by Rebecca York
Should she put it on? And sit here feeling half naked? No, she’d wait until he told her he was ready.
She could hear him in the bedroom, moving things around. What was he doing in there?
Well, she supposed she’d find out soon.
She’d led a pretty tame life, and this was the craziest thing she’d ever agreed to do. And also the most exciting. She could already feel moisture gathering between her legs. Why?
Well, because Zach had asked her to do it.
She was too keyed up to sit still just waiting for what was to happen. Then an idea struck her. Instead of sitting here with her nerves jumping, she could definitely find something to occupy her time.
Quickly she hurried down the hall, glanced furtively at the closed bedroom door, then slipped into the bathroom, where she opened her makeup kit. Inside was a bottle of red nail polish, which she’d thought she might use while she was down here. She hadn’t bothered with the stuff—until now.
Grinning, she brought the bottle back to the couch.
After using rolls of tissue to hold her toes apart, she began to polish her toenails.
When she finished, she admired the effect. She was thinking of touching up the little toe on her left foot when she heard the bedroom door open. Then footsteps came slowly down the hall, making a zing of electricity go through her. Quickly, she lowered her legs, hiding her feet under the coffee table.
Zach walked back into the room, picked up the remote control from the coffee table, and clicked off the set.
When he turned to her, the intensity of his eyes was like a searchlight. She might have ducked away; instead, she raised her head questioningly toward him—struggling to keep herself steady without taking her lower lip between her teeth.
“It’s time to put on that robe,” he said, and she knew from the little break in his voice that he wasn’t as calm and collected as he looked.
She stood, stiffening her legs when she felt herself start to sway. Reaching down, she gathered up the garment.
“I’ll put it on. But you have to do something for me, too.”
“What?”
“Take off your shirt. If we’re going to do this, I need to see your naked chest.”
“I can do better than that,” he growled.
“How?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”
She looked away from the gleam in his eyes, once again questioning her sanity. Her mouth was dry as she snatched up the robe and headed for the bathroom.
###
Zach stood with his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched Amanda disappear into the bathroom. She was really going to do it. At least he hoped to hell she wasn’t going to chicken out now.
The sound of the lock clicking released him. Shaking his head to clear away the fog, he headed for his own room.
He never wore pajamas. But he’d spent some time considering how he should be dressed for this evening’s activities. Seeing a display of very sexy looking men’s nightwear had helped him make up his mind.
He’d picked out a burgundy pair of pajamas with a subtle pattern of navy stripes.
Closing the door to his room, he began to pull off his clothing. First his shoes. Then his shirt. Finally his slacks and shorts. The last part was a little difficult to manage because he was so turned on that his huge swollen erection was definitely in the way.
But he’d never heard of a guy who couldn’t have sex because he was trapped in his clothing. He pulled on the pajama bottoms. The pants had no button or zippered fly. Only a folded-over slit in the front, and he had to maneuver himself to keep from poking through the fabric.
He stopped and leaned his head and shoulders against the door, feeling the blood pounding in his veins. Particularly in the lower part of his body.
He thought about what she’d see when they met again. His arms were good—nicely muscled. And his shoulders were broad. Did Amanda like a guy with hair on his chest? Some women didn’t. He hoped she didn’t mind a nice dark thicket.
Well, it was too late to think about that now. He wasn’t going to shave it.
When he heard the lock on the bathroom door click again, he closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped into the hall.
The light was dim, but the sight of Amanda in that robe took his breath away. She’d brushed out her hair into a golden halo around her head. She’d put on a little makeup. Not much, just a little eye shadow and blusher that subtly brought out the natural beauty of her features.
He looked down the length of her body, pausing to admire the tight points of her nipples and the golden triangle of hair he could just make out at the top of her legs.
Her feet were bare, and he felt something inside his chest turn over when he saw the red polish on her nails. She hadn’t been wearing the polish yesterday, because he would have noticed, which meant she’d done that for him. For his pleasure, and he had to press his hands against his thighs to keep from reaching for her.
When he glanced up, he saw she was looking at him with frank appreciation. Maybe chest hair turned her on.
But it wasn’t his upper body that she mentioned.
“Nice pajamas,” she said, and he knew she could clearly see the erection poking out the fabric.
“I’m glad you like them,” he managed to say. Then, “Come see if you like the bedroom.”
He stepped aside to let her pass, then caught his breath as one of her silk-clad arms brushed against his.
Again, he had to clamp down on the impulse to drag her body against his. He wanted to feel the length of her pressed to his heated flesh. But he knew that was the wrong thing to do. He had spent a lot of time setting up his fantasy, and they both needed to see it through. At least, he did. He hoped she could stay with him.
She stepped forward, into the bedroom.
He couldn’t see her face, and when he heard her make a small sound, he found he was fighting to breathe around the lump that suddenly clogged his throat as he waited for her reaction to his evening’s work.
