Page 65 of Sexy

I’m suddenly flushed with embarrassment. I just know my face is turning red. But I want to do this. I want to learn how to make a man crazy with lust. I want to make Fletcher feel that insane, overpowering want he made me feel last week on the roof. The kind of want that drives men mad. The kind of lust that makes a man throw away all caution, and inhibitions, and rational thought. The kind of desire that has him screaming in his head, Fuck the consequences. I want him to crave me so bad, he can’t say no. I want that power, and I want it bad. “Where do I start?”

“Tease me,” Fletcher says. “With your dress. Lift it up, give me a peek, and then drop it again.”

I blink a few times. But the power is within my reach. I can feel it. I might not be a sex witch, but Fletcher Novak is about to be under my spell. So I grab the thin fabric and start rubbing it up and down my thighs. He lets out a breath, watching my fingertips as they do a dance with the dress.

He scoots forward in his chair and wraps the warm palms of his hands behind my knees.

I am immediately wet. I can feel it pooling in my lacy underwear.

He rubs small circles against the sensitive skin on the back of my legs and it feels so good, I lift the dress up and show him my panties.

“Fuck,” he mutters again.

I let the dress fall, and then lift it again. My body starts moving now, the way he does when he’s performing. I close my eyes and enjoy the beat of the music in the background.

“Take it off, Tiffy. And make it sexy.”

“How?” I say, opening my eyes so I can stare at the desire in his face.

“Slow,” he says, gripping me harder and pulling me towards him.

I bite my lip and think about all the ways I can make this more seductive. I turn, making his hands drag across my thighs until my back is to him. He starts rubbing my upper thighs, inching higher and higher as I continue to sway.

I reach behind me and grab the zipper of my dress and drag it down a few inches. “Pull it down for me, Fletcher.”

His hands take advantage of every opportunity on their way up my back. He caresses my hips, presses the pads of his thumbs into the muscles on each side of my spine, and then reaches around as they travel upward, brushing against my nipples, turning them into tiny peaks.

I moan when he withdraws them, grabbing the back of my dress and the zipper with each hand. I lift up my hair with both hands to give him access and find myself throbbing with anticipation.

The zipper lowers with a small ripping sound, and then his hot mouth is on the bare skin in the middle of my back. One hand finds its way under my dress again, and he presses his fingers against my clit.

“You’re wet,” he says.

“I can’t help it,” I whisper.

“Don’t try.”

I slip one strap of my dress over my shoulder and look back at him. His hands are eager now, one tugging my panties aside and his fingers finding their way into my wet folds.

“Watch me,” I say, looking down at him. “I want you to watch me.”

“Fuck.”

I take that as a good sign, and slip the other strap down my shoulder. He gives the dress a little tug, and it falls away from my breasts, landing at my hips.

I turn back around to get a better look at his face. His eyes immediately find my cream-colored lace bra. He cups both breasts in his hands, squeezing hard.

I moan from that. God, I want him. I probably want him more than he wants me right now. I want all that hard stuff he did up on the roof.

Patience, that little voice in my head says. Give him a show. This is all about anticipation. So my fingertips find the bunched-up fabric stuck on the curve of my hips, and I shimmy a little. Until it works its way over the hourglass shape and then falls to the floor with a soft whoosh.

I swallow then. Hard. I’m not naked yet. But I am standing here in his room, exposed and vulnerable. His gaze takes me in. Every inch of me. And then his hands are exploring. He cups my breasts again, and that hard squeeze comes with it. He pulls one bra cup down and exposes my nipple so he can take it in his mouth.

He sucks and bites. Not softly, but not enough to make it too painful to endure. Just enough. Just. Enough. To make me crave his cock inside me.

I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra and let it hang there, the way he did this afternoon on the rock.

But this time he waits for me to take it off. His hands slide down and rest on my hips, caressing the bones that protrude slightly underneath my panties.