“There’s a club? Damn. I missed that memo.”
“If you’re serious about this whole gentleman-who’s-good-at-foreplay routine, I’m going to need more than talk…or at least promise not to dim the lights and ask if I feel seen.”
The silence stretched, thick and charged.
He stepped into her space. Her eyes flicked up, wary, like she thought he might kiss her forehead and retreat.
“I’m not that kind of gentleman. I won’t light a candle. I won’t cue up jazz. And I definitely won’t ask if you feel seen before I kiss your inner thigh.”
Her breath hitched.
“I won’t ask,” he murmured, “because your body will tell me everything I need toknow.”
She tilted her head, a wicked little smile curling the corner of her mouth. “I’ve heard this kind of bravado before. Results were…underwhelming.”
He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I promise to be better. Unless you’re afraid to test the waters.”
She matched his lean, her words spilling warm against his skin. “I adore tests. The harder, the better.”
His pulse jumped. The tone was pure challenge, sweetened with heat.
“This test comes with a warning.”
“I’m listening.”
“Studies show I will ruin you for every future man who tries to warm you up. Gentleman or otherwise.”
“I love a cocky bastard,” she murmured. “Especially one who can back it up with studies.”
He closed the space between them, moving with the kind of patience that damn near strangled his self-control. “By the time I’m done with foreplay, you’ll be calling me Daddy…and begging me to spank you.”
Her pupils widened, dark and bottomless, her jaw set like she was holding herself together by sheer will. “Better make good on it.” The grit in her voice scraped over his control like sandpaper.
“Oh, I will.” He slid his hands to her waist, yanking her flush against him.
Regret could wait its turn. Tonight belonged to rawness, risk, and every reckless choice he’d traded away for anonymity.
Chapter 14
Frankie hadn’t expected the growl, the hands, or that the second he hauled her against him, her entire nervous system would go full DEFCON horny.
“Feeling your body against mine?” he rasped, his voice dark enough to make her knees consider early retirement. “I’m beginning to understand why no man’s ever made foreplay memorable. You’re too fucking fuckable. On behalf of all mankind, please forgive our lack of control.”
“Wow. Tossing in an early disclaimer. Should I be worried?”
“You tell me.” His mouth claimed hers in a move that shouted he was in charge, while his free hand slid into her hair with a care that felt at odds with all the alpha energy.
It took her a second to realize why. He remembered the wig.
She’d forgotten about the damn thing. Hell, she’d never worn one during sex because while Francesca B wore them daily, Frankie Petersonwore them rarely. But Marcus? In the middle of this, he remembered and adjusted his grip, like she mattered.
Or maybe he was just smart enough to know the moment wouldn’t survive another mudpuddle debacle.
Either way, it landed. Enough to make her heart stutter.
With one hand still tangled in her hair, the other moved between them, loosening his tie and shoving his jacket off his shoulders in a single, impatient motion.
She helped him get rid of his jacket without hesitation, because hesitation didn’t live here anymore. Her body was already humming, her breath gone, her brain unraveling by the second.
