“Right now.”
You know I have to punish you. Rebecca’s words come back to me. He’s punishing me, absolutely torturing me. Making me pay a price for daring to take control. But deep down, I come to a conclusion. I came close to breaking through his wall or he wouldn’t be doing this. It’s this information that makes the torture bearable.
I take the dress, and I notice he is careful not to touch me. I pull the chiffon material over my head and the silk rasps over my nipples and skin. I am so ultra-sensitized I think I could come with one touch of his mouth in the right place. And I believe there would be many right places at this juncture in time.
The dress falls into place and Chris’s eyes never leave mine. “The shoes.”
I slip them on and he walks around me, giving me a careful, penetrating inspection before stopping before me. “Beautiful, baby. You look stunning.”
My chin lifts. “But not stunning enough to fuck right now.”
“More than enough to fuck, just not yet.” He leans in, his lips by my ear, but he is careful not to touch me anywhere else. “Because when I do, you’ll be so hot and wet, you’ll be mine to do with what I want. And believe me baby — I want plenty.”
“You’re punishing me.”
He looks at me and his eyes soften as he brushes his knuckles over my shoulder. Goosebumps lift all over my skin. “Does that feel like punishment?”
More like pure bliss. “No.”
“Then you have your answer.”
***
We step into the hallway and Chris takes my hand, his eyes meeting mine, and I know he can see the sweet relief washing over me at his touch. His green eyes dance with amber heat and he leads me down the hallway, all masculine sensuality and raw power. I am insanely into this man. He pushes every button I own, in all the right ways. Every second I am with him, I feel more alive.
Another couple waits by the elevator, and we step inside behind them. Chris leans against the wall and pulls my back against his front. I soften against all his hardness, and his fingers curl around my waist, where they begin a slow caress. My nipples pucker against the thin material and I become ultra-aware of how naked I am underneath the dress.
The man across from me glances down, stroking my chest with a stare that makes me want to smack him for the woman he is with. I turn in Chris’s arms, giving the man my back. “Where are we headed?”
“In light of recent events, I thought food before wine seemed a good idea.”
“Yes. Please.”
The elevator dings and we let the other couple exit first. Chris takes my hand and I hit the elevator button to hold the door. “I need to go upstairs.” I glance down at my dress, my nipples puckering too obviously.
His lips quirk. “I already planned to have the hotel bring you a shawl and a coat to match the dress in case the evening gets chilly.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you.”
“You just let me take care of everything tonight.” He pulls me under his arm and I let go of the elevator button as we step into the lobby. Let Chris take care of everything. It is a thrilling, dangerous idea, I cannot help but crave.
Chapter Twenty-Three
We are escorted to a circular private dining room. Chris holds the chair for me as I settle next to an oval window overlooking green mountains and a glorious blue skyline. I slide my purse onto the chair and I am in awe of the view. “It’s spectacular.”
Chris claims the window seat across from me and slips out of his leather jacket he’d put on as we’d left the room. “So is the food, but since I’m taking you to a special winery that will serve their vintages along with fruit and cheese, I suggest we eat fairly light. I thought we’d visit the restaurant for brunch tomorrow before we leave, if you’d like?”
“Yes. Very much. Sounds perfect.” I am warmed by the romance of this place and his actions, but I tell myself not to get carried away. This isn’t romance. It’s a sexy adventure. After all, I’m not wearing panties or a bra.
“Anything look good?” Chris asks after I’ve studied the menu a moment.
“Everything. I’m starving.” It’s nearly three and we haven’t eaten since early morning.
A waiter appears and Chris arches a brow at me. “Ready?”
“I am. Cobb salad for me.”
Chris hands both of our menus to the waiter. “Burger for me. Well done. And bring us a bottle of the recommended wine selection — the Robert Craig Zinfandel.”
The waiter gives a small bow. “Coming right up, Mr. Merit.”
“No beer for you?” I ask when the waiter departs.