Honestly, I no longer gave a fig about the wind in my hair and the sun on my shoulders. With each mile, each foot, each inch that we drew closer to the condo, all I wanted was to climb out of the damn car and slide into Evan’s arms. The anticipation was killing me, and despite the fact that during the drive, he’d touched me in only the most casual of ways, my body was primed—the rhythm of the engine, the vibrations of the road, and the presence of the man keeping me blissfully on edge.
When the condo was only one block ahead, rising in the distance like some fantastical phallic monolith, Evan turned to me. “Shall we just take off?” he asked. “Cruise all the way up Sheridan Road. Continue through Wisconsin and keep going until we cross over into Canada?”
Hell no. I wanted to scream the words. To rail at him for even thinking of teasing me like that. But I’d lost too many points in this game already, and so I leaned my head back, casually closed my eyes, and lifted a negligent shoulder. “Whatever you want,” I said. I opened my eyes long enough to look at him. “You’re in control, right?”
He chuckled, then kept his foot on the accelerator as we breezed past the condo. I bit back a curse, not quite believing that he was calling my bluff. Then he glanced sideways, met my eyes, and hit the brakes.
“Evan!”
“Forget Canada,” he said, twisting the wheel into a sharp left turn and then speeding back toward the building. There was heat in his eyes as he pulled up to the valet stand. “I want you naked.”
“Oh.”
As the valet opened the car door for me, Evan popped the trunk and pulled out a leather briefcase. He tossed the keys to the valet, then took my elbow and led me inside. I knew the building intimately—I lived there, after all—but right then everything seemed bright and shiny and new. The doorman more regal, the concierge more friendly. The polished stone walls glowed, and the steel doors of the elevator gleamed in invitation. I was looking at the world differently now, anticipating something wonderful. Anticipating Evan.
There was no one else in the elevator bank, and we had the car to ourselves. As soon as we stepped on, he moved closer to me, pressing his palms against the wooden paneling as he caged me with his body. “Do you remember the alley?”
It was only the controlled sensuality of his voice that kept me from laughing. Did I remember it? How could I forget?
But I said none of that. I only nodded.
“Do you remember what I said I wanted to do to you?”
Suddenly shy, I didn’t quite meet his eyes. But I nodded. Every single word was burned into my memory.
“Tell me.”
My stomach twisted with nerves, but the rest of me tingled simply from the promise of what was to come. “What?”
He leaned forward, and I felt his lips brush against my ear as he spoke, the contact sending shivers rushing through me to pool between my legs. “Tell me what I said to you. Tell me what I want to do.”
“I—” I wanted to protest, but one look at his face nixed that plan. I looked quickly away. When I spoke, my voice was so low I wasn’t certain he could even hear me. “You said you wanted to strip me bare. That you wanted my breasts in your hands and my nipples tight between your fingers.” As if in response to my words, my nipples tightened and my breasts felt suddenly needy.
He reached up and loosened the clip that held my hair. It tumbled to my shoulders and he ran his fingers through it, lifting it, then leaning even closer to graze his lips over my bare neck. I shuddered, certain I was going to come undone right at that very moment.
“I’m impressed,” he murmured. “What else?”
“You—you said you wanted to spank me. To tie me up.” My breath was ragged and I gathered my courage, then pulled away enough that I could see his eyes reflecting back every bit of heat that was coursing through me. “You said you wanted to make me come.”
His eyes seemed to go even darker with my words, but his face remained unchanged, as if any reaction would trigger an explosion. For a moment, we only stared at each other, the air between us vibrating, my entire existence hinging on the need for his touch.