THE AFTERNOON WENT by almost too quickly. Her late start to the morning meant she hadn’t had much time to work. But her postorgasmic haze had fueled her creative fire, and she was happy with her progress, even though she’d ended up working on one of her metal insects, weaving the ribbons and bits of old silk through it, using chemicals and heat on the copper to attain different color effects. She often felt as if she were using her time unwisely when she worked on her metal bugs, but today it felt like the right thing to do.
She’d left her studio and taken her time getting ready, lingering over her bath, which she’d dropped her favorite scented oils into, then layered on the same scent with her body lotion, massaging it carefully into her skin. She’d kept her makeup light—a little blush to highlight her cheekbones, a few coats of mascara and her favorite lip gloss. She’d dressed most carefully in a tangerine silk slip dress that set off her toffee-colored skin and her green eyes, then added a simple pair of green glass teardrop earrings. With an understanding of how jewelry could get in the way of play, she wore no other accessories. And no panties, as Duff had—sort of—requested.
Smiling at herself in the armoire mirror, she remembered her earlier session on the end of the bed, naked, thighs parted, and her body gave a sharp surge of desire. If Duff didn’t get there soon and take her away, she wouldn’t be able to sit down without soaking through her dress.
“Like that won’t be a problem once he’s right in front of me,” she muttered to her reflection. Then, rolling her eyes, she shook her hands out and moved into the living room, checking her bag to make sure she had everything she needed—toothbrush, panties (despite what Duff had said), a pair of shorts and a tank top, her facial cleanser and lotion. It was her briefest overnight kit, and she wasn’t sure why it made her nervous to think about spending the weekend at his place. Maybe because it meant she was giving up a little more control over the situation? She’d always preferred to have a play partner or lover—which wasn’t always necessarily the same thing—at her place, on her own stomping grounds. But when Duff had suggested—hell, when he’d stated—that she was going to his place tonight, there had been no argument from her, no question in her mind. He seemed to have that effect on her.
She checked her purse once more to make sure her keys were in there, then looked out the window. It was still light out, although the sky was beginning to turn pink and gold with the impending sunset. The street was quiet, empty. She checked her phone. Five minutes to six, and he hadn’t called or texted to say he was running late.
“You are being ridiculous,” she told herself.
She spent the next five minutes checking email on her cell phone, pretending she felt calmer. But when she finally heard his bike pull up out front, then his heavy footsteps on her front deck, her heart pounded in her chest, and she had to order herself to calm the hell down and breathe.
But when she opened the door and he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her in for a long, hot kiss, her breath stuttered and all she could manage to do was melt into him.
CHAPTER
Eight
LORD, THE MAN was all pure masculine power and just the right touch; his hands on her set off shimmering sparks of need all over her skin, in her hair, on her cheeks—everywhere he touched her. It was several moments after he’d pulled back before she realized they were both still fully dressed and standing in her doorway. The scorching heat between them made her feel naked—made her want to be.
Licking her lips, she found all of her lip gloss gone.
“You look quite fetching, princess,” Duff told her.
She found herself batting her lashes. “Do I?”
“Always,” he said, his voice a low, husky rumble in his massive chest. “But never more than tonight, when I’m taking you to my lair to do lewd, wicked things to you.”
She laughed. “Oh, it’s your ‘lair,’ is it?”
“Damn right. Otherwise known as Jamie’s house, which he’s been kind enough to lend me the use of while I get settled and get the shop opened, since he’s always at Summer’s place, anyway. But my toy bag is there, so ‘lair’ is not a bad description.”
“Why do I think anywhere you are could fairly be called that?”
He grinned, his cheeks dimpling, and she had to order her knees not to soften and buckle. “Because you’re getting to know me. Shall we go, my lovely?”
“Sure. Are we on your bike tonight?”
“We are. I could’ve borrowed the truck from the shop, but there’s something about having your naked legs wrapped around me that I enjoy.”
Mmm. Me, too.
“Okay. Let me grab my jacket.”
She opened the small hall closet and pulled her black leather jacket out, and was surprised when Duff helped her into it.
“You know,” she told him, “it still always surprises me when you’re such a gentleman.”
“Rather than an oaf? As I believe I’ve mentioned before, you’ve obviously been hanging out with far too many oafs.”
“That’s the truth.”
“Maybe sometime you’ll tell me more about it. But not now. Let’s keep you in this flirtatious headspace.”
“Am I being flirtatious?” she asked, batting her lashes at him once more.
“You are, which you know perfectly well, little minx. Not that I’m complaining. I like it when you flirt. With me.”
Was he teasing, or had she heard a hint of possessiveness from him? That usually would have set off alarms in her head, but from Duff, she liked it.
He slipped an arm around her waist and they stepped onto the small front deck. Taking her keys from her hand, he locked the front door, then walked her to his motorcycle. His Harley was one fine piece of machinery, as utterly masculine as he was and just as badass. He helped her into her helmet, then slung his on and lifted her onto the back of the bike before mounting it himself and gunning the big engine to life. Then, with her legs tight against his strong thighs, her arms around his waist and the rumbling engine vibrating between her thighs, they made the short drive across town.