Chapter Ten
Amanda hadn’t been sure what she was going to find. Now she took several steps into the room and stopped short, feeling dazed as she looked around. The last time she’d been in the bedroom, it had been full of typical beach-house decor. Now it was totally transformed—into a romantic and mysterious environment.
Wanting to see more, she glided forward, curious about how Zach had worked the transformation.
Apparently, he’d carefully considered each detail. The bed was now low to the floor, a soft platform covered by a beautiful gold and beige comforter.
He’d moved the dresser to the end of the bed, closing in the space. Then he’d piled two inviting mounds of pillows on the bed. One was at the headboard. The other was at the foot, with the back of the dresser serving as another backrest.
The effect was to create a sumptuous, private cave for two people. And the effect was enhanced by gauzy bed draperies made of mosquito netting that he’d cleverly hung from the ceiling fan.
They came down in a swirl of translucent fabric, on either side of the headboard, enclosing it like an old-fashioned bed canopy—but more open and airy.
A scarf-covered lamp in one corner provided romantic illumination—as did the candles he’d set on the dresser and on top of the armoire.
No man had ever gone to this kind of trouble to set a romantic scene for her, and she was awed and a little intimidated—if she were truthful.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, without turning to look at him. When she heard the breath ease out of him, she knew he’d been waiting for her approval.
“It’s for you—for us.”
“Are you sure you don’t watch those DYI shows?” she asked, because her nerves were begging her to keep the conversation going.
“I’ve seen a little. But mostly this is from my imagination. For how I wanted to see you.”
He didn’t touch her, but she was very aware of him standing behind her, makin
g her skin tingle.
“Where did you get all the pillows?”
“Some are extras I found in the closets. I bought some.” He laughed, “And I stuffed some pillowcases with extra bedding. But let’s not spoil the illusion by going into details.”
“Okay.” She heard him move then, and her stomach muscles clenched. He stepped up behind her, curving his hands around her shoulders, his fingers pressing into her skin, suffusing heat through her body like a sudden firestorm.
“I know why you’re asking a ton of questions. Don’t be nervous.”
“I’m not . . . nervous,” she lied.
He bent to stroke his lips against her cheek. “Good, because if you keep me waiting much longer, you’re going to be responsible for my having a heart attack,” he growled.
She gave a half glance over her shoulder and saw the rigid lines of his face. He knew she could still back out, but she wasn’t going to disappoint either one of them. Licking suddenly dry lips, she knelt, keeping her knees pressed together as she eased herself onto the mattress.
He let out another pent-up breath. “Sit up at the headboard end. Make yourself comfortable with the pillows.”
Feeling strangely light-headed, she did what he asked. Yet she still had trouble imagining herself going through with what he had described. In the back of her mind, she was thinking that she could change the rules as they went along. In fact, she knew she had to change the rules if this was going to work for her.
But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Not yet.
To keep from letting him see her doubts, she turned and fussed with the pillows, making herself a comfortable place to relax, although she knew that relaxation was impossible.
As she settled into the plush backrest, she felt charged with a growing arousal. Did it show on her face? On her body? She kept herself from looking down at the tight, hard points of her nipples that must be visible through the silky robe.
Zachary Grant could arouse her without even touching her. But then she already knew that.
Trying to distract herself, she glanced at the white netting on either side of her. It made a gauzy tent around her head and shoulders, helping her feel enfolded in a private world.
Well, not exactly private, she thought with a sudden zing of awareness as she felt the mattress shift. When she looked up, she saw that Zach had walked around the other side of the bed and joined her on the mattress, settling into the other mound of pillows—the ones that he’d arranged against the back of the dresser.
She could see then that he’d made the bed surface longer by padding the end of the mattress—maybe with cushions from the deck furniture—to extend the area a few feet. But still, when she’d imagined this scene, she hadn’t expected him to be that close to her.
She’d been picturing him sitting on the other side of the room. Now he was right here in bed with her, and she could easily reach out and grab one of his bare feet.
Which was what he did. Sliding his hand several inches across the comforter, he took her right foot in his hand, stroking his thumb along the instep, sending little prickles of electricity up her leg.
“I like that nail polish,” he said. “It looks sexy. Did you do that for me?”
“Yes—and to distract myself while I was waiting for you to finish in here.”
She closed her eyes and pressed her palms against the comforter, focusing on the touch of his hand as he continued to stroke her foot.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think so.”
“You are so beautiful. I love the way that robe looks on you, and I love the contrast with the pillows and the comforter.”
“Why do you want to do this?” she asked. “I mean this whole thing.”
“It’s very stimulating,” he answered immediately. “Don’t you agree?”
“You know it is. But there’s no reason you have to stay at the other end of the bed. You could come up here and lie down with me.
“I could. But then I wouldn’t get to play out my fantasy.”
“Maybe I can’t play it out.”
