“But first, I want to show you somethin’. No questions.”
He nodded, still too shocked to speak. But he wasn’t too stunned to kiss Donovan back when his mouth descended. It was chaste and sweet, and it only amped up his adrenaline and made his heart pump erratically.
Donovan was chuckling when he pulled back. “Get in.”
Tate got in.
Eighteen
“Mr. McCord?” Reilly called out as shewalked down the stairs to join Brady on the couch.
After lunch, they’d gone upstairs to his bedroom and taken a nap. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she lay down. She’d gone up there hoping to rekindle what they’d started in the shower. But that turned into a four-hour nap, which wouldn’t bode well for her sleeping tonight, but it was Christmas Eve, so she figured that was okay.
When she woke up, she was alone, but she found Brady in his office, sitting at his drafting table. Working. Apparently, that was what he did in his spare time. After that, he’d given her a full tour of the house, showing off the impressive back patio with a stone fireplace and outdoor furniture that was nicer than the stuff she had in her house.
The tour had ended in an afternoon walk, which, to her dismay, had required her to put on clothes. They’d returned a few minutes ago, so she’d excused herself to go upstairs to change back into his robe. She was becoming quite fond of it, actually.
She took the steps down slowly, trying to scrounge up the nerve to follow through with her seduction plan. It was so much easier to think about doing it than to actuallydo it.
“I have to tell you somethin’,” she told Brady now, licking her lips and swallowing the lump of nerves that made her voice husky.
“You can tell me anything.” His gaze shifted from the television to her as she strolled toward him.
Her pussy clenched with anticipation, but she forged ahead.
“I’ve been a bad girl,” she told him.
She could tell he was attempting to hide a smile, his expression remaining somewhat impassive despite the slight curl of his lip and the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “Have you now?”
She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. “Very bad.”
His throat worked on a swallow, and his eyes narrowed as he watched her. “What did you do that’s so bad?”
“I stole your car.”
“I recall that,” he said, sitting up as she approached.
Reilly stopped directly in front of him. “I think I need to be punished.”
He leaned forward, sliding his hand under the robe and cupping the back of her leg, urging her closer. His touch alone set her on fire.
His dark eyes lifted to her face. “What do you think your punishment should be?”
Spank me, Mr. McCord. Spank me, please.
Again, it was easier to think about than to say, so she went with, “Whatever you think is fair.”
“Why do you think I should be fair, sweet baby?”
Reilly swallowed as her clit pulsed from the heat she saw in his eyes. She liked the direction he was going. It seemed to be running right alongside where her dirty thoughts were headed.
She shrugged, feeling her cheeks warm.
“Well, I think we’ll start by removin’ this,” Brady said, tugging at the tie on her robe.
She stepped closer when he loosened it, allowing him to open it. Cool air wafted over her overheated skin, although it was warm in the house.
“Take it off,” he instructed. “All the way.”
