With shaking fingers she undid the buttons on her black shirt. His gaze was intent and he drew in a harsh breath when he caught sight of her black silk cami.
Primal feminine power surged through her, incinerating the last of her doubts.I’m doing this to him.With slow provocation she slid her shirt over one shoulder and then the other, before letting it drop to the floor.
*
This is killingme.He was still reeling that Piper wanted him. Riveted, he watched her hook her thumbs into the top of her pants and with a sexy sway of her hips she inched them down her thighs. He glimpsed an intriguing wisp of black lace that hid her pussy, and fought the urge to rip off the sexy-as-fuck silk top she was wearing so she was fully exposed.
Don’t rush it.He’d wanted this for five years. He could wait five more minutes while she stripped for him.
He still had her plait wrapped around his fist and she hadn’t tried to pull free. There was something insanely hot about watching her peel off her clothes, when her movements were so restricted.
She looked at him with those big blue eyes of hers. Her lips were parted and her breath uneven.To hell with waiting.
He released her hair and ripped off his tee-shirt. She gave an appreciative sigh as she gazed at his chest, and ran the tips of her fingers over his pecs. “I love your tattoos.”
“Good.” He huffed out a laugh at the look of awe her face. He’d never much cared if a woman admired his ink. But Piper…yeah, he liked that she loved his tats.
She gave him another of those shy smiles, and combined with her standing before him half naked, it damn well blew his mind. Then she bent over, so he got an eyeful of her cleavage, and tugged her pants down her legs before kicking them aside along with her shoes. She immediately dropped about three inches.
“Put them back on.”
“What?” She looked at him, all innocent and sultry wrapped in one irresistible package. He swallowed a groan. He’d never guessed Piper was such a perfect tease.
“Your shoes. Put them back on.”
She hesitated, as though she thought he was joking. “Really?”
“They’re fucking hot.” He unbuckled his belt and tugged open the zipper on his jeans. The relief made him dizzy. “I want you naked in those heels.”
“Okay.” She sounded as though she’d never done anything like that before. As she wobbled back into her heels, he focused on her gorgeous legs and the tantalizing glimpse of skin between the lacy edge of her top and matching thong. “Do you have a shoe fetish?”
“I do now.” He only just stopped himself from laughing again. She’d been so prim when she asked him that, standing there in nothing but her sexy lingerie. “You’re corrupting me.”
This time her smile was anything but chaste. “I like the thought of corrupting you.”
He hooked a finger into the top of her camisole and tugged her toward him. “I think that’s my line, baby.”
She cradled his jaw. How could that be such a turn on? “Baby?” There was a faint mocking note in her voice, and only then did he realize what he’d called her.
It’d just slipped out, the way it had in all the fantasies he’d harbored about her.
“Yeah. You got a problem with it?” He tugged at her camisole, and she shimmied out of it before once again rubbing her palm across his jaw.
“No. It’s kind of sexy. No one’s ever called me that before.”
“Get used to it, baby.” He grinned when she pouted those luscious lips at him and then raked his gaze down her body.
She was a vision. Her black push-up bra had tiny red roses along the edge, displaying her rack to gorgeous advantage. For a second he almost ripped it off her, but hell, he liked the way her tits almost-but-not-quite spilled over the lacy cups.
She traced her fingers over his chest, lingering on the tat that covered his left pec, as though she was memorizing every curve and line of the intricate ink. Her touch was electric, but oddly unsure, as though she half expected him to push her away.
Crazy.
Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans. He smothered a groan but she didn’t yank them down his legs. What was she waiting for?
“Uh,” she looked up at him. “Do you have a condom?”
Disbelief slammed through him. He always carried a couple, in case of emergencies. But going to his parents for tea was the last place he’d expected to need one.
