Letting Go(88)

“What time would you like to go? And what shall I wear?” she asked.

There was excitement and anticipation in her eyes. She was looking forward to their excursion. Already his mind was alive with the possibilities. He would be very exacting in his plans for her. He wanted this to be perfect.

“Something sexy,” he murmured. “A short cocktail dress that shows off your gorgeous legs. And heels. Definitely heels. I want to fuck you in them in front of everyone.”

Her eyes went cloudy with answering lust. She shivered delicately in his embrace as if the image appealed to her every bit as much as it did him. He hoped to hell it did.

“But it doesn’t really matter,” he added. “Because shortly after we arrive, I’ll have you naked and bound.”

She sucked in her breath and he studied her closely, searching for any sign that she wouldn’t be up for what he had planned. But there was no resistance that he could see. Just intrigue and arousal.

“What time?” she whispered. “What time will I need to be ready?”

“We’ll have dinner out. Be ready when I get home. We’ll eat and take our time and arrive at The House around nine. Things don’t really kick off there until later in the evening. And I want the whole damn world to see what is mine. I want every man there eaten alive with jealousy over what is mine and will never be theirs. They can look but they damn well can’t touch.”

She smiled, pleasure shining in her eyes. “I like that you’re so possessive of me, Dash. It makes me feel . . . safe. And so very cherished.”

“I’m glad,” he said gruffly. “Because you are.”

Her eyes suddenly widened and panic flared in their depths.

“Oh my God, dinner! I completely forgot dinner, Dash. I got sidetracked when you came in. Damn it, I hope it’s not burned!”

As she spoke, she scrambled out of his lap, and laughing, he let her go, watching as she fled toward the kitchen.

He followed behind and his heart clenched when she turned from the open oven, her look utterly crestfallen.

“It’s ruined. I’m so sorry, Dash. I had planned a special dinner for us and timed it so when you got home we’d eat immediately.”

She looked so adorable that he could only cross the room and pull her into his arms, shutting the oven with one hand and reaching up to turn it off.

“Let it burn,” he murmured. “Get dressed and I’ll take you out to eat. I don’t give a damn what I eat as long as I get to be with you.”





TWENTY-FOUR





JOSS was nervous, excited and extremely aroused, all rolled into a bundle of nerves. She knew, without arrogance, that she looked her best. She’d been very careful with her appearance, no matter that Dash had told her she’d be naked in short order.

But she wanted to look good, not only for her own confidence, but for Dash. She wanted him to be proud of her. To be proud to have her at his side and on his arm when they walked into The House.

Dash helped her from his car and tucked her arm underneath his as they walked toward the entrance.

How different this trip was compared with her last, when she’d been terrified and so nervous her stomach had been one gigantic ball of nausea. At least this time she didn’t have to go through the motions of the social rooms downstairs where people gathered to hook up for the night. No worry over picking the wrong man or someone who would hurt her.

Dash was with her, his possession evident in his every expression and movement. There would be no choosing another man tonight. Her choice was made. Dash and only Dash would take her through the paces of whatever he planned.

Not knowing exactly what it was he planned for her added an element of intrigue and only heightened her arousal. Her nipples were taut and aching. Her pussy was clenched tight and she knew she was wet already.

Dash escorted her through the social rooms where he got her a glass of wine. But she knew that the biggest reason he made an appearance here was because he wanted to show her off and that gave her ego a huge, much-needed boost.

He was proud of her. It was evident in his gaze. It never left her, scorching a path over her skin every time it raked over her. He barely left her side even to get the wine. He was always within touching distance, his hand on her, his arm wrapped around her.

But when Craig, the man Joss had been with that first night, entered the room, his gaze sweeping over the women with a predatory gleam, Dash immediately stiffened and drew Joss farther into his side.

His hold on her screamed possessiveness and he met Craig’s mocking gaze with a frigid look of his own.

“Corbin,” Craig said curtly, nodding in Dash’s direction. Then his gaze swept appreciatively over Joss. “You’re looking beautiful, Mrs. Breckenridge.”