“Oh, I think you can.” His gaze dropped to the front of her robe, where the tight beads of her nipples pointed toward him. “I know you’re already aroused—just by what we’ve done. And we’ve barely gotten started.”
She couldn’t deny it.
“Do you think this is wicked?”
Her throat was suddenly dry, but she managed to answer, “No.”
“Good. Let’s see how far we can take this.”
His words made her pulse suddenly pound. What was he going to want from her?
All he said was, “Why don’t you open the top two buttons of that robe. Just so I can see the creamy skin below your neck.”
She could do that, she thought, as she lifted her hands from the mattress, then struggled to keep her fingers from trembling as she fumbled with the buttons.
He stared at that triangle of exposed skin. “Nice. Very nice.”
How could something this simple make her burn with heat? she wondered.
His next words came to her over the buzzing in her brain as he said, “Lift your hands for me. Let me see you cup your breasts.”
The only way she could do what he asked was to close her eyes first. Behind her closed lids, she felt as though she were in a dream world. With deliberate slowness, she moved her hands from the buttons of the robe and cupped her breasts, feeling a stab of arousal.
It helped when she heard him draw in a quick breath because she knew he was reacting to this fantasy scene as strongly as she was herself.
His voice was thick as he said, “Brush your fingers over the nipples. Stroke the edges. Do what feels good to you.”
She did it, her own touch burning her body.
“Is that good?” he asked, his voice close to her and yet far away.
“Yes. . .” she managed to say, because speech was almost beyond her.
“Do you like the silky feel of the robe between your hands and your breasts?”
She gave a small nod.
“But I’ll bet it would feel even better without that layer of fabric. So unbutton some more of that robe for me. Just the top part if you want.”
She kept her eyes closed as she fumbled with the buttons, opening the next two.
“One more,” he growled. “You need to unbutton one more.”
She did as he asked, waiting for what must come next. Was he going to ask her to take off the robe?
“That’s a very tantalizing picture,” he murmured. “But I’ll like it even more if you push the fabric to the sides. All the way to the sides so I can see your breasts.”
Her fingers were trembling as she did his bidding, feeling the cool air of the room on her hot skin.
“That’s beautiful,” he murmured. “I knew you would be. But not this stunning. Seeing this view of you is breathtaking.”
She could hear the raspy sound of her own breathing. And his.
“Touch them again. Show me the things you like. Make yourself hot for me.”
She pressed her lips together as she found her breasts again with her hands.
“Tug on the nipples. Twist them a little, if that feels good. Run your fingernails over the tips.”
All of that felt good, and she couldn’t hold back a small gasp.
“You need to come, don’t you?”
She could only answer with a little whimpering sound.
“Good. That’s good. Unbutton the rest of the robe for me.”
Her fingers felt thick and clumsy as she did what he asked.
“Now spread the fabric apart all the way. Let me see you.”
As she did, she heard him draw in a quick, sharp breath. “Lord, that’s so beautiful.”
She felt exposed and hot enough to set the mattress on fire.
His voice caressed her, asking for more. “Open your legs a little. Let me see that part of you. The hidden, female part.”
She felt as though he were the one i
n control of her body as she shifted her legs.
“That’s so sexy. You’re so turned on, aren’t you? Wet and swollen. You need to do something about that, don’t you? You can touch yourself there.”
Her fingers obeyed him, taking a gliding stroke through her own hot, distended tissue.
Her hips rocked against her hand, increasing the pleasure of her own touch. She wanted to come now. Needed to come.
But not yet. Not quite yet.
She dragged in a steadying breath, opened her eyes, and looked straight into the heat and intensity of his gaze.
His pupils were dilated. His whole body was rigid as he focused on her.
“I can’t do this by myself,” she said. “I need you with me.”
“I am with you.”
“I need to know this is turning you on as much as it’s turning me on.”
“It is. You know damn well it is.”
“Then show me. Unbutton the snap at the top of your pants. Open the fly of your pajamas. Let me see your cock,” she said, focusing on keeping her voice from quivering.
“I. . .”
“You have to play, too,” she said, wondering what she would do if he refused, because her body felt like she was going to explode.
For several racing heartbeats, she wondered if he was going to do what she asked. Then he reached down and opened the snap at the top of the pants, bringing his erection out of the fabric. He was red and swollen, and there was a drop of semen at the tip. She smiled as she thought that she had done this to him.
The head of his erection was pointed toward her, and when he let his hand drop away, it gave a small jerk.
She summoned the strength to say, “No.”
“No what?” he asked, his voice low and strained.
“Let me see you touch yourself. Let me see what makes you hot.”
She could see he didn’t want to do it. Well, too bad. She had said she wasn’t going to play this game by herself.
“Run your finger around the glans,” she said, then felt a thrill of triumph when he did it.
“Does that feel good?” she asked.
He didn’t speak, but she knew by the look on his face that it did.
“Your turn,” he growled. “Dip your fingers into your vagina, then drag them up to your clit.”
