Читать книгу The Dare Collection August 2019 - Christy McKellen - Страница 14

Wear a dress, no underwear.

I READ THE text again for at least the hundredth time while tiny ripples dance down my abdominal muscles and everything below my waist tightens. I cover my face with my hands, threatening my carefully applied make-up, and groan.

What am I doing? What did I do?

My breath shudders into my lungs on a surge of shame. I confessed my long-held crush to Reid Faulkner. I negotiated sex into my Faulkner contract. I propositioned him and then I rode his hand on his boardroom conference table. And, of course, I agreed to play by his rules, the reason I’m in my current underwear predicament.

A hysterical giggle escapes past my fingers as I reread the text. I never believed Reid would go for my sexy proposition. I clutch my stomach, reliving the cascade of emotional turmoil I felt over our negotiations. Navigating the currents and rips of keeping my Faulkner contract solid while broaching the elephant in the room of our chemistry. The lingering niggle of fear I was wrong about our mutual attraction. The possibility he’d think our age difference insurmountable, or still see me as an easily ignored and mopey teen.

I slip my phone inside my bag to stop myself from reading the text again.

I’m over thinking. Reid was clearly on board with the sex-only arrangement. As long as he sticks to his side of the bargain and stays out of my plans for the Faulkner, I need only sit back and enjoy our fling.

Why, then, am I still wearing my underwear?

I sigh, applying another slick of gloss to my bottom lip for good measure. I’ve spent the year following Josh’s betrayal working long hours, clawing back a client list, rebranding C&L Interiors and putting my personal life on hold. Now it’s time to have a little of what I want and truly put the past behind me.

But with Reid, of all men?

He doesn’t trust easily, that much is clear from some of the comments he’s made. And I understand. I trusted Josh even after the cheating, accepting his seemingly heartfelt apologies, even counselling him through his confusion over his sexuality. I snort at my own stupidity. I spent hours ignoring my own needs while listening to his assurances that we could stay friends, still work together even though we were ending things as a couple.

My stomach pinches as I recall the shock of arriving at the office the Monday following our break-up to find no sign of him, current client files wiped from the computer and the business account stripped of funds.

I hover near the laundry basket, debating the pros and cons of following Reid’s sexy request. I don’t need his trust to enjoy this. I can make the most of our mutual attraction, reclaim my personal life as fiercely as I’ve fought to rebuild my business. Surely I’ve done the hardest part—admitting I fantasised about him and demanding he play the starring role as I live out those fantasies.

I close my eyes, recalling his kiss this morning in his boardroom...my pulse speeds and my internal muscles clench just thinking about the way his lips commanded mine just as I’d always imagined; the way he touched me, his big frame holding me; the way my body felt vibrantly alive for the first time in a year, reality outstripping every Reid fantasy I’ve ever had.

My stomach flips, excitement winning.

Before I can change my mind, I hike up my dress and slide off my lacy thong, tossing it in the laundry basket with a liberating finality. I smooth my palms over my hips, the sensual chill of the fabric lining my dress of choice joining the cool air between my legs—a sensual promise that makes my breath catch as if Reid is already in the room. Just like the promise of his text, the promise of his words.

‘Expect to come a lot. Expect my very enthusiastic and frequent attention. Expect to have all your fantasies fulfilled.’

His car is waiting outside my ground-floor flat in Parson’s Green when I emerge, determined to embrace the arrangement I set in motion. He steps from the back and greets me with a chaste kiss to the cheek. But his mouth twists in the rare but astounding smile I’ve always adored, his scruff-covered jaw scrapes against my skin, sparking my nervous system alive as if he has the unique key to my erogenous zones, and his warm breath tickles my neck as he whispers a gruff, ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Thanks.’ I stifle my body’s uncontrolled judder of pleasure that he, Reid Faulkner, wants me. My eighteen-year-old self would flip cartwheels down the street.

