“Sit there.” I point at the bench behind West, where his cane leans against the side. It has no back or sides; a completely no-nonsense design. His thick eyebrow raises, but my boss turns and limps to where I’ve pointed.
“I can stand just fine, you know.” West lowers down with a gentle sigh, and god, even sitting, his limbs are long and strong, his torso broad, his head barely lower than mine. This man is a magnificent sculpture, bad leg or no.
His eyes heat as I step forward, coming to stand between his spread thighs. Gesturing for his hands, I tug his gloves off one by one, yanking on the tips of the canvas fingers.
“I can do that too,” West says, clearly amused. “I can even tie my own shoelaces, darling.”
Ha.
“Yeah, well. Maybe I like being the bossy one for a change.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out like a confession. My cheeks heat. “And maybe I like having an excuse to touch you, your lordship.”
West’s grin fades and he tips up my chin, waiting patiently until I finally meet his eye. His expression is so soft, it makes my pulse skitter. “You don’t need an excuse for that, Maddy.”
Woof.
All the air rushes out of my lungs, and I stand there between my boss’s sturdy thighs, gaze locked on his, my mouth dry. An insistent ache throbs between my legs, and yet I’m frozen like a badger in headlights.
What do I do?
I’ve talked such a big game, but now my handsome older boss is letting me touch him. So what the hell do I do?
“It’s, um.” My tongue darts out, wetting my lips, and I take a deep breath before setting my palms on West’s shoulders. He’s so warm and sturdy andalivebeneath the fabric of his clothing. “The thing is, I want to do the whole wild, sexy affair thing. Pulling each other into closets; despoiling all the furniture late at night. For sure. But I’ve never done anything like this before, so I’m not sure how to… how to start.”
Has my face ever burned brighter? Has my skin ever flushed hotter? Have I ever wanted to melt into a steaming puddle so badly? I don’t think so.
The deepest part of me braces, muscles clenching, ready for West to scoff and call this whole thing off. After all, why would an older guy who’s seen so much of the world want to waste his time with a fumbling late bloomer like me?
But West nods slowly, his expression as smooth as ever, even as a storm rages in his gray eyes.
“Never?” he rasps. You know, he doesn’tseemput off. If anything, he seems thrilled, in a possessive, manly kinda way, and a little guilty for feeling that way. Not guilty enough to keep from gripping my hips and squeezing them gently, though.
I shake my head. “Never.”
After all, I’ve always been picky. Over the years, I never found the guys my age worth pining over, and never wanted something physical without all the right feelings attached. Besides, it’s hard to build up a proper crush when you’re constantly moving on to the next place, both eyes firmly fixed on the horizon.
Then I hit twenty five, and it got kinda embarrassing too. Whoever I eventually got busy with, they’d have to be someone I could trust not to laugh or judge. All those guys make so much noise about wanting a virgin, wanting to be a woman’s first, but you justknowthey’d scoff about you being clumsy. No, thank you.
But West isn’t like that. Even if his lizard brain is clearly loving the idea of having me all to himself, he’s not being gross about it. It’s not like I’m a summit he gets to climb first and plant his personal flag; it’s like this is an incredible gift I’m offering him. His pupils are dilated, swallowing up his irises until his eyes look almost pure black, but his hands are gentle where they stroke my waist. Reverent.
“Then we’ll go slowly,” he says, pure and simple.
“But nottooslow.” I step forward until our bodies brush, and my breath catches at that whisper of sensation. His heat. His strength. My legs quiver. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass either, your lordship. You’ll give me lady blue balls.”
A soft chuckle. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Then my boss reaches up, cups my cheek, and draws me down for a long, drugging kiss. He inhales deeply as he kissesme, breathing in my scent, and his thumb traces over my cheekbone.
Then West breaks away, and the smirk he gives me makes my heart stutter. He spins around, so agile despite his long limbs and bad leg, and lays back on the bench with his head right at the end of the wooden slats. A big hand pats his chest, where his shirt meets the V of his waistcoat.
“Come here, Maddy.”
Uh. What?
Confused as all hell, I turn around and start to sit, but West chuckles and swats me on the ass. “Not like that. Straddle my face, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good.”
Oh, right.
Duh.
