I give him a knowing glare, my own lips turning up in the corner with a smirk.
“I am just holding you accountable to your word, Sir.”
Sloane rises slowly and steps up to me. I can see us out of the corner of my eye, reflected in the mirrors around us. See how he looks down at me. How I’m drawn to look up at him.
The air thickens as my heart races and my cock twitches. My cheeks heat again, embarrassment and arousal flooding me.
How does he do that?
“Good thing I have you. To hold me accountable," he says as he brushes past me, his face coming within inches of mine. It’s a quick movement, but a deliberate one all the same. It’s a challenge. An invitation. One I find myself considering more than I should.
I watch as he heads into the fitting room, my heart in my throat.
Desire thrums inside me. My cock jumps with interest.
And then I get an idea. It’s not a good idea, by any means, and I know that, but…
Part of me feels like if I don’t, I’ll regret it. I’ll regret never taking the chance to throw Sloane Pierce off guard. If he wants me to be demanding, I can be demanding.
I look around the fitting room, making sure no one is around. They could very well come by any second, so I won’t have a lot of time, but that’s precisely what I’m counting on.
I carefully slide through the curtain and close it, and Sloane jumps back; clearly not expecting me. He’s down to nothing but his underwear, and I take in the sight.
I’ve seen photos of Sloane in magazines, clothed and shirtless, but the sight of him inches away from me, those defined tan abs and broad shoulders, his perfectly shaped golden-kissed thighs speckled with dark hair… and his tight, form-fitting briefs that leave nothing to the imagination…
Fuck, he might be the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life.
Or maybe it’s his icy blue eyes widening with shock that makes my heart race because I have really thrown him off guard. Andsomething about that makes me feel more validated than a $2,000 jacket ever could.
“Oliver, what are—”
I step forward, backing him against the mirror in the fitting room. He doesn’t push me or try to stop me. Instead, his gaze drifts to my mouth, and his hand comes to rest on my hip. It’s warm, almost sweaty, but not quite.
I lean into his space, my lips hovering inches from his, and I don’t hesitate. I lean in and kiss him.
Sloane stiffens, but within seconds, he relaxes. He kisses me back, his hand on my hip pulling me against him. He opens his mouth for me, and the reaction makes my cock throb and my heart race. Because he opened his mouthfor me.
It’s a strange feeling, this rush of power. Knowing that he responds to me like this. I’ve never felt likethiswith anyone before. Ever. It’s like a switch inside me has flipped and there’s no going back.
His dick moves against mine, and I let out a soft groan as he pulls away slightly.
“Do you remember your safeword?” he asks, his voice dark and raspy. I nod.
“Uh-huh.”
He licks his lips. “Say it.”
“Jabberwocky,” I say, my voice low, husky.
“Good Boy," he says, settling his other hand on my hip. “Don’t be afraid to use it.”
“I won’t need it," I say, emboldened by this feeling. This rush running through me…
Sloane lets out a dark chuckle, his grip tightening on my hips.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that," he says darkly, and then it happens. He flips me and slams me against the mirror, my back hitting it with a thud. I gasp, the rush of adrenaline surgingthrough me as one hand finds my neck, and the other finds my pants.
My breath comes in rapidly as he leans his face against my neck on the opposite side, his breath warm on my skin.