I stroke the lapel of his jacket, this one navy where this morning’s had been charcoal. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ He’s wearing a fresh shirt, the subtle scent of his cologne and undertones of something soapy telling me he’s taken time out of his day to prepare for our ‘dinner date’.

I slide into the car and press my thighs together, the cool leather on the backs of my legs going some way towards counteracting Reid’s appearance, which floods my pelvis with gooey heat and hijacks my pulse with anticipation.

He settles beside me and signals to his driver but leaves the privacy screen down, and I try to hide my disappointment that he’s not going to ravish me before we even make it to the restaurant.

‘How long have you lived in Parson’s Green?’ he asks, setting the tone to polite conversation.

I answer, my hands clenched in my lap. I don’t want to talk about the house I once shared with Josh. The house he encouraged me to remortgage to bolster our growing business and the debts he could so easily ignore when he walked away with our most lucrative clients.

‘Where do you live?’ I’m helpless against the way his mouth moves as he answers, remembering the decadent way he kissed me this morning—full pelt, like he’d been dying to do it since I stepped into the Faulkner Group offices the day before.

I half listen to him talk about Chelsea and how he and his brothers all live within a mile of each other, and close to Graham. I remember how close-knit they were growing up, although Kit and Drake seemed to squabble a lot, dragging Reid into the occasional argument on the rare occasions he was home when I visited.

‘You’ve drifted—everything okay?’ Reid’s voice draws me back to our date. ‘Nervous?’ he asks, and I want him to touch me, to shove my body into that heady euphoria of this morning.

I latch onto the lifeline of his dark blue eyes and nod. ‘A little. This is my first date—’ I make air quotes to let him know I’m not shifting the goalposts ‘—since Josh and I broke up.’

His hand lifts to push some hair back from my face but his fingers make no contact with my skin, to my endless frustration. ‘That didn’t end well for you, I’m sensing. Tell me about this dickhead of a fiancé who let you go.’

I grip my clutch bag and stare out of the window while I organise my emotions on the subject. Funny that admitting I was duped romantically is easier to confess than how naive I was businesswise, perhaps because, with the exception of Reid’s father, no one in my life ever really believed I was capable of running my own business. Even Josh, when I first suggested we start our own company, baulked at the idea, only coming around when I offered the small nest egg I’d inherited from my grandmother as the necessary start-up capital.

‘I caught him cheating, so no, it didn’t end well. Does it ever?’

Shock registers on his face and I take comfort from it for a few flattering seconds.

‘What an idiot.’ He takes my hand, the simple gesture incendiary to my body temperature and soothing the sting of admitting past humiliation I should have dealt with by now, but clearly have simply shelved while working to rebuild my business every waking hour.

I clear my throat, seeking the same bravery I found in his boardroom this morning. ‘I know it’s going to sound naive, but after the initial shock of my discovering his betrayal we parted on good terms. Tried to stay friends for the sake of the business we’d started together after university, which was where we met.’

Reid’s beautiful mouth twists. ‘That’s incredibly mature of you. I’m not sure I could have taken that attitude in your position.’

His compliment warms me, the years between us shrinking away for the first time. I change the subject, too close to admitting more and disabusing him of his regard.

‘What happened with you and Sadie?’

Shutters seem to cover his eyes, reminding me this apparent closeness is an illusion—we’re still virtual strangers. I know his father better than I know him.

‘Also didn’t work out, although not for the same reasons.’ He shrugs. ‘I dodged a bullet and it sounds like you might have as well. At least you hadn’t married the guy.’ His hand tightens around mine, his thumb swiping the back of my hand. ‘It must have been hard though, losing your fiancé and your business partner in one fell swoop and having to go it alone.’

I half nod, half shrug. If only he knew...

‘I channelled all my energies into the business—put in long hours, rebranded, raised the profile of the company. It’s made me stronger and cured me from ever wanting a business partner again.’

