Take Me Read Free Page B

left. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I wasn’t sure why,
considering what we’d done in the airport and the taxi.
    As if sensing my nervousness, he stepped
closer. His lips brushed mine in a delicate almost-kiss. He drew
back, watching me with those pale eyes. My tongue flicked over the
spot on my lower lip where he’d touched me.
    I realized I wasn’t nervous about having sex
with him again. The question was whether his imagination matched
mine. “So what kind of things were you thinking in the
elevator?”
    The tension in his shoulders eased. Maybe
he’d been concerned I’d deny him, that I’d change my mind once we
were inside the suite. “Take off your clothes for me.”
    I reached into the pocket of my suit jacket
and pulled out the wad of satin and nylon. “You sure this isn’t
enough?”
    A slight smile tilted the corners of his
mouth. “I want to see the whole package.”
    I never had someone watch me undress like
this before. For my ex, disrobing was a preliminary to rush through
before the main event. Instead of a means-to-the-end, Ian watched
me as if this was something spectacular he’d waited for all his
life.
    For once, I wasn’t self-conscious. My whole
being locked on Ian. Never before had I been so aware of each
movement I made, each tiny gesture. The rasp of my jacket’s lining
as it slid down the cotton sleeves of my blouse. The smooth texture
of the acrylic buttons at my wrists. The coolness of my skirt’s
material against my skin when I tugged the shirttail from the
waistband.
    His attention followed as I slowly undid each
button. His undivided interest made me feel feminine. Powerful.
    I tugged the material off my shoulders and
let gravity do the rest. My shirt fluttered against my calves
before it puddled on the carpet.
    Ian’s breath quickened, but he made no move
to touch me. I reached behind me for the clasp of my bra.
    “No. Your skirt first.”
    I hesitated for a second. Maybe it was the
baseball metaphor for sex. It didn’t seem right to round third base
before second. I chuckled when I realized how silly I was being.
Bases were irrelevant in this game since we’d hit home long before
third anyway.
    “What’s so funny?” Ian looked sincerely
interested, not worried or offended.
    I pulled down the zipper on my skirt. “I
think we’re playing America’s greatest pastime backward.” I
released the waistband, and my skirt slithered down my legs. Cool
air tickled my pussy.
    He grinned. “Maybe I’m tired of playing by
the rules.”
    So I wasn’t the only one stuck in a rut. I
relaxed a bit at the realization.
    He stepped closer and reached behind me. With
a soft snap , my breasts were free. He drew the straps down
my shoulders and eased back to take in the effect.
    His gaze swept down the length of my body,
and I shivered at the desire he emanated.
    “Turn around,” he murmured. Once again, I
paused. I wanted, no, I needed him as naked as I was. My
lips parted, and he laid his index finger across them. “Trust
me.”
    I pivoted and waited. So many things ran
through my mind. Would he kiss my neck? Would he ever touch my
breasts? Would he simply unzip his trousers and take me from
behind?
    He did none of those things. Carefully, oh,
so carefully, he removed the pins that held my French twist in
place. My hair tumbled to my shoulders, and he ran his fingers
through my locks. “I’ve been wanting to do that from the first
moment I saw you,” he whispered in my ear.
    I don’t know what he did with my pins, but
his hands cupped my swollen breasts. He pressed me against his hard
chest. I reveled in his touch as he caressed the delicate skin and
plucked my erect nipples.
    I was already wet from our earlier play, but
there seemed to be a live electrical wire connecting his hands to
my pussy. Every pinch and roll of his fingers shot raw sensation
through that line. The press of his erection against my ass added
to the demands of my body.
    “Please,” I whispered. “I