Maxence fumbled with his tie and shirt. As soon as he had that abominable tie and a few buttons of his collar undone, he yanked the tuxedo shirt and his undershirt off over his head and tossed them aside.
“Your back,” Dree murmured against his lips. “Come on, I want to see what that tattoo is.”
There’d be time for that later. He craved the touch and taste of her skin.
He wrestled with the cummerbund and enclosure on his tuxedo pants. The stupid thing wouldn’t come off. There was some sort of a clasp in the back, but he couldn’t undo it. “The stupid cummerbund,” he whispered to her.
Dree reached around his back, her curvaceous body a temptation that he could not believe was in his arms, and she fiddled with the cloth strip until it loosened and half-fell off of him. She pulled it from around his waist with a flourish and almost flung it behind her. “Got it!”
“Excellent.” He was reaching for her corset, ready to figure out how to take it off her. He hoped it would unlace or be released in some complicated manner. Hooks, maybe. Or a long row of tiny buttons. Something womanly and female.
Dree asked, “Hey, what’s wrong with this cummerbund?”
“What about it?” he growled, grasping her hair and raking his teeth down her neck.
“It’s stiff or something.” She scrutinized the clasp and picked at something with her fingernail. “It feels like it’s part plastic, but it’s nice fabric when you touch it.”
Maxence leaned back. “Let me see it.”
“I’ve just about got it.” She seized something with her fingernails and pulled on it, unsheathing a long, thin metallic strip with a silk-wrapped handle on one end. The metal made a wah-wah sound as she whipped it through the air.“Whoa!”
Maxence ducked. “Be careful!”
The end of the metallic strip sliced the couch.
White feathers flew everywhere in a flurry.
Dree slammed the strip onto the floor. “Oh my God! It’s dangerous!”
Maxence inspected it, noting the razor-sharp edges along both sides and the wicked point at the tip. “It wasin the cummerbund.I’ll bet there’s another one in his belt.”
Dree was aghast. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Maxence considered his options as to what he could say. “As I mentioned, my friend Arthur left clothes here for me because I didn’t have time to pack before I left Monagasquay. Arthur has unusual talents.”
“Considering all the weird stuff that happened to us in the last couple of days, I don’t want to know anything more about Arthur, if this really is about Arthur and not your thing.”
Maxence raised his hands and laughed. “I swear on everything that is holy, this cummerbund belongs to Arthur, and this is Arthur’s little toy.”
“What, is he an assassin?”
“I would never dare ask.”
“Never mind. I don’t want to know.” She grabbed Max’s hand and tugged, leading him toward the bedroom while wearing that scarlet teddy that accentuated her curves.
Dear Lord, she was still wearing the exquisite high heels that flashed their red soles at him when she walked. Her hips swung as she towed him toward the bed, and he had eyes only for her.
Maxence sat on the side of the bed, legs spread, with his chest bare. He braced his hands on his knees and stared at her, his eyes steady.
He said, “Strip.”
Dree looked aside, uncomfortable or embarrassed by his command.
Maxence drew her attention back to him and said, “Strip.”
He was careful not to be too convincing with women until after he’d made sure they wanted him, but after that, the convincing was part of the fun. He knew some men in his position liked compliant women. They wanted submissives who would do anything they wanted with a snap.
Maxence liked sexy, powerful women, and he liked them on their knees, or their hands and knees, or tied up for him to pillage.
