by M. A. Ellis
“Hey, Erin?” He grabbed her chin and forced her head around, made her meet his eyes. “You’re still smokin’ hot to me, honey. I’m not some naïve twenty-year-old, okay? I’ve made love to mature women before. I like it. A lot. And I prefer them to have some curves. If I wanted the waif look, I’d be trolling university bars or hitting the clubs in the city. I’m looking for a woman with a little more substance. Physically and mentally.”
Erin stared into his beautiful eyes, trying to convince herself the look of pure honesty was a scam, that he was probably a giant bullshitter just like the majority of the male populace. But her heart was totally messing up that image. Big time.
“Don’t even try to downplay that intelligence. You’ve shown everyone just how freakin’ smart you are. I know you landed that PR job on your own. Linda told me. No using friends or contacts from your vast social circle. Five years and you’re at the top. Do you know how fuckin’ sexy a powerful woman is?”
“I’m not powerful.” It had been a challenge to speak. To form words to stop him when a part of her wanted to allow him to go on and on about her presumed greatness. She hadn’t been praised in a very long time. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed hearing those words coming from a lover’s lips.
Lovers.
They could be just that for one night. She could let him make love to her. Let him amaze her with expertise and stamina and adoring little words, which was what the allure of sex with a younger man really boiled down to, wasn’t it?
“You hold all the power at this minute. Everything from this point forward is your decision,” he said. “Now, if you want my professional opinion—boy genius that I am—I’d tell you to take advantage of the pendulum swinging your way and capitalize, capitalize, capitalize.”
He leaned forward and brought his lips back to her neck, lightly caressing the same spot with a slow, steady pressure that had her fingers curling hard enough that they threatened to crush the tape player she still clutched to her chest. Over the frantic pounding of her heart, Erin heard the distinct sound of the zipper of her jeans being lowered one tooth at a time. Slowly. Patiently. As if he had all the time in the world.
But not me. It’s now or never, woman.
She looked upward and met his expectant gaze and in that moment all she wanted was to touch him. To let go of the silly recorder that she thought was somehow protecting her and connect their bodies.
The undeniable urge had her tossing the machine onto an oversized armchair and reaching upward to tunnel her fingers through his hair. It was smooth. Silky. When she brushed her short nails across his scalp, he latched on to her neck tightly, sucking the skin between his teeth and then lessening the pressure to run his tongue against the same spot. Over and over and over until Erin shifted her hips and brought her body against the hand that was hovering near her crotch.
He pulled his head back and whispered against her neck as he slid his hand just inside the waistband of her jeans, stroking the elastic band of her cotton panties with his knuckles. “I’ll ask once more. Do you like having your pussy played with?”
This is it. Do or die. Now or never.
All the clichés known to man flitted through her brain. Followed closely by reason upon reason she should just say no.
“By someone other than me?” Erin asked softly. It wasn’t the teasing tone of voice used by a woman who was sophisticated. A woman who knew what she wanted.
He drew back and stared at her, his face emotionless, his eyes boring into her. She watched him watch her. His only reaction to her statement was the tiny clenching of his jaw.
“Yeah.” He leaned to the other side and latched on to her neck once more and she rocked her hips forward just as he flipped his wrist and palmed her mound. The heat of his hand, the pressure of his middle finger against her clit, had her grabbing his biceps in a death grip as a quick, pre-orgasmic stab shot through her lower body.
Desire overrode her last shred of sensibility and she circled her hips. In answer to her silent request he splayed his fingers over her vulva, leaving one delicious digit for her to grind against. She rode it, not caring how she must look. She couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. Even when he leaned back and watched her.
“How long’s it been since a man’s stroked these hot lips, Erin?”
“About two seconds,” she whispered. The corner of his mouth quirked, a sexy little dimple making a brief appearance before it disappeared.
“In all this time. No one but me then?” he asked in a very serious tone.
She shook her head, pussy throbbing a little faster at the way his gaze gleamed for just a second.
“With that piece of welcome news, I’m switching to Plan B.”
He dragged his hand away from her heat to cradle her face. She whimpered at the loss of his intimate touch and groaned a second later when he melded their mouths and kissed her slowly. Deeply. Working his lips against hers with such finesse that she shifted her hips, rubbing her thighs together in an attempt to stop the cream that was seeping from her core. He kissed her until she was literally short of breath and had to pull away.
Holy shit!
He was amazing.
“What was Plan A?” She had to ask, covertly sucking in some much-needed air.
He offered her a crooked grin. “Plopping you down on the ottoman and yanking your ass to the edge. Dropping to my knees, ripping off your panties and devouring your pussy until you screamed for me to stop. And me refusing to stop.”
Holy double shit!
“I’m good with that,” she blurted, glancing at the ottoman while a surge of desire shot through her nether regions.
He chuckled wickedly and the sound warmed her further. “Mmmm. Useful knowledge, Erin. I’ll file that away for later but for now, move your sweet little ass right over here.”
Her ass wasn’t little. Or sweet. But she allowed him to maneuver her toward the wall of windows. He squared her body and she found herself looking out into the darkness.