His smile is layered with respect, causing heat to unfurl inside me. ‘I can imagine, although being self-employed isn’t easy—that’s quite a burden of responsibility. At least I have Kit and Drake, and Graham taught me everything he knows. You’ve completely sidestepped from your family, branched out alone.’

I don’t need the reminder of how irrelevant what I’m doing is to my large, self-absorbed family, who, as I’m the youngest, have always completely underestimated me. ‘Well, it’s all about scale, isn’t it? You employ hundreds of staff. I have an office manager and a list of subcontractors. And Graham helped me out, too.’

‘He did?’ His surprise turns to what looks like awe. And I smile for their father-son bond. Of course, Reid and Graham must be close, working together all these years.

‘Yes. I’ve always valued and respected his opinions—he’s given me some valuable advice over the years.’

‘Such as?’

I stall, dozens of memories crowding my mind, most of them linked in some way to the man sitting beside me. ‘He always seemed to have time for me, even when he talked business with my dad—he once spent an hour explaining the way the stock market works to a fifteen-year-old me. When I earned a place at university he sat me down and told me to chase my passions, whatever they were, even if it was the path less travelled. He even came to my graduation ceremony—did you know that?’

Reid’s eyes widen. He seems shell-shocked, as if I’ve told him something about his father’s warm and giving personality that he didn’t previously know.

I continue. ‘When I qualified, I started work for a big company in the city—I hated it; I was creatively stifled and felt trapped. I’d chosen this career, against my own family’s advice, and for a moment there, I thought I’d have to admit they were correct and go back to Dad for a job with my tail between my legs. Then I talked to Graham about the idea of starting C&L Interiors. Of course, he knew little of the creative aspects, but he offered plenty of sage business-related advice, put me in touch with a great business-mentoring organisation and was so enthusiastic and encouraging I felt I couldn’t fail. But then, I’ve always found him generous like that.’ I swallow hard at the sickening reminder that, of course, I could fail and almost had.

‘Yes. Yes, he is.’ Reid looks at me as if with fresh eyes. ‘I was unaware you two were that close. I guess I’ve been a little out of the loop, socially.’

I can’t hold back any longer—I have to ask, for my own peace of mind. ‘Is Graham’s confusion likely to be temporary?’ The backs of my eyes burn and I have to swallow repeatedly to keep myself in check.

Reid glances out of the window at the passing traffic, perhaps looking for a distraction. ‘The doctors say it’s dementia.’ He turns back to face me, his sculpted jaw tense. ‘We’re awaiting a second opinion.’

I cover my mouth in shock, my mind racing with the implications. ‘I’m so sorry, Reid. That must be very hard for you, Drake and Kit, and, of course, Graham.’ My eyes burn anew as I recall all Graham’s kindnesses and considerations over the years. ‘He’s a lovely man.’

I want to pry some more, to ask about Graham’s prognosis and what it means for him and the family. But the car pulls to a halt, ending our conversation and giving me a few seconds to pull myself together.

Reid exits and I follow, my hand still nestled in his. With my head reeling after what he’s just confessed, I’ve barely found my balance on the pavement, when he steps closer, backing me up until my backside hits the car door and our chests collide. My breath hitches as all thought except of the man towering in front of me ebbs away. His warm, hard body pressing against mine from chest to thigh reminds me how decadent touching him feels. How forbidden even the idea of him has been for so long. How, after fighting and striving to make it alone, this past year has drained every sexual impulse from me, and the idea of handing over control to this man—albeit just in the bedroom—leaves me giddy with relief and anticipation.

I look up, achingly aware of his height, his broad chest, every spectacular masculine inch of him.

His arms encircle me, our entwined hands settling in the small of my back as he crushes me to his chest.

‘Thank you.’

‘What for?’ His shirt smells fantastic, and I want to rub the scent all over myself so I can wake up tomorrow and relive tonight.

He pulls back and I’m left deprived of his heat under my cheek. ‘For telling me how my father helped you.’ The flash of uncertainty which momentarily crosses his features is so out of place, I almost convince myself I didn’t see it.

