Dirty Daddy(258)

My hands move over his crotch, and I hook my fingers on his belt. Biting on my bottom lip, I start to unbuckle it, swaying my hips at a slow tempo. Once the buckle is free, I pull the whole belt out from its loops; in one fluid movement, I place it behind his head, and grabbing both ends with my hands, I force him to lock eyes with me. Moving as if he were in a trance, he places his hands on my legs, his fingertips brushing against the hemline of my dress. As he motions to hike up my dress, I pull the belt from around his neck and snap it against his arm.

“No,” I say firmly, his eyes widening in surprise. He’s not used to having anyone take control, let alone a woman. Slowly, he takes his hands off of me, a grin of defiance on his face. Show me what you got, his eyes seem to dare me. Grinning back at him, I go around his chair, and once I’m behind him, I lean in and place both my hands on his chest. “You’ve never met a woman like me, Ethan,” I whisper into his ear, my fingertips tracing the contour of his hard pecs. Christ, what is he hiding under his shirt—marble and steel?

“What makes you think that?” he says, that defiant grin still on his face.

“Trust me,” I whisper into his ear again, my fingers sliding over to the collar of his shirt. One by one, I undo the buttons on his shirt, his chiseled chest coming into view. Yanking on the shirt, I bare his chest and let my fingers brush over his skin; his muscles seem like hard ropes of manliness, and something inside of me tells me to get a better view. “I’m not like the others.”

I walk around the chair again, and stopping right in front of him, I let my eyes wander over his naked torso. Not that I have a choice, as his hard pectorals and chiseled abs demand all of my attention. I mean, he has an 8-pack, for God’s sake. It seems that he’s part of that very special breed of men; money and pussy simply isn’t enough for them, and they want perfection in everything they are and do. I can’t wait to see if the rest of his body matches what I’m seeing right now…

Focus, I need to focus. Taking one deep breath, I turn on my heels and show him my back. I sway my hips gently and bring my hands up to my shoulders; slowly, I push down the straps of my dress, and they fall over my arms.

“Go on, I know you want to,” I whisper at Ethan, looking at him over my shoulder. As if my words were binding, he raises his hands and places them right below my neck, his fingers grabbing at my zipper. Carefully, he starts pulling it down my back, his knuckles brushing against my naked skin as he goes. A shiver goes up my spine as I feel his touch, and I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath to regain my focus. I can’t fuck this up.

When he has pulled the zipper all the way down to my lower back, he finally takes his hands off of me, and I push the drooping fabric of my dress down to my waist. I keep on softly swaying my hips to the sensuous tune, my back turned to him. I know how eager he must be to see me in my bra, the curve of my breasts peering over the cups… So I just make him wait; I’m the one in control here, after all.

My eyes are closed, but I feel the whole room fading away around me. As far as I’m concerned, only Ethan and I are here right now. The other women, the casting director, the interns… As far as I’m concerned, they don’t even exist in the same universe as Ethan and I.

I throw my head back, my hair cascading down my shoulders as I move, and then I slide my hands up the side of my body. Hooking my fingers on the clasp of my bra, I pull it free and let the straps fall down my arms. As the cups start to droop, I throw the whole thing to the floor and place both my hands over my breasts, squeezing gently with my fingers. Everyone can see what I’m doing, except for Ethan, and that’s exactly how I want it. He’s the one I want to tease and torture, and I’m putting up this show for him only.

When I turn to face him, I keep my hands covering my breasts, hiding my hard nipples from him. One by one, I peel my fingers off, and I can’t help but grin as my eyes find something bulging between his legs. It seems that my curiosity was well founded; what he’s hiding underneath his pants seems to be at least as impressive as what he had under his shirt… If this wasn’t work, I’d want nothing more than go down on my knees, unbutton his pants and… God, my mind is wandering off again. Fuck, I have a job to do here.

“You want me, don’t you?” I purr, allowing my fingers to go down my stomach; when my fingertips meet my waistline, I move my hands to my hips and then hook my fingers on the fabric of the dress. Moving my hips, I pull it down and let it fall at my feet in a heap. “Cat got your tongue?” I ask him, taking one step toward him. His eyes are wide, and his lips slightly parted, almost as if he couldn’t hide how much he wants to fit them around my nipples. Well, I might just let him do it.