I"d say we"re in the
clear now, wouldn"t you?”
“I guess that clears things up, yes.” I couldn"t believe how badly my voice
shook. Dropping my gaze again, I added, “I"m sorry, this is so…”
“Don"t apologize. A lot of clients are nervous the first time.” The softness of his
voice matched his kiss, and desire for the latter made my lips tingle. He raised my
chin so our eyes met when he said, “You gave Becky your list of limits when you set
this up. I won"t do anything you put on that list, and if there"s anything else you
decide you don"t want, all you have to do is speak up. Okay?”
I nodded.
“So now that we"ve cleared that up,” he said with a playful lilt, “and we"ve
established that neither of us are cops, why don"t you tell me what you do want me
to do?”
I"d never been the one to take the reins in the bedroom. Ever. The faint scent
of his cologne made me want to tear that blue silk shirt right off him and demand
he fuck me, but nerves conspired to keep me still and tongue-tied. I must have
looked like a complete idiot to him.
If I did, he didn"t let on. Instead, he kissed me again, and at least one of us
wasn"t tongue-tied. When his hand moved on my back, I half-expected the “is this
okay?” touch beneath the back of my shirt, but it moved up instead of down. Right
up the center, leaving a trail of goose bumps along my spine and across my ribs
before trailing over the back of my neck and into my hair. Barely there fingertips
brushed over my scalp, making my breath catch and sending a shiver right through
me.
Then his light touch became a firm grasp, and in the same instant that he
pulled my head back, he broke the kiss and descended on my neck. I whimpered and
dug my fingers into his shoulders, certain every bone in my body was a heartbeat
away from liquefying.
Oh, Lord, the things this man could do with his mouth. He searched my neck
for erogenous zones, and whenever he found one, he teased it with the tip of his
tongue, his lips, even his goatee. His shirt bunched in my hands as I tried to keep
myself upright. It seemed a shame to wrinkle such fine fabric, but it was about to be
in a rumpled heap on the floor anyway, so to hell with it.
I grabbed the front of the shirt I"d already started wrinkling and took a step
back, hauling him with me. That first step was a leap of faith, and once it was
taken, I was sure I could do this. I could definitely do this. The second was more
Damaged Goods
7
confident. The third was shaky because his lips were on my neck and his breath was
on my skin and his hand was on my hip, sliding around to my lower back and
keeping me against him, close to him, as close as two fully dressed people could be.
He raised his head and reached into his back pocket. Then he leaned past me
to set a few condoms on the table between the beds. Their presence made this all
more real. I was suddenly less certain I could do this and doubly sure I wanted to.
Especially when I glanced at them again and recognized both the logo and
distinctive gold foil. I"d only been with a few men who"d needed Trojan Magnums
and one who thought he did. With Sabian"s hard cock pressed against my hip, there
was no mistaking that his condom preference was more than just an ego extension.
With uncertain fingers, I went for his top button. The first few buttons were
easy. The more they fell away, revealing more and more of his chest, the more both
my knees and hands shook. They didn"t get any steadier when he gently freed my
blouse from my skirt. The warmth of his fingertips on the small of my back
straightened my spine, and when he slid his hands up my sides, lifting my blouse
up and off, I suppressed a whimper.
Shoes came off. His belt and pants. My skirt that was ridiculously long for this
situation. Without that skirt, I still felt ridiculous, this time because of my simple
white cotton bra and briefs. I"d thought about wearing something out of the