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began, devastated by her own guilt, not knowing
what in hell she could say to him now. Except the whole truth, for which she
hadn’t summoned enough courage. Yet.
    He stepped toward her, pushing his hands up through her
hair, pressing her to him like a second skin and branding her lips with fierce
kisses, once, twice, three times.
    “We’ll wait for the steaks,” he told her and bent to gather
her up into his arms and march with her beyond the living room into a shadowed
hallway toward the back of the house.
    She hung on to him, shaking at his demand and thrilled, but
not quite knowing this Chet who commanded her. At the end of the hall, he
kicked open the door and carried her to a king-size bed covered in a rust and
brown silk coverlet. He laid her down and rose above her, tangling his fingers
in her long hair as he plundered her mouth. His kisses, filled with languor and
nuance, caressed, brushed and crushed her lips. His tongue speared into her
mouth, and she groaned, needing more of this man who was so controlling and yet
so sweet.
    He hauled her up to a sitting position. “I need you naked,
baby.”
    She kicked off her shoes then reached for her tank top the
same time he did. The two of them pulled it up to throw it aside.
    “Christ.” He kissed the tops of her breasts as his hands
lifted under her bra and made them plump up out of the cups. “I love these.
Your big nipples. Pink satin,” he licked one tip with the edge of his tongue, “and
hard. They like to be nipped.” He bit each one in turn and made her buck. “And
tweaked.” He did each delicately and whispered against her ear, “I could play
with you all day.”
    She writhed in excitement. “We’re not getting any work done.”
    “But we are. We’re learning how to work well together.” He
cupped her mound with one big hand. “I’m finding what makes you hot and wet.
How fast. And Jesus, are you soaked.” He reached for her waistband.
    She stilled his hands with her own. Being bold with a man
was a new tactic for her, but with him, she had few qualms. And lots of needs. “Let
me do this.”
    He grinned, his generous mouth turned up in glee. “Be my
guest.”
    She kissed him fast then wriggled sideways to stand on
unsteady legs. Naked from the waist up, she raised her arms and arched upward
then turned to let him view her from the side.
    He narrowed his eyes, his breath heavy. “You’d better hurry,
darlin’ because my patience is always very thin.”
    Oh, she knew that for certain, didn’t she?
    “Mmm. I hear you,” she whispered and turned so that she
unbuttoned her skirt, unzipped it then faced him once more to let the things
shimmy down her hips. And with each inch the skirt dropped, so did his eyes.
Better than any plan, the damn fabric caught at the jut of one hip bone and
gaped open at the seam of her mons. She smelled her own fragrance, and her need
for him escalated to a fever pitch. Sex had been such a luscious event with
this man, and she wanted to ensure it was again, so she tilted her hips up
toward him and asked, “When I take this off, will you lick me again?”
    He growled. “All you want.” He waggled a finger at her. “Take
it down, baby. Now.”
    She couldn’t have rehearsed it better so that when she
shifted her hips once more, her skirt slowly slid to the floor in a sinuous
whoosh. Hands still above her head, she just stood there and let him look his
all.
    He rose, never taking his eyes from hers, and stalked her
around the bed like a mean male animal. Then, just when she would have thought
he’d embrace her, he sank to his knees and kissed her bush then blew small
puffs of air against her slick, wanting flesh. “I’m going to eat this pussy
like no one ever has.”
    “No one,” she told him, barely making a sound, “ever has.”
    He smiled against her lower belly. “Just me, then.” He ran
one finger along her seam so lightly she whimpered at his touch. “Only me.
Spread your legs, darlin’.”
    She