“That’s perfect. Now give me just a second.”
She watched his reflection in the glass as he tried a few light switches before finding the one that turned on the recessed lighting that was strategically placed at each corner of the office. A moment later the bulb directly above her head was dimmed to a soft glow. He strode across the room and shut off the lamp on the end table as well as the one on her desk until the room was darkened then stooped and picked up her manuscript on his way back.
“Now, let’s take up right here.” He pressed his body against her back and brought his arms around her. Erin leaned in to his warmth, unable to believe she was meekly standing half naked in his loose embrace.
He flipped the pages and she reached out, trailing her fingers along his muscled forearms as he searched.
“Ah. This is it. After the earl and his lady have banged themselves crazy in her bedchamber. For the record, Paul’s still pissed I interrupted that scene. Right here, where they’re in the solarium with the wind whipping outside and the sky turning cloudy.”
“You read that far? That’s halfway through the book,” she asked incredulously.
“I’m a quick reader…especially when it’s something captivating. Something that’s hot enough it gives me a hard-on. That first love scene definitely did that.”
He brushed her hair behind her ear and Erin turned her head into his caress, shocked when he placed a gentle kiss upon her temple.
“You’re very good, Ms. Erotic Romance Writer. Very, very good.” His breath teased the shell of her ear and a little wave of delight rolled down her spine. She didn’t want to overthink the reaction. Spawned by his words or his caress—she didn’t care which.
“I’m glad you think—”
“Except for one thing,” he added, moving his hands to her shoulders.
“What—” He stopped her when she would have turned and confronted him. She might not be an experienced writer, but she had enough confidence in herself that she di
dn’t need someone not even remotely close to her demographic offering criticism.
“Don’t get defensive. I said you’re a good writer and I meant it.”
He held her gaze in the reflection of the window and Erin consciously relaxed the fierce look on her face. She had quickly adopted the sentiment of most authors—that each book was like a baby. Something to be nurtured to the point of perfection and then held very dear.
“All I’m saying is that your male point of view needs a little tweaking. Or are your readers solely focused on your damsel in distress?” He slid his hands along her shoulders until his thumbs met and he slowly began to massage the knot of tension at the top of her spine. She closed her eyes and sighed.
“She’s not a damsel, she’s a heroine,” Erin said, feeling her argumentative spirit begin to dissolve. He had wonderful hands. Strong. Soothing. Capable of doing god knew what if she didn’t fly off the handle like some Shakespearian shrew.
“Feel good?” he whispered.
“Mmmm.” It was all the response she could manage.
“Would her ladyship like it if the earl was doing this?”
Erin hesitated then nodded . “Definitely.”
“So how much of yourself has been channeled into your heroine?”
Just that quickly Erin’s body tensed. She’d always thought she wanted a perceptive man. Maybe she’d been terribly wrong. The last thing she wanted to talk about was what inspired her.
“Relax, Erin. Hell, who doesn’t like to watch? At least on some level. It’s a pretty big turn-on, finding out you harbor a little kinkiness.”
Erin swallowed against the dryness in her throat and wondered if she should believe him. His words had kicked her heart into a thrumming beat.
“I don’t.”
“Oh but you do, honey. You sure as shit do. It was all right there in black and white. I’m actually down with visually sharing the experience with others—to a point. But I wouldn’t be anywhere near as patient as the earl. I’d want your undivided attention a lot earlier. That’s where I think your take on men is skewed. And an audience once in a while lends an air of naughtiness, but all the time—”
“They make love alone,” Erin defended. “In the master chamber.”
“When?”
She considered his question. It happened only once. “In the final scene,” she said softly.
“After page upon page of erotic action. Grooms and scullery maids and even his best friend catching glimpses of the earl tappin’ her ass. That scene in the forest, with the stable master—big-time boner alert. And when they finally get some alone time it’s not until the last few pages.”
“There’s no way you read that far. You couldn’t have.”
“As soon as I realized there might be a way to show you how much I want you, I started skimming. Looking for the occasional ‘cock’ and ‘pussy’ to clue me in to the fact they were going at it again. Which helped me focus on other things.”
“Such as?”
“The dictation portion of this evening’s entertainment, my lady.”
“Your what?”
“Bear with me.” He pulled his hands away and strode to the chair where he retrieved the forgotten tape player. He came back to her side and handed her the machine.
“Danny—”
“This is going to be great, Erin.” He kissed her quickly on the mouth and slid the screen door open and walked outside.
“I don’t understand,” she said, thoroughly puzzled.
A moment later she heard the distinct sound of him pulling one of the heavy patio chairs closer to the window.
“You will.” His deep voice came from the darkness. She saw a flash of white and knew he smiled briefly, but the rest of his shape was indiscernible in the dark.
“You looked like that famous literary cat,” Erin said, shifting against the throbbing between her thighs. The slight movement forced her gaze to her reflection in the glass. The not quite crisp image of her in her opened jeans and bra was pretty alluring.
