by BETH KERY
He’d wanted to wake up next to that fresh, unexpected, puzzling, mind-blowingly sexy woman. He’d craved uncovering more of her secrets.
Yes, he’d told her he wanted to keep things light and casual. True, he had no right to be irritated at her escape.
That didn’t alter the fact that he was.
“Excuse me as well,” he said presently. He ignored Alessandra’s tightened, clawlike grip on his thigh and her calling his name in a petulant query. He plunged into the crowd around the bar. Damn Alessandra.
Damn this whole asinine situation.
Okay, it was partly his fault. He’d completely forgotten about Alessandra’s text, inviting him to meet her for some no-strings-attached sex. They’d had dinner at Gold Coast a few times, and drinks a few more, so apparently, that qualified in her book as making it their place, even though he’d never designated it as that in his mind. He’d never responded to her text, and in truth, hadn’t even thought about her invitation until he’d seen her standing in that doorway twenty minutes ago, looking for all the world like she’d been expecting him.
In fact, he’d come home early from Rockford because he’d been distracted while there. He wasn’t the only one who’d seemed out of sorts at his parents’ house. His brother, Kevin, was in a pissy mood and refusing to talk about it with his usual confidantes: their mom and Trey himself. His sister, Kacy, and Kevin had a long-term rivalry. Kevin’s bad mood filtered over to Kacy, making her irritable as well. Add in the fact that Jason, Kacy’s son, was suffering from a bad cold and being unusually whiny and demanding, and Kacy was worth avoiding over Thanksgiving as well.
Trey himself was uncommonly on edge, put off by the abrupt ending of his tryst with Eleanor. The simple fact was he wanted to see more of her. Had Eleanor left without waking him because she’d lost interest now that she’d achieved her goal of sleeping with the man she’d been spying on?
He’d tried to recall if she’d ever said if she planned to stay at her parents’ for the entire weekend, or if she was coming back to the city after the holiday. No, she hadn’t mentioned it. He would have remembered if she had specified. Why hadn’t he asked, damn it?
Because I thought I’d still have time left with her to find out.
Evanston wasn’t far. If he left Rockford early, maybe he could nudge Ralph into convincing Eleanor’s doorman to get him her number? Maybe there was a chance of seeing her this weekend.
That’s precisely what he’d been in the process of doing when he’d glanced over his shoulder and saw Eleanor herself, dressed to kill and looking gorgeous, rushing into the lobby. It’d taken him a few seconds to come to the ugly realization she was meeting up with the tall, good-looking, dark-haired guy standing at the entrance of Gold Coast.
Trey was leaning against the wall, waiting in the dim hallway when Eleanor came out of the bathroom a minute later. She started when she saw him and came to an abrupt halt.
“How come you left without waking me up the other morning?” he demanded without preamble.
She appeared taken aback for a second before she rallied. Her chin went up.
“I didn’t think you’d want me to. You were sleeping. I was trying to be considerate. I was trying to keep it light.”
He pushed himself off the wall and stepped toward her, until they were only inches apart. She wavered in the sexy red heels she was wearing, like she wanted to back up, but she held her ground. She looked up at him, the mixture of trepidation and defiance on her face making him grit his teeth. Hard. He might have relived moments about their night together a lot more than he cared to admit, but memories didn’t match up to the reality of her eyes. She had to have the most amazing, expressive, sexy eyes he’d ever seen.
“I thought we decided we still had business together. I wanted you to wake me up,” he ground out.
Her expression flattened at his bluntness. Then she straightened her spine and took a tiny step closer, so that their faces were only inches apart.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t had time to learn your every preference. Maybe I could ask your girlfriend Alessandra to make a list for me, master,” she said, her low, vibrating voice oozing with sarcasm.
“She isn’t my girlfriend.”
She blinked. “She’s not?”
“She used to be. We split a couple months ago. She’s one of the ugly breakups I told you about that made me want to go cold turkey in regard to women.”
“But then . . . what’s she doing here? Why were you meeting her?”
“I wasn’t. I forgot that she’d texted me and said she wanted to meet tonight. It was just an accident that I was down in the lobby. I never told her I’d meet her here, she just assumed. The only thing I was doing out in the lobby when you showed up was trying to bribe Ralph into getting your doorman to give me your phone number.”
He studied the flicker of amazement on her upturned face. Did she believe him?
“Would it have mattered? If she was my girlfriend?” he prodded.
She pressed her mouth together in an obstinate line—that delicious mouth he’d been having the most illicit, vivid fantasies about.
“Would it have mattered if I was here on a date with Jimmy?” she countered.
He realized she’d sidestepped his question, but was too hypnotized by her upturned mouth and gleaming eyes to care. He lifted his hands and cupped her curving hips. Excitement flickered at the base of his spine. He pulled her against him, feeling her gasp fly across his nudging lips. He bent his knees and thrust his hips forward slightly, liking the pressure of her supple, soft body against his cock. Digging his fingertips into the firm swell of her ass cheeks, he shook his head, causing their touching lips to brush together.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have still wanted you. Nothing’s changed. Or maybe it has,” he acknowledged, biting her lower lip gently and dragging his teeth across the tender flesh. She quaked against him. “Instead of wanting you less after that night, I want you more. Even if you were just coming on to me to get a bigger donation for the museum.”