‘You’re welcome.’ I’m dying to ask questions. To press him for his confidence, but instinct tells me he’d disappear behind that controlled veneer quicker than the snap of a mousetrap. And the selfish, horny part of me is grateful I kept my mouth shut when I catch the intense look on his face a split second before his mouth descends and he kisses the air from my chest.

I cling to the sleeve of his jacket with my free hand as I kiss him back, any thought beyond how good it feels to be able to do this with him abolished.

He breaks away first, his chest heaving. ‘Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that since you stepped out of your front door.’ His lips brush mine again and he grins, almost apologetically. ‘I’d planned to draw out the anticipation, but you’re too irresistible.’

I laugh, all my nerves forgotten, and wipe the smear of my lip gloss from his mouth.

‘Thanks.’ He peels his body from mine and I almost hear our combined sigh of regret as we head inside. He guides me ahead of him, his hand in the small of my back. His fingers slide to the top of my arse, caressing, sending snakes of delight down to the backs of my knees.

I exhale through pursed lips as I settle myself in our discreet, booth-style table. Reid sits close enough that our thighs brush, his touch doing something wonderful to fan every flutter of excitement inside me so I’m desperate with anticipation. Not content with this, he spreads his legs in that way men sit, so now we’re touching hip to knee and I’m left deliciously curious as to how much space he needs to create between his thighs. My mouth dries and he presses his leg against mine in a very deliberate move.

‘Hungry?’ he asks, his thumb idly swiping back and forth on my bare shoulder where he’s casually slung his arm around my back.

I shrug, the keg of lust inside me filling to capacity. ‘A little.’ How can he do this to me, inspire so much lust with just a look and minimal body contact? Clearly a year without sex is too long. Clearly my fantasies were spot-on and the long wait to have them fulfilled was worth every second of yearning.

His stare hits me—seductive, bold, a challenge. ‘Did you get my text?’

I nod, my brain fried by his heated eye contact, the scrape of his commanding voice and the reminder he wanted me bare and I willingly, almost giddily, complied. He’s taking my fantasies and adding layer after layer of extras until I’m certain I’ll combust from desire.

His eyes dip from my face, travelling at a snail’s pace over my breasts and down into my lap, where my hands are clutched. ‘Good, because I’m ravenous.’ His eyes meet mine, and the flames in my belly reignite.

I forget how to breathe, revelling in the beam of his attention, just like this morning, when any other Faulkner employee could have disturbed us. My blood roars so hard, I completely miss the waiter asking for our drinks choice.

Reid keeps his eyes on me. ‘What do you say?’ He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, fingertips grazing, in no hurry. ‘Champagne?’

I nod, my mouth too dry for speech. Now he’s touched me, kissed me, it’s as if he can’t keep his hands to himself. I resist the urge to fan my face or douse my body with the chilled water on the table. I know I wanted this, but at this rate I’ll be a pile of ash before we’ve even ordered.

When we’re alone, I gather some of my wits and clear my throat. ‘Just so we’re clear, I’ll be paying for dinner.’ He can control the sex—something tells me I’ll reap all the rewards tenfold—but I’m still a strong, independent woman. Of course, we may have to limit ourselves to the one bottle...

Reid snorts. ‘I don’t think so.’ He inches closer, the heat in his stare constant, as if my suggestion carried negligible consequences.

‘Dutch, then? This was my idea.’

Reid’s stare narrows, searching, and then he dips his head so his lips graze my cheek. ‘You said I could be in the driver’s seat, so why don’t you relax about the bill?’

The feminist in me baulks, deciding next time, if there is a repeat date, I’ll put up more of a fight. Then I remember I suggested sex. We’re here because I made him a proposition beyond business. And I conceded control so I could live out the very Reid fantasies making me hot and achy and embarrassingly damp between my legs...

