Embrace My Heart(38)

She had Yancey’s painting brought up to her office. She didn’t want to risk it being left down on the floor and seen by another perspective buyer. The fact that it had already been sold might not matter. Vectra had seen people become totally resistant to viewing other work once one piece sparked that desire. The fact that the piece belonged to another and that the other was the gallery’s owner could easily put Vectra in the uncomfortable position of having to sell it. Either that or risk losing a future patron.

Better safe than sorry, she reasoned and went to collect the canvas. She’d been toying with the idea of hanging the piece in her office and considered a wall behind the gray sectional sofa that hugged it. Canvas in hand, she stepped up onto the sofa and positioned the piece on the wall as she judged the location.

It took only a few minutes for Vectra to decide she’d prefer to enjoy Yancey Croachman’s captivating work from the privacy of her own home. Carefully, she eased the canvas to the floor, leaning it along one of the sofa arms.

“Nice.”

Vectra had just straightened, still standing on the sofa, when Qasim’s voice rumbled out. She turned and found him just inside the office, leaning against the doorframe, hands hidden deep in the pockets of his dark trousers.

He appeared casual enough. His tie was discarded, and his collar was undone, revealing a glimpse of toned licorice skin. In spite of his cool, relaxed stance, Vectra wasn’t deceived. It was all too easy to sense the man’s ability to shift gears from relaxed to alert.

She’d dressed comfortably that day, choosing a simple mauve long-sleeved tunic dress. The frock easily transitioned to more business-appropriate attire with the addition of the matching high-heeled sandals that were currently under her desk. At that moment, however, Vectra felt decidedly underdressed.

Qasim left his spot at the door. “Your business manager let me in before she locked up.”

Vectra smiled, aiming for easygoing instead of hot and bothered. “You did say nine.” She glanced at the big-faced clock on a far wall of the office.

“So I did.” Slowly, Qasim made his way toward where she stood barefoot in the middle of the sofa.

He stopped before her and took his time, raking his deep-set ebonies along her body. The dress, in no way clinging, did a superb job of showing off her very model-worthy legs, which he’d had the pleasure of feeling wrapped around his back many times the night before.

The intense throbbing and clenching she’d been riddled with at the start of her day returned with a vengeance. Vectra thought she had never felt so exposed, so eager.

She swallowed, following the reflex by clearing her throat. “I, um...I was just going to get my shoes.”

He wouldn’t let her pass when she moved. “What for?”

Vectra swallowed again. “I thought we were going out to dinner,” she said quietly.

He touched her then, that beckoning stare of his fixed on the ascent of his fingers, grazing from just below her knee to where the hem of her dress ended several inches above.

“Did I say that?” he queried, mock confusion claiming his rich voice.

Vectra bit the corner of her bottom lip just after a moan betrayed her need. “You wanted to see me.” She attempted to cover the slip by issuing the unnecessary reminder. The hand that had been riding the curve of her leg suddenly cupped her thigh.

“So I did,” he admitted.

Her mind and body flooded with sensation, and she closed her eyes. Qasim tracked his other hand along her other leg and charted a path that bypassed the hem of her dress.

He didn’t stop until he met the barrier of her panties. He cupped her crotch then and worked her scandalously beneath a wickedly talented thumb. Vectra couldn’t have quieted her moans had she tried. Which she didn’t.

Unsteady, she planted her hands on Qasim’s shoulders, loving their unyielding width. She very much wanted to feel the sinewy muscle and perfect skin naked against her fingertips. Doing anything other than holding on for support was out of the question.

Ruthlessly, he tended to her clit, sending the nub of highly sensitized nerves into frenzy. The wide pad of his thumb made slow rotations clockwise and counter. He nuzzled his beautifully crafted face into her belly, breathing her in as he pleasured her and found his own in her reaction.

Vectra dug in her nails and arched toward the delicious things Qasim did beneath her dress. She could barely stand up straight and rocked insistently toward what his touch promised. She planted her knee against the upper quadrant of his chest, wanting to grant him as much access as he needed.

She was almost done for. She knew it. He hadn’t even taken off her panties. She urged him on, her words slurred, practically indecipherable.