Sweet Temptation / A Private Affair. Lauren Hawkeye

just tell me no if you need to,” he reminded her before placing the silky band over her eyes. “That’s all you need to do.”

      “Stop coddling me.” Raising a hand, she tugged the tie up to glare at him balefully. “I’m here because I want to be. I want it all. So give me everything you’ve got.”

      “Challenge accepted.” Before she could suck in another of those breaths that made her tits jiggle, he’d grabbed the hand that she’d used to lift the tie and placed it against his chest. He did the same with the other and felt something tighten in his belly when her fingers dug into his pecs.

      “Don’t move your hands, no matter what I do.” Adjusting the silk over her ears, he tied the makeshift blindfold in a loose knot at the back of her head, taking care not to tangle any of her chestnut curls in the knot.

      She raised her chin, unable to curb her pride even as she gave herself over, and he took a minute just to look at her.

      She was still on her knees, and the puddle of pink satin in her lap set off the soft cream of her skin. He took a moment to trail a finger up her inner thigh, savoring the resultant quiver.

      Her waist rose above the ripe flare of her hips. She wasn’t what anyone would call skinny, with those wide hips, the softness of her belly and those full, magnificent tits. At that moment, he couldn’t imagine why a man would want anything else.

      He liked a little something extra to hold on to in the night.

      He moved his finger from the inside of her thigh to the dent in her collarbone. Stroking down, he traced the path between her breasts. This was new, this urge to go slow. Well, part of him wanted to turn her over and take her fast and hard and deep, not stopping until they both collapsed in a boneless heap. But the other part of him was enjoying this, just this right here—the buildup.

      His cock thickened as he moved his questing finger down lower, over her abdomen to the silk in her lap.

      Maybe moving just a little bit faster wouldn’t hurt.

      “What are you thinking?”

      He resisted the urge to slip his hand beneath the silk. Instead, he slid his fingers between her legs over the top of the skirt of her dress, guided to her center by her heat.

      “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I first saw you.” He circled his finger, felt the silk beneath it growing damp. “And every single time since. I should make you wait now, the way you made me.”

      “Oh, please don’t do that.” Her laugh was breathless as she arched into his touch. “I trust you. I know that you’re going to give me what I need.”

      He increased the pace, circling her clit faster until her thighs began to tremble. Fuck, but he loved this part—loved holding the potential to so much pleasure in the palm of his hand.

      “You know Theo’s friend John,” he replied mildly, slipping a finger from his free hand beneath the edge of her panties to trace her lower lips. “You know the John who has dinner with your family. But here’s my dirty little secret...every time I’ve been around you, no matter where we were or what we were doing, in my mind, I had you naked. Naked, on your back and underneath me.”

      “I’m thinking...that...you’re going to ruin me for other men.” Her words were broken, her breath coming quicker as he found her entrance and slid a finger into her welcoming heat. “Oh fuck.”

      “When you’re with me, I’m the only man you think about. I’ve already sent one packing. I’ll do it again.” Thrusting his finger in and out, he increased the pressure on her clit until she cried out, milking his finger as she shattered. It felt so good, her liquid heat surrounding his hand—he couldn’t even imagine how good it was going to feel around his cock.

      “What do you mean?” Breathless, Meg shifted back far enough that he had to remove his hands from her panties, where they wanted to live.

      “What?” His head was fuzzy, clouded with sensation—Meg’s slickness on his fingers, her scent in the air, the heat of her skin radiating out from her body.

      “You said you shooed someone off?” A steel rod snapped into place in her spine, and her eyes narrowed as she ripped off her blindfold. Usually, women regarded him with lust or satisfaction. Still, he didn’t have to be a genius to understand that Meg was pissed off, and he was responsible.

      “Ah...” Shit. He’d built his entire life around being prepared for any possible outcome, but he was caught woefully off guard right now. The power dynamic between them instantly shifted as Meg rose to her knees, jabbing a finger at his chest. She looked magnificent, like some kind of avenging goddess, but he suspected that she wouldn’t take too kindly to him saying that out loud right at that moment.

      “John. Tell me what you did.” There was no way out of this, and, if he was expecting her to give herself to him, he couldn’t lie. Still, the sinking sensation in his gut told him that this wasn’t going to end well for him.

      “Remember that guy from the wine bar?” John scrubbed a hand over the bristles of his hair. “Aaron?”

      “Uh-huh.” She tapped a finger on her thigh. “Continue.”

      “Uh... Theo met him that night, too, I guess. It seems he’s an electrician.” He cleared his throat, casting a look at Meg, hoping that was enough detail. Instead, she gestured with her hand for him to continue. “He was doing some work at the Crossing Lines office, and he asked for your number. Said he’d hoped to get it the night before but missed his chance.”

      John hoped that Meg would remember that Aaron had missed his chance because she’d connected with John. From the redness that was flooding her cheeks, though, he guessed that that wasn’t going to be the case.

      “And?” John blinked. Meg waved again expectantly. “Did you give it to him?”

      “No.” He was starting to get annoyed himself. Whether it was a reflex sneaking in to cover up his guilt was something he would examine later. “I wouldn’t just give out your number. Besides, Jo said she’d give his number to you, just to be safe.”

      “Spit it out,” she demanded, pulling up the bodice of her dress. Settling it into place, she strained to do up the zipper by herself, but when he reached to help, she batted his hand away. “I know there’s more, or you wouldn’t look like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.”

      “I told him to stay away from you,” he finally blurted out, and yeah, he was pissed as well now—pissed at himself. “I don’t want another man sniffing around you while we’re together.”

      “You are unbelievable.” Zipper half done up, Meg slid off the bed, smoothing the skirt of her dress with both hands. Turning to face him, she planted both hands on her hips. “That was so not your place.”

      “So, what, you like this guy?” John furrowed his brow. “’Cause I’m pretty sure you sent him packing and came with me instead. So what’s the big deal?”

      Meg closed her eyes, and a strangled scream of frustration emerged from her throat.

      “The big deal is that I offered you a present—me.” Pinching her lips together, she shook her head, and something very close to panic snaked through his gut. No. She wasn’t ending it, was she? Not yet. “You need to treat that with respect, or what are we doing here?”

      Stomping across the room, she slid into her wedge heels, grabbed her knockoff designer purse. He scrambled off the bed, following her, but she pointed at him, her stabbing finger just daring him to come even a step closer.

      “Don’t.”

      Shit. He’d screwed up here. Big-time.

      “Meg, tell me how to fix this.” His mouth was dry. “How do I make this right?”

      She just shook her head and exited, slamming the door behind her. John was left with an erection the size of the Empire State