Perhaps sensing victory, he grins, has the audacity to wink. ‘Get used to it. Besides, we have more pressing matters to discuss.’ His stare dances over my face, settling on my mouth, and he leans in so his lips brush my ear. ‘Let’s pick up where we left off this morning. You touching yourself, me walking in, watching, taking over...’ His voice recites the events as if I needed the recap, but it’s imprinted on my memory.

‘So, tell me, how else did I touch you in these early fantasies? Because I need to touch you again.’ His breath slides down my neck as he dips his chin and hums a sexy growl low in his throat while inhaling deeply.

He’s sniffing me.

I shudder as my whole body tingles. My mouth opens but no sound emerges—I’m so turned on I literally couldn’t speak even to warn him that the building around us was on fire. I check his expression, seeing the need I glimpsed this morning as I came back down to earth after my orgasm.

‘Here?’ It’s a croak. First his boardroom, now this restaurant... Perhaps he’s some sort of exhibitionist. Do I care? As long as the boundaries of our game are so beautifully delineated. As long as I get what I want from this, from him.

He wets his lips and nods, his stare bouncing down to my mouth. ‘I can’t help myself.’

I look down to where his hand rests on the table, his fingers impatiently drumming. I nod too, so overcome with lust, I’ve forgotten all of the words in my vocabulary.

The other hand, which rests behind me on the seat, skates up my back and settles at the nape of my neck and then he’s tugging me forward until our mouths touch in a slow, sensual glide of lips and mingling of warm breath.

I gasp as he releases me, nowhere near done with his particular brand of kisses, but he doesn’t pull away. His eyes are intense as he looks to the place his mouth has just been as if he’s just tasted the most delicious delicacy on earth and he wants more. His tongue peeks out and touches his top lip as he raises his hand and wipes a smear of lip gloss from my chin.

Pressure builds in my chest. I suck in a breath, preparing to touch my mouth back to his.

The waiter returns and Reid relaxes back into the leather beside me while I try my best to breathe normally and to not leave scorch marks on the leather.

Fucking hell. Have I ever been kissed the way he kisses me—with such delicious dichotomy? Devouring and demanding this morning, lazily thorough while pressed against his car, and slow and sensual in this quiet corner, as if I’m on the menu and he’s determined to savour every bite. If I’d known it would be this good, perhaps I should have risked everything and thrown myself at him years ago.

The waiter pours the wine at Reid’s request and then departs. I take a glug to settle my pounding blood before I lose consciousness and miss all the fun. I instinctively knew he’d be good...but this is a whole new level.

‘So what would you like to eat? The seafood here is excellent.’ Reid flips open his menu, eyes downcast, while his other hand settles on my knee under the table as if we’ve casually touched each other intimately a thousand times.

Warm. Confident. Thrilling.

Despite the way he touched me this morning, the intimacy is still alien enough that I freeze, the tingles from his palm print travelling up my thigh straight to my bare clit. He’s inches away from touching my nakedness. In a public place. No closed door between us, and the other patrons only metres away.

I should push him away, but, as if controlled by a lascivious third party, my thighs spread a fraction.

‘What are you doing?’ I whisper, while bubbles of adrenaline pop in my veins.

His thumb strokes back and forth over my feverish skin with the familiarity and comfort of a lover, as if it’s one of the million touches we share as a couple. But we’re not a couple. We know only the superficial facts about each other. And this somehow adds to the potent hormonal mix.

He looks up from the menu as if I’ve requested nothing more banal than the time. ‘I can’t keep my hands off you, and you must have had more than one fantasy—I want details.’

It’s so matter-of-fact, I’m sure my mouth hangs open, while all I can do is nod.

‘I can’t stop thinking about this morning,’ he says. ‘About what other fantasies you have. And just knowing you might be bare under here...’ His stare darkens and he presses a silencing finger to my lips. ‘Don’t tell me—I want to find out for myself.’ Then his attention flicks back to the menu while his fingers grip, pressing into my thigh like brands.