“With any luck, there’ll be a little cream waitin’ for me when this is all over.” He laughed.
His so typically male words and the timbre of his voice made Erin excessively wet. The idea that he was comfortably seated and watching her made her pussy throb.
“When what’s all over?” Erin demanded, secretly admitting she couldn’t wait to see what was going to transpire. Her half naked. Him watching.
“Press Play, Erin. Just press Play.”
Chapter Three
Jesus, she was hot. The overhead light cast brightness and shadows in all the right places and Daniel clenched his fists, wondering why he had waited so damn long to make his move. He should have listened to Zac. That thought was as frightening as Erin not doing what he suggested. He held his breath, waiting to see if she would turn on the tape player. He prided himself on his quick thinking, and when he’d paged through her manuscript reading the highly erotic words, the proverbial light bulb had gone off. When he had turned on the player and listened to her soft voice recite the words she’d crafted, it had become clear there was more than the simple missionary-style mindset at work.
He watched the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, giving himself a mental pat on the back for not reaching around and fondling them when he had stood behind her. It would have been so damn easy to peel down the thin material of her bra and caress the softness. Full and undeniably not fake. So easy to test their weight in the palms of his hands before seeing just how sensitive her nipples were.
He shifted downward in the chair and spread his legs, giving his balls a little more room. Not that they’d need it. If she actually played along with his historical oration, his sac would be plastered against the base of his semihard cock in no time.
Erin peered out the window, focusing her gaze about two feet higher than the top of his head. She obviously couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there. Just like her horny heroine secretly knew each time she had an audience. He really did want to see how much of the author was embedded in the character and just how amenable she was to sharing that fact. He’d purposely chosen a scene after the earl had shown his lady how effectively she could pleasure herself. It seemed the perfect means for Erin to get a little insight into the male mind while he discovered just how adventurous she might be.
She glanced at the tape player, out into the darkness then back to her hands once more. Daniel waited, not realizing he was holding his breath until her index finger pressed the button and started the tape. She leaned to the side and placed the machine on the end table, and over the sudden acceleration of his heart, he heard his own voice.
“Isabella leaned her forehead against the pane of one of the conservatory’s tall windows and watched the final rays of the sun transform into a purple-hued dusk. Outside, the steward and the gardener appeared to be in a very heated discussion, no doubt prompted by something the overbearing earl had found unacceptable.”
They were her words—he’d dictated them precisely as she had written. But she’d soon find out that her hero wasn’t going to be walking up behind her and chastising her for disobeying his request that she wait for him in his room. He wasn’t going to show his power over her body and slowly strip her bare while the others covertly watched.
No, in Daniel’s quick revision, the earl had been in the courtyard outside the conservatory, enjoying an evening smoke. He wasn’t completely certain that was historically accurate, but it was the best he could come up with when brainstorming scenarios that had her inside and him outside.
“The earl stalked into the courtyard and quickly ordered the two men in his employ to make themselves scarce. He knew his lady well—knew she would disobey and end up in a spot as far away from his chamber as possible. He also knew she would have to be punished. Sweetly. With firm slaps to her shapely ass.”
He saw Erin’s eyes widen and he smiled. She hadn’t cracked up at his voice or his words. That was a plus for his plan. He had thought it
fairly predictable that he’d find her in her office after the choreography session and unexpected housecleaning. His career centered on anticipating a person’s logical next move. He assumed she’d want to make changes to her story.
“He took a quick puff of his cigar and walked slowly toward the conservatory door. She was gorgeous. Headstrong. He doubted he’d ever get enough of her lush body. The feel of her nipples getting hard as he licked them, the sweetness that pooled at the base of her pussy. ‘Did I not tell you there would be a price to pay for ogling the hired help?’”
Daniel smiled, completely delighted at the words. He’d done well.
“I’m tired of you disobeying. It wasn’t part of the bargain. But my having access to your body was. Take off your clothes, my lady. Nice and slow.”
Erin hesitated, but from the way she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her jeans, it appeared she wasn’t going to disappoint him.
Slowly shifting her hips to the left, then right, then left again, she wiggled her jeans halfway down her thighs and Daniel swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—he knew her panties were white and had lace trim—but it sure as hell wasn’t hip-hugging boy shorts. He’d never really been a fan. Until now.
She let her jeans drop to the floor but didn’t step out of them. Her legs were in great shape and the slight fullness of her upper thighs was testament to the fact her country-club lifestyle had fallen by the wayside. And Daniel didn’t care. All he wanted to do was wrap his hands around the fleshiness and spread her wide enough that he could cushion the side of his head on one thigh while his fingers leisurely explored her soft, slick folds.
His cock leaped at the thought and he ran his open palm against his growing erection. The one thing he wasn’t going to do was whack off during the show. Or maybe he should rub a quick one out so when he finally took her to bed, he’d have the longevity every woman desired and every man wanted to provide. He’d needed women before. But he’d never really wanted one. Not like he wanted Erin. He hoped she would believe that fact because the earl was just about to repeat Daniel’s sentiment.