“I told you I was doing no such thing,” she seethed.
He grinned at the return of her outrage and pierced her lips with his tongue. One of his hands delved into her silky long hair. He twisted his fingers and tugged, tilting her head back farther for his kiss. She whimpered into his mouth, kissing him back. She grasped his waist, clutching him, her fingers digging into his back, stroking and rubbing him. Her anxious movements struck him as wild.
Desperate.
Satisfaction and sharp arousal swept through him at her returned display of lust. He bent over her, his kiss growing furious. What right did she have, making him want her this much, causing him to be so distracted and restless on what was supposed to be a relaxing family weekend?
She started against him and moaned, pulling back slightly. He put a hand on her jaw, keeping her in place while he took his fill. But then he felt her jerk back more firmly, and the sounds of approaching footsteps pierced his lust. He realized she’d heard someone approaching before he had.
He sealed the kiss, but didn’t release her from his hold. He just stared down at her as she cast a nervous glance around his upper arm. A door opened behind him.
“It was some woman,” she whispered. “Not Alessandra.”
He still fisted a bunch of thick, silky hair. He tugged gently and she looked up at him.
“It wouldn’t have mattered if it was Alessandra. I didn’t ask her here tonight. What I told you was the absolute truth.”
“Well I’m telling the absolute truth when I say I didn’t do what I did for a bigger donation!”
“I wasn’t serious about that.” It was true, for the most part. She clearly was being evasive about her job, for some reason. But he honestly didn’t think the reason was because she was going to hit him for a donation at some point.
Her
lips trembled, fracturing his curiosity and puzzlement. He wanted to punish that gorgeous mouth of hers again for the crime of tempting him so outrageously.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said quietly, coming to a decision. “We’re going to go back out there. You’re going to say you don’t feel well and that you’re going home. You’ll go back to your condo. Then I’m going to make an excuse to Alessandra and go up to my place.”
“But they’ll know we’re lying,” she said, eyes flashing.
“I don’t care if they do. Do you?” he challenged. She closed her mouth slowly. She shook her head.
“Jimmy seems like a good friend, he’ll understand. Is he straight?” he asked distractedly.
“What?”
“Jimmy, is he straight?”
“Yes,” she replied, looking confused.
“Maybe you should warn him about Alessandra before you leave. She’s going to be a royal bitch when I make an excuse and go. Then to bandage her pride, there’s a fifty-fifty chance she might come on to Jimmy.”
“Jimmy can take care of himself.” She frowned. “Unless you’re trying to tell me she has some horrible communicable disease or something.”
“No, it’s not that. She’s just a handful, that’s all. It doesn’t matter. They’re both adults. What matters is that in ten minutes flat, at”—he checked his watch—“five forty-five, you’re up in that window.”
“Huh?”
He nodded his head once, admiring the rush of color in her cheeks and her flabbergasted expression. “Do what you did that first night again.”
“You . . . you want me to . . . to dance for you again?”
“Hell, yeah,” he muttered, releasing her hair and rubbing her hip and ass. He plucked at her mouth. “Put on a nice show for me, Eleanor.”
“Really?”
He pushed her into him and ground his cock against her lower belly. “Do I seem serious?”
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Then you go out first and make your excuse. Don’t wait for me. Just go.”
“Okay.” He released her and she started to move past him, seeming a little unsteady on her two feet.
“And, Eleanor?”
She looked over her shoulder.
“Two things,” he said tensely. “One, sign a consent form for your doorman, allowing me to come up to your place. Leave your unit number and let him know I’ll be there soon. Don’t lock your front door. Tonight, this isn’t going to end with me standing there like an idiot with my cock in my hand, do you understand? I’m going to punish you for teasing me.”
Her eyes widened. She looked adorable, but he didn’t relent an inch.
“And two”—he pointed down at her feet—“the only things I want you wearing when I get there are those shoes.”
TEN
Eleanor’s heart fluttered erratically in her chest and she was panting by the time she entered her condo and shut the door, remembering not to lock it. She bubbled with nervous excitement. She still couldn’t believe Trey was here, or that he was matter-of-factly insisting they put their plan into play for mixing their kinks right that moment. Despite the unexpected turn of events, she knew precisely what she was going to do for her performance for Trey.
Earlier that year, the museum sponsored a special exhibit on the 1933 Chicago World’s Fair. Eleanor had organized a subunit on glamorous actress and dancer Sally Rand, who had scandalized Chicago with her provocative fan dance at the fair. Sally would dance with two large feather or fur fans, seducing the audience by twirling and gliding them across her seemingly naked body. Eleanor had been responsible for displaying two pairs of Sally’s own beautiful fans along with other artifacts, photos and ephemera, but her exhibit had required some extra decoration. So she’d found a place where she could purchase more fans, and on a whim, had bought two for herself. She’d been seduced by how soft the feathers were, and perhaps by the idea of Sally Rand herself. She admired the woman’s boldness. Even before she’d discovered her penchant for exhibitionism, Eleanor had recognized the potent power Ms. Rand held over the audience as she teased them relentlessly with her peekaboo dance. Of course it’d all been an illusion. Sally hadn’t really been naked behind the fans.
