“Stay there,” he said, leaving me standing just a few feet from the door. We had a regular room, not a suite, and I liked the fact that it was small and intimate, with little more than a bed and a desk and a chair.
It was as if the room was stripping away all other possibilities, leaving nothing else for us to do except take off our clothes and enjoy each other. That was fine by me. The way Cole had bolted in Chicago had left me feeling edgy. I’d recovered a bit on the plane and even more with Nikki and Damien. But I wasn’t going to feel completely right—I wasn’t going to feel completely his—until I’d spent hours in his arms. Until he’d claimed me again and again. Until he’d taken me every way imaginable and then some.
And until he stayed with me afterward.
Now he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. I remained still, knowing that was part of the game, but wanting badly to move because my legs were starting to cramp. Just when I thought I could take it no more, he said a single word. “Strip.”
I didn’t speak. I didn’t smile. I did nothing, in fact, except take four long strides toward him, bringing me all the way into the room and putting me right in front of him.
I’d had no time to change before racing to the plane, and that meant I also had no luggage. Fortunately, I’d known from my repeated viewings of Pretty Woman that it was easy to solve a wardrobe crisis on Rodeo Drive—at least, it was if you had money. Now I wore a stunning Dior wrap-style dress in pale blue. And since Cole had paid for it—all the way down to the lace panties and push-up bra—I figured he was entitled to watch it come off.
I untied the sash, then unwrapped the dress until it hung on me like a robe, revealing the bra, very tiny panties, and stunning blue stilettos.
“You like?”
“I think I like this view even better. Maybe this is how you should wear the dress from now on.”
“Okay,” I said, teasing. “But let’s see if we can manage an improvement.” I slowly slid my hand down my stomach until my fingers disappeared under the lace band of the panties. I was wet and hot and I arched back a bit as I stroked myself, my fingers sliding over my bare skin and teasing my clit enough to send tingles of sensation running all through me.
I kept my eyes open, locked on his, and when I heard his low, guttural moan, I knew that I’d just won a round in whatever game we were playing at the moment.
I withdrew my hand, then sucked on my finger. I was rewarded with another groan and a soft, “You’re killing me, Kat,” which made me laugh.
In one fluid motion, I pulled the dress the rest of the way off, then let it fall to the floor. Then I unclasped the bra and tossed it casually aside. Next came the panties, until I stood in front of him, completely naked except for the fuck-me heels.
I moved closer, then simply stood there, mere inches from him. “If we were at Destiny, there’d be a no-touching policy.”
“Good thing we’re not,” he said, then reached out to run his fingers lightly over me. Up and down my arms, over my thighs, lightly along my breasts. The caresses were gentle, almost casual, but the sensations he stirred in me were anything but.
I’d been standing with my legs together, but his touch had sent such a flurry of sensation through me that my body was now throbbing for release. I shifted, spreading my legs a bit, then I leaned in and put one hand on his shoulder, both for balance and to bring me closer to his ear. “I’m so close,” I whispered. “Make me come.”
I leaned back enough to see his face and the heat reflected there. I saw the way a muscle in his cheek twitched as he fought for control. And I heard that single, unexpected word—“No.”
I lifted a brow, frustrated both by the tension in my body and the amusement I saw in his eyes.
“Fine,” I said, then moved my own fingers to my sex, because this was a problem I could take care of on my own.
“No,” he said. “My rules tonight. You don’t come until I tell you to. And you do what I tell you to.”