Slap.
“Stop wiggling.”
“You animal.”
“What the hell did you expect when you wear provocative underwear? It’s your fault I’m this hard.”
Laughter breaks from her lips as I stride toward the bed.
I toss her onto her back on the mattress.
All laughter subsides.
She stares up at me wide eyed.
I kneel at her feet, grab one foot into my hands, and place it on my leg.
I do quick work of the strap around her ankle and remove one heel.
Thump.
“I’d love nothing more than to fuck you in these, but as sexy as they are, they’re going to get in the way.”
Her eyes sparkle.
I remove her other shoe.
I massage her heel, then the ball of her foot. “You have beautiful feet.”
She wiggles her toes, painted in bright red.
I bring her foot to my lips and kiss it.
I shift my focus to her other foot, showering it with as much attention.
“Are you one of those guys who has a foot fetish?” She arches a brow. “If so, I should know.”
“If I said I did, are you going to tell me you can make me come by stroking my cock with your feet? If you’re proficient in that party trick, then yeah, I have a foot fetish.”
She tilts back on the mattress and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
I could get addicted to that sweet sound.
I stand up, shrug out of my jacket, and place it on the bed. The shirt is next. I fidget with the cufflinks and remove them.
She holds a hand out.
“Good girl.” I drop them in her open palm.
She gets on all fours and walks up the bed to drop them on the nightstand, giving me a hellava view. As she returns to the foot of the bed, I bend down to unlace my shoes.
“I’ll do it.” Her gaze lifts up to meet mine. “If you give me permission to touch you, that is.”
I adopt a military stance. “Permission granted.”
She slides to the carpeted floor and proceeds to undo my shoelaces.
I step out of my shoes.
