She shot him a look that said she doubted him. "It's always about work with you."
"I am doing my best to manage it all. I want to spend every damn day with you," he said, his voice hard and firm. "How is it not clear where I want to be right now?"
"Then why are you telling me now?" She sounded like a cross-examiner, punching holes in his argument. "Maybe when you picked me up tonight would have been a better time, not ten seconds before you try to bring me to a hotel room for one frigging hour, Brent. One hour before you have to jet out of town. You know how that makes me feel?"
"How does it make you feel?" he asked, dreading the answer.
Mercifully, she didn't say whore. "Cheap," she hissed.
"You are not cheap. You are classy, and gorgeous, and beautiful, and why can you not see that I would much rather spend the night worshipping your perfect body, and showing you how much I fucking adore you?" he said, his voice rising again. A door opened down the hall, and a man exited his room. Brent didn't care if anyone heard him saying out loud how crazy he was for this woman. He dropped his hand to her shoulder, trailing the pad of his finger along her skin and down her bare arm. She didn't swat him away, or bite him. That was good. "I meant to tell you that he'd called, and I was all set to say something about the change, but then I showed up at your place, and you looked like this," he said, gesturing to her stunning figure in front of him.
Her lips quirked up. There, in that small crack in her anger, he had his chance. The door was ajar. He'd slink inside.
"Looked like what?" she asked, her tone segueing away from pissed, and towards that teasing seductress he loved.
"Like the only woman I have ever wanted this much," he said, resuming his path along her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He moved his hand to her waist, tracing circles with his thumb against her hipbone.
"How much?"
"So fucking much it consumes all my brainpower," he said, relief flooding him as she began to relinquish her anger. "I swear, Shan. When I see you, I can't fucking remember my name. I can barely figure out how to form words." Her expression softened, and he inched even closer, pressing his forehead lightly to hers. "You're all I see. You are perfection."
///
She looped her hands around his waist. Ah, sweet victory.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For getting so pissed," she said, her tone sweet and soft now, wafting over him. "I just hate the thought of this night ending."
"Good. I'm so damn happy you feel that way, because I do, too."
She wrapped her arms tighter around him, tugged him against her in the cool, air-conditioned hallway. "I was looking forward to spending the night with you," she said in the barest voice, and it sent tremors of desire throughout his body. "And when you told me you were leaving, it made me feel like you just didn't care. Like you care about work more than me."
"I care about you so much more," he said.
"Brent," she began, bringing her hands to his hair. "Let's go to the room. I owe you a dance, and I'm going to make it so good for you."
That was music to his ears. And his dick. And his balls.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Inside the room, she grabbed his shirt and furiously began unbuttoning it. She didn't bother to glance around the room, to take in the surroundings, to comment on the thread count or the mood lighting, or the unparalleled view of the Strip from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Nor did he.
He saw nothing but her as they made their way to the couch by the window, where she pushed him down as she finished opening his shirt. She stood in front of him, bent forward, and let her long hair tickle his chest.
Fire burned in his blood. He needed her. Desperately.
"Forgive me," she said. She was up to something. She had that twinkle in her eye.
"You don't need forgiveness," he rasped out as she began to sway, her hips moving seductively side to side. Oh holy hell of a hard-on. She was doing it. She was going to become his fucking fantasy. He loved nothing more than when she did her stripteases.
She trailed her fingernails down his chest. "How about a little music, handsome?"
He grabbed his phone from his pocket, and scrolled through his music at the speed of light. In seconds, Marcy Playground's "Sex and Candy" blasted from his phone.
"Perfect for you, babe," he said as he grasped her hips, and she wagged her index finger, tsking him.
"You know the rules." She spread her palms over his chest. He inhaled deeply, his body rocketing with pleasure at the feel of her touching him. She glided her talented palm over the hard ridge of his erection, setting off fire after fire inside his body.
She was an arsonist. And she was a tease. She took her hand away.
"No. Tell me the rules," he said.
"They're different tonight, since you're leaving in thirty minutes," she said, hiking up her dress and straddling him.
His cock throbbed in his jeans. What he wouldn't give to have her touching him right now. Hands, mouth, pussy-any or all of the above, please.
"What are the rules then?" he asked, breathing erratically as she moved on him, a stripper's dance, grinding and teasing to the music.
"No sex, because I can't bear the thought of you getting on a plane right after. Instead, we're going to play fantasy night," she said, swiveling around. She arched her back, her long hair spilling down her spine. Lust pinballed through him with every succulent move she made, every bump of her ass, every sway of her hips, every press of her against any part of his skin.
"Which fantasy? You're going to need to be a little more specific because I have about twenty million fantasies involving you," he said, holding tight to her hips as she moved up and down on him.
She shifted off him, and he nearly grabbed her and slammed her back down. Contact. He needed contact with this red-hot woman who was sending the mercury in him soaring to record highs. But she was running the show. She stood and brushed her hand from her breasts, down her belly, to her thighs. He groaned loudly, his right hand dropping to his erection.
"That one," she answered quickly, eyeing his crotch. "That fantasy. The one where you get off to me dancing for you. The one you told me about in your club."
He narrowed his eyes. She couldn't be serious. "You're here with me, and you want me to jack off instead?"
She nodded, and arched a naughty eyebrow. "I want to watch you touch yourself as I dance. I want to witness how turned on you get just from looking at me. I want to know how you've looked for the last ten years when you've lusted for me."
"You're a fucking vixen seductress," he said on a low hum.
"I know, and you love it."
"I do," he said in a hoarse whisper.
///
"Show me. Show me what I missed. Show me what I would have walked in on if I had come over some night when you were fantasizing about me," she said, her body in synch with every beat of the music.
He motioned for her to come closer. "C'mon. I want your hands on me. I want your lips on me. I want to feel you."
"You will. But right now, give me this," she said in a pleading tone, running her hands along his thighs as she wiggled her ass high in the air. She unsnapped the button of his jeans, and there were no more questions. She was winning. She was having her way. His dick ached with the need to be touched. If he had to do it himself, then that was what he'd do.
He unzipped his jeans, freeing his erection.
The look in her eyes was one for the ages. Her lips parted and she breathed heavily, sighing in admiration as he wrapped his hand around his cock. Finally some relief at last from the throbbing. The chorus of the song built, and she backed away, returning to the center of the room, inching up her skirt, revealing her panties.
Moving. Dancing. Swaying.
So fucking sensual. So incredibly seductive.
Her body was a dream.
Her eyes feasted on him with each thrust of her pelvis, each sway of her hips. The way she gazed at him unleashed tremors of pleasure inside him, knowing she was savoring the sight of his hand on his cock. His fantasy-her stripping for him as he enjoyed the view-was her fantasy too.
He stroked himself, harder, faster, not needing much right now because he was so damn aroused already. She unzipped her dress, letting the straps slide down her arms, then to her waist, revealing those twin globes of gorgeous flesh.
"Bring those beautiful tits to me," he growled out, and she came to him, sinking down on his thigh, rubbing herself on him as she brought her breasts closer. In all the times he'd been with her this go-around, he hadn't seen her breasts, so lush and full. Now, they were on display for him.
"Anything for you," she whispered as she pushed them in his face. His tongue darted out, sampling a rosy peak. "Mmm," he murmured as he licked her nipple, then drew her deeper into his mouth.