I check how low the white linen tablecloth drops, ensuring whatever he has planned won’t be witnessed by the rest of the diners. I slide a cursory stare over the menu, the bone-melting lust stealing my decision-making capabilities. Not that food could make it past my tight throat. ‘The chicken looks good.’

‘Mmm...’ he murmurs, his hand inching higher while he peruses the à la carte menu. ‘I think I’ll have the lamb.’ He closes his menu and returns the intensity of his focus to me.

I can’t help the shudder. I bite my lip and reach for my wine to cover my reaction.

‘Feeling okay?’ He too takes a swallow, the bob of his Adam’s apple mesmerising.

‘Fine.’ About to combust, but fine.

‘You feel better than fine to me.’ His fingers stroke. His stare burns. His voice scrapes. Then slowly and deliberately he says, ‘Open.’

One low, seductive word and I jump to his bidding as if I’m a conditioned lab rat desperate for my reward, spreading my thighs a fraction more so he can continue the caress of his palm.

‘So smooth and silky and warm.’ He leans in, lowering his voice to an intimate whisper. ‘And now I know what awaits me at the top of this thigh... I’m struggling to work up much of an appetite for food, unless it’s for dessert.’

The look on his face—pure, unrestrained lust combined with his stark declaration—drags a squeak from me and I lower my shaking wine glass to the table. My heart thuds as I struggle for breath around the intrusive visions of having Reid’s cock in my mouth, having him desperate and out of control and as needy as I feel right now.

‘Penny for your dirty thoughts,’ he growls.

How does he know? How can he turn me on so effortlessly? How can I want him so fiercely?

I rest my elbow on the table and lean closer. ‘I want your cock in my mouth.’

His fingers still, eyes blazing with lust.

I continue, spinning out the fantasy I can tell turns him on, too. ‘I used to dream about coming to the Faulkner, finding you alone in your office and wordlessly dropping to my knees behind your desk.’

His groan, eyes heavy-lidded, is music to my ears.

I lean closer, drop my voice to a more intimate whisper. ‘You’d splutter, ask me what I was doing, but you wouldn’t stop me as I unzipped your trousers and took you into my mouth.’

‘Fuck it, Blair. Touch me. Now.’ He lifts one eyebrow, his command so gravelly, the sound buzzes over my nipples.

I glance around the dining room, but no one pays us any heed. No doubt we look like any other loved-up couple, out for a romantic dinner. We’re so close on the seat, we could be holding hands under the table.

I place my hand on the steel of his muscular thigh, my stare holding his in challenge.

‘Higher,’ he bites out.

I obey, sliding my hand all the way up to the big, stiff length of him braced against the fly of his trousers.

His lips part as I stroke him with my fingertips, pressing my thumb to the spot below the head that drags a low growl from him. ‘You’re going to get your wish one day soon—trust me. First thing tomorrow morning I’ll be getting a lock installed on my office door.’

‘Don’t bother,’ I whisper, sliding my thumb over the head of his cock, certain his trousers feel damp, as if he’s leaking already. ‘Someone coming in was part of the fantasy. I’d keep going, concealed under your desk, and you’d try to continue a conversation while I took you to the back of my throat.’

He leans close, his mouth moving through the curtain of my hair. ‘You wonderful woman. I’ve been sitting behind that desk hard for you all day—fucking uncomfortable feeling, let me tell you.’ His confession makes me smile, the idea this urbane CEO spent the day discreetly adjusting himself around the office because of me adding another layer of turned-on to my weakened body.

‘Why didn’t you do something about it?’ The thought of him stroking what I have in my hand while he thinks of me sends pulses of heat through my core. That I could inspire such...desperation after being invisible for so long. My throat dries and I swallow. Would he jack himself off hard and fast or pump slowly, his wrist twisting...? My thighs twitch, desperate to come together, but reluctant to dislodge the torturous, crawling passage of his hand.

