Nine Kinds of Naughty

by Jeanette Grey

  “I did.”

  Of course he did. Kate was in and out of the office often enough that he would have met her at some point.

  “She’s sweet.” Too sweet, honestly. “Rylan acts like she hung the moon. Brought his soul back to life.” She couldn’t keep the bile from her voice. “They met in Paris.”

  Dane made a quiet, interested hum. An invitation to keep going, maybe. Or maybe just a sign that he was humoring her.

  She charged along regardless. “They spent half their time in museums and galleries. And she did all these paintings of him.”

  Obscene ones. Honestly. Lexie’d never wanted to see her brother that way.

  And yet . . .

  “All my life, I’ve been surrounded by people in love with this stuff.” Her mother and Evan. Kate now, too, and she and Rylan were a package deal. “And I—” Her voice went rough. “Part of me always wondered if I was broken.”

  Because she didn’t see it. Numbers made sense. Her father in his office, with all those people surrounding him, treating him with respect . . . It had captivated her. She’d never wanted anything else.

  And at the same time, she’d been this girl in a house of boys, watching her mother dote on this smelly, self-infatuated, head-in-the-clouds kid . . .

  Sucking in a breath, she dug her nails into her palm.

  That kid had been her baby brother, and she loved him. She missed him.

  But she’d never, ever understood him.

  He had never understood her.

  Go do something you want to do, he’d told her. She had no idea what the hell that would be.

  “Am I—” she started to choke out, but the stone in her throat got too big. She couldn’t breathe around it. Floundering, she shot her gaze to meet Dane’s, and he was staring back at her.

  Not with expectation. Not with derision or judgment or any of the hundred things a part of her would always imagine she deserved.

  But with kindness. This rough-cut, deep-voiced mountain of a man was staring at her with all the tenderness in the world.

  “Lexie.” He stepped into her space then, and it was like she could breathe again. Taking her in his arms, he pulled her into him. “There is nothing—nothing broken about you.”

  Then why did she feel like she was barely keeping herself together? Like all her pieces would fly apart?

  Tightening his hold on her, he kissed her temple, an intensity to something so simple as the press of lips to skin. The heat of it seeped into her, melting her.

  Until she forced herself to pull away.

  She wasn’t her brother and she wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t Rylan or her father or Jordan. All those people whose expectations she’d never quite stacked up to—she’d survived their leaving.

  She’d never needed anyone to tell her she was all right. She didn’t need it now, either.

  She couldn’t let herself get used to it. For when, inevitably, he went away.

  chapter FOURTEEN

  Dane was trying not to push.

  He’d thought they’d been getting somewhere, but ever since that phone call she’d gotten at the museum, Lexie had been acting a whole different kind of weird. One second she was revealing all these insecurities she had about herself, letting him wrap her up in his arms. The next she was pulling away.

  A quiet lunch of bocadillos later, they arrived back at the hotel, and he didn’t know what to expect. In the elevator, he punched in the number for her floor. He was about ready to press the button for his, too, but she cleared her throat.

  “You don’t want to come up?”

  He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. “Wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome.”

  “You are. Just.” Uncertainty flickered across her gaze. She shook her head, cutting herself off.

  As the elevator doors slid closed, she crossed the tiny space to him, curling her hands in the fabric of his jacket and tugging, and wow. Okay.

  He probably should have seen it coming. Every time they’d fucked so far, she’d let him take the lead. She was a natural to getting on her knees, but there was that spark to her, too. That ferocity he admired so much in the boardroom. A girl like that would at least want to try it the other way.

  He couldn’t full-on submit to her. It wasn’t in his nature. But he could go along and see how this played out.

  Bending to better reach, he opened to her kiss. It was harsh and clumsy, but maybe she needed it like this. Whatever her brother had said to her, it had shaken her something fierce. If nothing else, he could understand that.

  Sex was good for a lot of things. Working through repressed emotions about some bullshit from your family? Yeah. He could relate.

  So when she scraped her teeth across his lip, he let her in, let her suck on his tongue and put her hand right on his half-hard cock through his jeans. He tipped his hips into her touch, and kept his hands to himself. Didn’t push her to her knees or tell her to suck him. Didn’t haul her in and press her back against the wall.

  The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open, and she stepped away.

  “Coming?” she asked, and it was coy enough. But it was also this tiny bit desperate.

  With a new hint of wariness, he followed her. “Sure hope I’m about to be.”

  She let them into her suite, then turned to face him, and he raised a brow.

  “How do you want me?”

  She licked her lips, gaze raking him up and down, like she was really considering it. “Bedroom.” More a suggestion than an order, but he was okay with that.

  She seemed to falter when he didn’t take the reins there, either, for all that his hands were twitching, his body screaming for him to. She recovered soon enough. Planting her palm in the center of his chest, she angled him toward the bed. He sat when she shoved, stared up at her, not bothering to hide the lust in his eyes when she reached for the hem of her shirt. She didn’t hesitate in hauling it off, and his mouth watered. He’d never dated a girl with such pretty underthings. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was dating one now or just fucking her. She ran her fingertip along the deep V in the center of her soft, green bra, then down, over her navel.