But Eleanor would be.
Trey would hate it. He’d love it too.
The very idea of having his total attention, of working him into a frenzy again sent her blood to racing. He’d said he’d punish her for teasing him. That made her a little anxious, but not enough to dampen her excitement.
Even though he’d said he wanted her in the window in ten minutes, and she only had five remaining, she still got under a hot shower. Tonight, she’d seduce him from a distance, but he’d be up close, eventually. She wanted to be perfect. After her shower, she took her time applying a bergamot and peach body lotion that contained a subtle glitter that sheened her naked body. She put on a robe and went out to the living room to select some music.
She smiled as the first notes of the sexy, bluesy number—“Going Down Slow”—began to play. As always, the right music was like a shot of potent whiskey. It got her in the mood. It made her bolder than she really was. She put the red heels back on, buckling the straps around her ankles, her heart drumming in her ears when she recalled how on fire and intimidating Trey had looked when he’d given her the instructions to be wearing them, and nothing else, when he arrived.
She glanced at the clock, her eyes going wide when she saw it was going on five fifty. She was late for her performance. But that’d only amp up Trey’s anticipation, wouldn’t it?
It’ll only increase your punishment, a dark voice in her head said.
She tingled with excitement at the thought. She took her time, fluffing out her loose hair and applying blush, eyeliner and lipstick. A minute later, she located the fans in a cupboard in the exercise room. They were made of white feathers and shaped like palm leaves, about two and a half by two and a half feet in size. Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, she dropped her robe. Holding the handles, she slid the fans along her body, loving the sensual feel on her naked skin, admiring the way the white feathers looked against her body. She’d never tried a fan dance herself, but she’d studied videos of Sally Rand doing it dozens of times. The trick was to manipulate the fans as she moved, sliding one off a breast or her butt or her sex just as the other fan glided into place.
The whole dance was one gigantic tease.
I can do this.
But can you face the consequences?
Eleanor only knew for certain she was about to find out.
One fan flirtatiously covering her front side while the other shielded her ass, she walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom.
—
Where the hell was she?
Trey stood next to the floor-to-ceiling window, annoyance and anticipation building in him. The room across the way remained dark. He glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes until six.
Just keep pushing it, Eleanor, he thought grimly. His body flickered with arousal. He couldn’t believe he allowed her to push his buttons this way.
But she did it so freaking well.
A light blinked on in the room. He tensed, all of his attention zeroing in on the distant figure. She moved gracefully around the foot of the bed toward the window. He stepped closer to the window, completely forgetting his self-command to hold back and to watch her performance with some element of restraint.
She was naked, the pale gold, luminous skin of her shoulders and legs gleaming in the lamplight. But she was holding something white against her breasts, belly and crotch . . . some kind of fan. Just as he recognized the object, she began to dance, moving her hips seductively.
Holy shit. It was made of feathers. He could tell by the movement the fan made as she danced and it slid against her skin. Plus . . . the feathers weren’t
opaque. As she stepped toward the window, her hips gyrating, he realized he could see the outline of her beautiful body shifting beguilingly to some unheard music. He watched, spellbound.
She spun several times, nearing the window, revealing the sides of her body and willowy bare back, making it clear she was completely naked. His cock swelled. He frowned in mixed arousal and disappointment. She held another fan over her ass.
Little tease.
He watched her dance for a moment with her back to him. Keeping the fan in place over her ass, she lowered the other fan and caressed the back of her legs with it, all the while moving to the music. Her long mane of hair swished sexily against her lithe back as she stroked her naked thighs with the fan.
Then she turned and looked coyly over her shoulder. That stare went straight to the core of him.
“Eleanor,” he growled softly in warning. He swore he saw her smile. He didn’t have time to decide for sure, because suddenly she straightened her long legs and bent at the waist, ass in the air. He placed his hand on the glass of the window, every ounce of his attention straining toward her. She moved both fans at once, her skill at the task surprising him. Just as she slid one down a buttock and caressed her thigh with it, she moved the other up, gliding it over her ass, obstructing his view.
He ground his teeth together, held hostage by her. He couldn’t move or breathe. All he could do was salivate and ache, and pray he’d catch even the slightest glimpse of what she so cleverly hid from him.
Then she started to sway her ass as she continued her peekaboo show. As she shifted her hips to the music, he glimpsed a bare suspended breast. He’d seen plenty of breasts in his day, but just that obscured vision from a distance electrified him. He grabbed his cock through his jeans and groaned. She bent her knees and ground her hips in a circular motion, all the while sliding the feathers against her naked skin, provoking him without mercy.
That was it. He was going over to her place right now. He was going to spank that beautiful ass and take her as mercilessly as she teased him.