‘Because it’s for you.’ The brows once again rise as he pins me with a look packed with promise. ‘I’m saving every drop for all the fantasies you have.’

I’ve been so turned on by his words, by touching him and learning what he likes, I’ve missed the fact his hand hasn’t idly lingered in one place on my leg. When his finger brushes a whisper of touch over my exposed lips, I gasp as the sensation practically knocks me back in the seat.

‘Here is my dessert,’ his filthy voice husks, intimate, for my ears only. ‘I’m ravenous for this. Was that also part of the fantasy?’ His fingers circle while he speaks, and I fight to conceal the judders that rack my body as he strums my clit. I bite my lip, grasping hold of the pleasure, trying to keep it locked inside. Private.

‘Tell me—did you ever fantasise about me putting my mouth on you?’

I offer a shaky nod, and triumph blazes over his face.

The waiter returns with some starters I have no recollection of ordering. I snatch my hand from Reid’s crotch and he does the same from mine, but slowly, surely and with a confidence that leaves me wondering how many times he’s done this public pleasuring routine before...

Lucky women.

Reid props his elbow on the table as the waiter deposits our plates. He looks directly at me, presses his thumb—the one that’s just rubbed me close to melting—to his lips and swipes his tongue over the wet pad.

‘Mmm...delicious.’ It’s subtle. Reid’s polite smile for the waiter, his quick glance down at the food, covers his real meaning. But I flush all over, my body temperature now dangerously high.

And so it continues.

Over every course we tease each other beneath the table. I barely touch my food and, although Reid fares a little better, I’m certain he too struggles.

By the time he asks for the bill, he’s dragged me close to the edge of climaxing at least twice, so I’m so desperate to come I’ve forgotten my own name.

My legs, as he guides me from the restaurant, are so wobbly I’m tempted to remove the heels I know make my legs appear longer in case I collapse before we reach the car.

When I’m panting on the back seat, my thighs pressed tightly closed to ease the burn, I glare at him, torn between begging and demanding he’ll do something to finish me off.

‘Fancy a nightcap at my place,’ he says, ‘or shall I drop you home?’

I appreciate the out clause, but home...? In this state...? The curl of his lip floods my body with relief.

‘Nightcap sounds lovely, thanks.’ My voice is an embarrassing croak and I want to swallow him whole in punishment.

He gives free rein to a full-out sinful smile. ‘Egerton Crescent please, Terry,’ Reid says to the driver before sliding closed the tinted privacy screen.

I practically sob with relief. Then I launch myself into his lap.

His hands grip my hips as I cover his mouth with mine, so desperate I drag my teeth over his bottom lip and pull back, panting, at his grunt of warning. ‘That’s for teasing me.’ I rub his still hard length through his trousers and grapple with his belt buckle.

He’s driven me so successfully to the brink of delirium all night, if he doesn’t touch me soon I’m going to do it myself, right here in front of him, private or not.

He shoves me off his lap, tipping me onto the leather seat beside him and then following me so he can kiss me back. ‘You want it here? In the back of a car? Another fantasy?’

‘As opposed to a restaurant full of people?’ I smile even though I’m a turned-on mess.

‘Fair point.’ His chuckle emboldens me to unleash some more honesty, as it seems to fire him up.

‘I’ve fantasised about you in every conceivable location.’ Before I have a chance to tug his smug mouth back to mine, his hand slips along my thigh, heading north in the way he’s tortured me throughout dinner.

‘Oh, no. No way. There’ll be no more teasing.’ I spread my thighs, wriggling my dress up around my waist, until they’re wide enough that he slots into place, his erection pressed up snug where I need him the most.

I reach for his fly, tugging while I kiss him, and giggle because his face is wreathed in amusement. It’s not funny, but his smile is boyish, reminding me of a younger Reid—and seriously infectious. I grind my hips against his steely length. ‘I need you now.’ I look around for my clutch bag, where I’d stowed a condom before leaving the house.

