“What?”
The sensation of his fingers seemed to linger on my scalp and made my skin tingle. Dumbfounded, I stared up at him. Usually when someone I didn’t know or didn’t trust touched me it felt like bugs were crawling on my skin. I have sensory issues, which is yet another one of the reasons my love life is barren. Hard to date a guy when his touch makes you flinch away. But this guy—this hot-ass potential psycho—touched me and it felt … good. How odd was that?
He withdrew his hand from my hair and I mourned the loss of his touch even as I tried to puzzle out my body’s odd reaction to him. We continued to stare at each other until my neck started to hurt from looking up at him. I rattled my handcuffed hands against the chair I was in. “How about you unlock me, and I’ll be more than happy to haul my ass out of here and take care of my hair myself.”
He shook his head and hesitated, an intense look of concentration coming over his face, then he reached out and ever so lightly ran his knuckles over my throat. Bliss. If his touch in my hair tingled, skin-to-skin contact with this man burned a path of arousal straight to my pussy. A soft moan escaped me as he continued to stroke my neck, now with his fingertips, and he let out what sounded almost like a sigh of relief, then groaned in response. I promised myself I wouldn’t look to see if he was aroused. I mean his crotch was right at my eye level. All I had to do was glance and … oh yeah. He was aroused. Holy moly, was he aroused. And so was I.
Very.
Damn, no wonder my few friends and sister were always going on and on about how much fun sex was. If it felt anything like the pleasure my nerves were singing with from him simply caressing my neck, I could see the appeal. His rough fingertips stroking over my throat felt indecently good, sending little bursts of sunlight through my blood. When he touched me, the rest of the world vanished, leaving me feeling like I was alone in the universe with this intoxicating man.
“Baby,” he said in a rumbling purr, “you have the softest skin.”
I looked away quickly, hating the way my face heated and his chuckle.
To my disappointment and relief, he stopped petting me. “With you blushing that pretty from me touching your neck, I can believe that you’re not Sarah.”
I snorted and looked up at him, much more comfortable without all that pussy-tingling heat building up as he touched me. “It’s true. Look at my chest, for Pete’s sake.”
“What?”
Curving my back, I thrust my chest out against the old bar t-shirt that I’d thrown on after my shift. The shirt was tight, and a faded navy blue, with a deep enough neckline to tempt men to throw money at my tits. Not exactly the classiest thing, but I would get an online accounting and investment job soon enough and I’d never have to wear anything low-cut again. Would be nice to meet guys who look at my eyes before my boobs. Speaking of guys looking at my chest ... Mystery man in his patch-covered black leather vest and sinful worn blue jeans that hugged his thick legs and huge dick—yes, huge—well, he was currently staring at my breasts like he wanted to lick them. My hormones were all for that but my mind wasn’t.
“I don’t have implants; Sarah does. Think about it. If you’ve met her, you’ve noticed her tits. Or, if like the rest of the adult male population in the world, you’ve seen her Playboy spread when she won Pole Dancer of the Year in Vegas, you would notice that I’m not carrying around gravity-defying boobs attached to my body.” Okay, I was actually pretty jealous that she could wear shirts without a bra, but I was on a roll.
He blinked at my chest and his jaw clenched. When he reached out to touch my breast I tried to flinch away, but he crouched down again and caught my gaze. I found myself staring at him, mesmerized by the perfection of his rough, male beauty. Back at the club I’d thought he was hot, but now I realized that he was just plain devastating. So grown-man sexy it made my pussy soaking wet.
He made a soothing sound that had me almost sighing in pleasure. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re as skittish as a virgin.”
I lifted my chin and laughed, praying he didn’t see the way my ears were burning. “Like a virgin. As if.”
His eyelids shuttered half shut and a wave of warmth came off his body and caressed mine. “A virgin?”
“I said as if, as in I’m not. I do it all the time. I am totally not a virgin.” I internally winced at how dumb that sounded, but I wasn’t going to admit to this sex god that I was about as inexperienced sexually as a person could get.
“You’re killing me, baby.” He stared at me, then slowly leaned closer and rubbed his lips against my neck while taking an audible breath. “Nice.”