Nights With Him(79)
His eyes widened with anticipation. “What is it?” he asked, heat roaring through his body with ideas, images of what his sexy, naughty woman might want.
“This is going to be kind of dirty,” she said, her mouth falling open in an O, her eyes wild. Blood pounded in his head. He hoped she was going to say the very thing he wanted, the thing he’d been planning to ask her for in bed. Tension rolled through his bones.
“I like dirty,” he growled.
She moved closer. They were face-to-face, inches apart in their cushy, leather first-class seats with more than three hundred other passengers, not to mention pilots and flight attendants on this jet with them. But she was all he saw.
She reached for his collar, played with the edge of the fabric in her fingers, her eyes still on him. “You know how I like it when you play with my ass?”
Lust thundered in him. He was engulfed by hot, raw desire for her. “Yes.”
“I want more.”
He swallowed thickly. He wasn’t sure he could speak right now. He knew he couldn’t move. He was so fucking hard it hurt. “Oh God,” he groaned.
“I never have before, and I want to. With you. Do you want to?” she asked, her pretty voice so straightforward. He’d never been asked before. He’d never encountered anyone so blunt with her wishes.
He threaded his hand through her hair, gripping the back of her head as the strands fell like silk waterfalls across his fingers. “I dream about your perfect little ass. I fantasize about how it would feel. You have no fucking idea how much I want that.”
She shivered against him, a sexy little movement that revealed how utterly in synch they were in the bedroom. She was his perfect fantasy. She was his perfect reality. She was everything he’d ever wanted, even if she’d never asked for this. But she had asked for it, and he was going to do everything he could to make it perfect for her.
“We have to wait ‘til after my keynote though,” she said, her voice a soft warning.
He laughed lightly. “Yes. Of course. I do want you to be able to walk.”
“But after that, you can have me.”
“I wish your keynote were ending this very second,” he said, and dropped his mouth to hers, consuming her in a hot, wet kiss that would have turned into so much more if they weren’t on this goddamn plane.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mais Oui
She was radiant in the gaslight from the streetlamps along the Seine.
The soft glow illuminated her, a faint golden light at night that made her all the more breathtaking. She wore heels and a skirt, her strong legs on display for him, always for him, and a pretty top that was falling off her shoulder. He’d already had her twice today. The second, the very nanosecond they’d arrived at the hotel room, he took her. The door had fallen shut and he’d thrown her on the bed, stripped off her jeans and his, and entered her. It was a hard, fast fuck, but after that red-eye flight it was what they both desperately required. It wasn’t enough to quench his desire, though, and after a nap, he’d put her on all fours, and made her cry out his name once more.
Then they’d behaved, spending the afternoon working. She’d practiced her talk alone in the room at the Sofitel Hotel in the 8th arrondissement, near the Champs-Elysées and the Louvre, while he’d gone to a cafe around the block and worked on his laptop. He’d drunk espresso at a sidewalk table, and watched the Parisians stroll by as he dealt with business matters related to vibrators, bullets, and butterflies. It seemed quite fitting to work on Joy Delivered business in a city like this, where anything goes and everything went, where the residents embraced sex and sexuality. Hell, the politicians here often had mistresses. Paris was a city that celebrated passion.
Judging by the P&L numbers his chief financial officer had just sent over, there were plenty of Americans and Upper East Siders, as the demographic data told him, who enjoyed the full range of Joy Delivered products, from basic massagers to butt plugs to leather floggers. But yet, there was such a vocal outcry to shut down the damn BDSM clubs, even though Denkler’s campaign had tried the whole “safer for everyone” route. Admittedly, it was working the tiniest bit, based on the new numbers Henry had sent over earlier today. That gave Jack a needed boost of confidence that turning the tide was possible. It wouldn’t be easy, but it seemed doable, even though time was running out on the campaign.
The whole situation had left Jack with a bad taste in his mouth. Politics and sex were terrible bedfellows. Ironic too, because there was so much demonizing of the clubs on the outside, but he bet some of those same opponents had red marks on their asses from using toys behind closed doors.