stroking the outline of her pale breasts; then finally his hands came to rest on the wall behind her, surrounding her with the male scent of him, the virile power and heat he emanated.
She whimpered at the momentary loss of contact, but he didn't make her suffer long. By slow, agonizing degrees, he closed the scant distance separating their bodies until the hard, masculine contours of his broad chest crushed against her sensitive breasts. Their bare bellies touched, skin searing skin, as he pinned her hips and thighs to the wall, leaving her no escape.
Their eyes met in the shadowed darkness, and there was no mistaking the hard, solid length of his erection jutting against her mound. He rolled his hips, letting her feel the full effect of that massive ridge, and she reacted with a low, purring sound she was helpless to hold back.
"You like that?" he murmured.
She widened her stance and arched toward him, silently seeking more. "Oh, yes," she whispered anxiously, frustrated at his slow, mindless seduction and her inability to use her hands to take what she wanted.
"Then I think you'll like this, too." Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth across hers, his breath warm and scented with mint. When he slid his silky tongue against her lower lip, she opened her mouth and eagerly let him inside. He deepened the kiss, voracious and hungry, and she answered, sliding her body sensually against his in a rhythm that matched the thrust of his tongue.