  “You just gonna watch?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Am I?”

  Her throat bobbed. “Take off your clothes.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice.

  And yet, on some level, she almost did. It was a part of the power dynamic, sure, but that wasn’t the only reason he hadn’t gotten naked with her until now. It was safer. Easier. Everywhere but here, she was his boss. Keeping a layer between himself and total vulnerability had just seemed smart.

  Well. Fuck it.

  He stripped off cleanly and efficiently, shedding his jacket and his shirt. His jeans and socks and shoes. By the time he was down to his boxers, she wore only two green scraps of satin, and his mouth watered, his cock well past hard by now.

  He rubbed the heel of his hand over himself, stifling a moan at that tiny bit of friction that had him aching for so much more.

  But then she was on him. In an awkward scramble of limbs, she pushed him down. She settled on all fours over top of him, breasts grazing his chest and hair falling in a curtain around them, and it would have been perfect. Only, she bit her lip.

  “So is this where I start ordering you around?” A false note of bravado colored the words, but he could see right through it.

  “Do you want to?”

  “Maybe?”

  Yeah, the way she answered with another question told him no.

  “Hmm.” Apparently, he was going to have to push this along. Fitting his palm to the dip of her waist, he stroked his thumb across the smooth, warm skin there. Possibilities assaulted him, each one making him more primed for it than the last. But . . . “You seemed pretty ready to jump me back in the elevator.”

  “I was.”

  “And now?”

  He was prepared for a lot of answers, had been intending to roll with just about any one.
/>   What he hadn’t been expecting was for her to groan. Sweep her hair off his face and dismount him entirely.

  His cock throbbing and confused, he blinked at the new patch of ceiling above him. When he sat up halfway, it was to find her on the other side of the bed from him.

  And the way she said “I don’t know what I want” just about chilled him to his bones.

  What the hell was wrong with her? Lexie tugged at her hair in frustration.

  She’d had a plan, goddammit all. Dane had been too nice, and she’d been left too hollow by everything Evan had said to her. She’d dragged Dane here intent on reminding herself of who she was. Head bitch in charge.

  Giving in to his demands, letting him spank her and fuck her and tell her what to do—it had all be fun enough. It had been this missing piece of her life slotting into place. But at the end of the day, she was her own woman, and she’d had every intention of proving it, here with this man in this bed.

  Only . . . now she’d had a taste of doing it the other way, she wasn’t even sure if she could.

  In the past she’d always taken the reins. Her first boyfriend in high school who hadn’t known a clit from a hole in the ground had left her no choice. Ever since, she’d told the men in her life what she wanted, and if they couldn’t deliver, she showed them, too. Honestly, it had been such a point of contention between her and Jordan. They’d never quite fit, in part because he could never seem to accept her wanting to be in control, while his own vague efforts at dominance had left her squirming inside.

  And now there was Dane, who’d taken that control before she’d even known it was up for grabs. He’d lifted her to heights she’d never imagined and opened up this quiet place inside her mind.

  Today, she’d decided to do things differently, and fine, she’d known that he was humoring her, but that wasn’t the point. He had given her control. Lay back and allowed her to take what she wanted.

  But it wasn’t working.

  The bed shifted as he sat up, propping himself on one elbow and reaching for her with the other hand. “Lex . . .”

  She wanted to tell him to go away, not to touch her, and at the same time, her body was aching for him. His hands would feel so good on her, his mouth and his skin. He could take her where she wanted to go.

  Only she couldn’t let him.

  Shaking her head, she retreated by another inch. The space gave her room to breathe, and it also made her trembly and uncertain.

  “I just—” She swallowed. What the hell was she trying to say?

  He gave her a second before prompting. “You wanted to take the lead tonight?”

  She nodded. Great job she was doing with that, huh?

  “Then do it. Push me down and pin my hands. Sit on my face if that gets you off.” The image that put into her brain had her skin sparking, her pussy clenching. “You don’t have to have a plan. All you have to have is confidence.”

  Usually, that wasn’t a problem for her, but she laughed, a sad sound at the back of her throat. “Does it look like I have a lot of that right now?”

  One corner of his mouth rose, his gaze fond. “Don’t forget I’ve seen you in a boardroom, Lex. You know what to do.”

  And maybe she did. Working her jaw, she released her fingers from her hair and faced him full-on. “You think?”

  “I know.”

  Something in her chest squeezed hard. Maybe that was all she’d needed to hear.

  This man—he liked to strip her down and put her on her knees. But he respected her beyond these walls.

  Even Jordan . . . He’d deferred to her at work most of the time, but there’d been this edge to it that had never sat quite right with her. Like he really wanted to pat her on the head instead.

  With Dane it was different, though. The expression in his eyes right now proved that.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she let his words seep into her. She could do this.

  When her vision refocused again, the scene before her had shifted. She lifted her chin and rose onto her knees, nodding at his boxers. “Take those off.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He skimmed them off, leaving him finally naked before her, and Jesus Christ, it was a feast. She ran her gaze along the bits of him that had always been obscured before—the juts of his hips and the smooth muscle of his thighs.

