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below the fabric of her dress.
    Maggie moaned as he slid the dress over her hips and let it drop to the floor.
    “Step out of it, but keep your hands on the wall.”
    She did as instructed. Glancing down, she watched his booted foot kick it away. His hands were on her hips now, though he continued to hold his body away from hers.
    “Hands up, Maggie. Pay attention.”
    Where are my hands? Oh… She slid them back up the wall. “Sorry,” she whispered, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning.
    She heard him drop to his knees behind her, both of his hands on her ass, squeezing her rounded flesh, separating the two mounds. A finger returned to the cleft in between, followed by a warm, wet tongue. Maggie couldn’t help it. With a groan, she pressed her rear end against his mouth. With a quick motion, Mace smacked her hip. Giving a little jerk, Maggie squeaked.
    “Did I say you could move? Stand still or I’ll smack you again.”
    The pace of Maggie’s breathing increased until it seemed as if she was gasping. Nobody had done this sort of thing to her, ever.
    “Stay,” Mace said, rising to his feet. He walked away from her. Nervous now, she heard the sound of his booted feet on the linoleum floor in the small kitchen. The refrigerator door opened and closed. What is he getting? Ice? What? Her heart began to pound.
    The feel of the man drawing near to her, the heat his body gave off, was every bit as tangible as the sound of his footsteps. Maggie waited in agony. Behind her once more, Mace knelt down. Although the sound was muffled by the carpet, she heard him set something on the floor. Dear god, I hope it’s not a cucumber . He rose to his feet and his mouth settled on the back of her neck, beneath her short hair. “Don’t worry.” His lips grazed her skin; his voice was a caress. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. Maggie, turn your head, give me your mouth. I want to kiss you.”
    “N…no,” she stuttered.
    “You said I could have whatever I want, and what I want is to kiss you.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?” His mouth continued to move along her neck. He nibbled on her earlobe.
    “Because…because I’m afraid.”
    A finger slid beneath her chin, and Mace turned her head toward his face. “You have nothing to fear from me, not tonight, not ever. Kiss me, Maggie. Kiss me with that luscious mouth of yours before we go any further, so I know you trust me to take care of you.”
    Maggie whimpered, but she didn’t resist as Mace turned her head and slanted his mouth over hers. His lips were hot and soft, his tongue hard and demanding, and he forced his way into her mouth, plundering without mercy. Maggie had never been kissed like this, not by a man who seemed to be starving, ravenous, for her.
    Desperate to wrap her arms around him, forgetting his instructions, she lowered her hands to reach for him. His lips still locked on hers, Mace grabbed for her hands before she could touch him. He threaded his fingers through hers and held them away from his body. “Not yet,” he muttered against her mouth. Mace lifted his head. “You’ll touch me, Maggie, when I give you permission.” Their eyes met. Tugging on her hands, he turned her to face him and he smiled. “Nice.”
    Maggie thrust her breasts forward, praying that he’d see her need, that he’d touch her, suck her, do something, anything to give her relief, but all Mace did was look. He looked her up and down. Pupils dilating, his eyes lingered for a few moments on her puckered nipples. As she watched, they drifted lower, down to her waist. They followed the curve of her hips and finally settled between her legs.
    “I like the wax job,” he teased. Then his voice deepened. “Spread your legs. Spread your legs, Maggie, and let me see more.”
    She did.

    * * * *

    Fuck me. That wax job points like a sign saying ‘eat here,’ but damn, I won’t be crude enough to say that. I’ll get around to doing it.
    A narrow line of neatly trimmed pubic hair led