  The long, hard line of his cock.

  She swallowed down the wetness in her mouth. She’d had a chance to acquaint herself with that a few times now, but the huge, perfect shape of him, the dusky skin and the gleam of fluid at his tip, still had her salivating.

  “What do you want?” she asked, licking her lips.

  She watched, entranced, as he brought one of those big, rough hands to his hip, sliding it inward to take a lingering stroke along his length. “To fuck you, mostly.”

  “Mostly?”

  He twisted his wrist before sliding his fist back to the base, tugging at his balls for a second before dropping his hand away. “There are a couple other things I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Such as?”

  “Seeing you satisfied. You want to be on top tonight? Then that’s what I want, too.” He shifted onto all fours, stalking closer to her and making her skin feel too tight, her body aching and wanting. “Show me your claws, baby.”

  How could she resist?

  Just like that, she was on him, tumbling him down onto the mattress and climbing astride his hips. It was precisely where she’d been a handful of minutes before, but it was different now.

  “Yeah,” he said, breathing hard as she took his mouth. “Like that.” She licked past his lips and dug her hands into his shoulders. He slipped a finger beneath the strap of her bra. “Can I take this off?”

  “Yes.” She kissed her way to his throat, finally getting the chance to explore in a way he’d never allowed her to before. As she did, he stripped her bare, unclasping her bra and tugging it from her arms. Cupping her breasts. She groaned against his jaw, her nipples hard and aching.

  “You like that, huh?”

  “A lot.”

  He got the message, plucking at those sore, tight peaks before releasing them. She was just about to scold him, but then his thumb dipped beneath the waistband of her panties.

  “Yes, yes,” she mumbled, cutting him off before he could ask more explicitly for permission. He tugged and she lifted.

  And then they were both naked. Panting, she settled on hands and knees over top of him, looking down the lengths of their bodies. There was something about them that just seemed to fit.

  . . . And still something in her mind that told her they weren’t fitting together quite right.

  Ignoring it, she threw herself into it, attacking his mouth again, their teeth clashing, lips bruising. She lowered her hips to take a glancing stroke, sliding herself along his cock, coating him, grinding down with her clit until she saw sparks.

  “Fuck, Lex, that feels so good. You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

  Slick all down her thighs, her body empty and needy. It would feel so good to sink down over him and take him inside. Let that hot length fill her up the way she knew that only he could, and yet there was still that hint of doubt she couldn’t shake.

  Biting back a groan of frustration, she tore herself away. The lack of pressure against her pussy made her want to scream, but he’d given her some other ideas, hadn’t he? Scrambling up his body, she settled one knee and then the other to either side of his head. Shit, he looked amazing like that, sinful lips and steel blue eyes framed by her naked thighs.

  “You want this?” She hovered over him, cunt inches from his mouth.

  “Fuck, yes.” Hot hands on her ass yanked her down, and she reached out, flailing until she managed to brace herself with her arms against the mattress.

  And he didn’t waste any fucking time. Her vision blanked against the rasp of stubble against her inner thighs, the wet heat of his mouth. Parting his lips around her clit, he sucked and then licked, slicking his t
ongue all up and down her lips. He darted inside, and she closed her eyes, nearly losing her grip all over again, at his mercy . . .

  Shit, he was still driving. She was sitting on his face, and yet he was the one holding her there, the one taking her apart with his mouth.

  But did she care? Jesus Christ, this man knew what he was doing. He’d never left her any doubt about that, but she rose so quickly toward climax that it made her head spin.

  “Fingers,” she mumbled, and they were there. It had to be two, pressing in and crooking just right while his lips pursed around her clit, tongue flicking faster and faster, and she bore down. With all her will, she focused and chased the feeling . . .

  Only for it to elude her. Again and again, she rose, but it wouldn’t come, until she was ready to cry for the frustration of it. The fifth time, she ground herself against his mouth, trying to take it.

  But then his free hand gripped her thigh, squeezing. She closed her eyes as the bottom fell out all over again, her body refusing to go where she was leading it.

  “Fuck.” With an angry sigh, she flung herself off, landing on her back beside him, her arm draped over her eyes.

  For a minute, all she could do was struggle to breathe. He was making the same rasping noises beside her. She shifted her arm and craned her neck to look over at him.

  The tendons in his neck stood out like oak trees, his muscles coiled and chest heaving. One fist was clenched over his heart, the other spread out beside his head. She let her gaze drift lower to the angry line of his cock, throbbingly hard, gone dark and dripping with need.

  She looked at his face again. The frustration there was worse than her own, the restraint tightening every line around his mouth and eyes.

  He’d been holding himself back. To varying degrees and with varying levels of success, but he had. He’d tried to let her take the reins, and it was awful. It wasn’t them. Not here, in this room. Not when they came together like this.

  “Screw it.”

  At her voice, he turned his head, the full power of his gaze settling on her like a weight. “Uh-uh. You’re not quitting on me.”

  The determination in his voice slammed into her, and she swallowed hard, squeezing her thighs together against the ache there.