Reid rears back, his hands grasping both my wrists and pressing them beside me on the seat. ‘I fucking love your eagerness...’ He rubs his lips over mine, his tongue a tease. ‘But I’m still hungry.’ The grin he shoots me steals my breath.

He keeps me pinned by the hands while he slides to his knees between my spread thighs. I’m light-headed, on fire, every inch of me alive with sparks. If he touches me with his mouth, I’m sure death will be imminent. But if he doesn’t...either way I’m not long for this world.

‘I thought I was giving you head...’ I manage to say.

‘Maybe later. But first I want to see exactly what’s under here, up close and personal.’ He releases my hands and spreads my thighs another few inches so he can wedge his broad shoulders between my knees. My thighs quake. I suck in ragged gasps, trying to contain the frenzy inside—one of his creation and one only he can quench.

Then the anticipation falters with a fizzle and a final pop.

Josh never went down on me. He always seemed eager for the main event, and I stupidly believed he was so crazy for me he couldn’t wait. Stupid, naive Blair. The kick of shame slams into my ribs, stealing my breath, and I tense my thighs, preparing to push Reid away.

At his resistance, I look down, convinced this is too good to be happening and furious I still have unresolved Josh-related issues threatening to sour my delicious deal with Reid.

Reid grins up at me, his face alive with need as he shrugs out of his jacket and pushes up his shirtsleeves as if he’s taking this very seriously.

Fuck, that’s hot.

‘Tell me to taste you.’ His wicked eyes gleam as he kisses one knee.

I’m struck speechless by lust and lingering ripples of doubt. I don’t think I can speak.

His mouth grazes my other thigh, lazily waiting as if he has all the time in the world, while his eyes dance with excitement.

He wants the words, wants my wildest imaginings.

‘Taste me,’ I croak, collapsing under the weight of his evident arousal. ‘Make me come with your mouth—no one else ever has.’

He grins. ‘Ah, I love a challenge.’

I bite back how I’m certain he can pull it off—this man could probably make me go off just by looking at me.

‘Don’t make too much noise,’ he stage-whispers. ‘We don’t want Terry to know what’s going on.’ Reid looks like he doesn’t give a shit if Terry has a front-row seat and eats popcorn, and that extra trill of excitement sets me aflame until I melt into the seat.

‘Stop talking.’ I want so much more from the sensual mouth he’s slowly dragging up one of my thighs.

‘Whatever you say.’ He smiles, wraps an arm around my hips and drags me to the edge of the seat. At the same time, I cup my hand around the back of his neck and guide him forward with a whimper of desperation I can no longer hold inside.

Then his mouth is on me, and my vision tunnels as a gasp is sucked up from my lungs. I’m so busy absorbing the shock of pleasure when he spears his tongue inside then alternates with swirls and flicks over my swollen clit that I forget to breathe, and the roof of the car hazes out of focus as my lungs scream.

It’s the best moment of my life.

Reid’s sexy grunts of pleasure break the tension. I suck in a huge breath and look down to where he’s eating me out with voracious appetite, stark hunger in his stare. He smiles up at me, wicked delight etched in every plane of his handsome face.

‘Oh...my...’ My throat closes.

My chest heaves, every fear confirmed. I have been short-changed. Served watery, lumpy mashed potato versus loaded French fries, unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

I open my eyes to make sure he’s real.

He looks up, grinning again as he slides his fingers inside, stealing the last of my doubts. This is going to happen. This is my fantasy come true. I’m going to come on his mouth with him watching me. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.

I let go completely, lift my thigh over his shoulder and grind my hips, riding his face with abandon. Another cry rips from me and I come, my back arched so my head presses into the seat behind and my hands brace—one flat on the widow and one in Reid’s hair.

O... M... G...

He hums a long, low sound that tells me he’s as pleased with himself as I am. I drag the last shudders from my body by jerking my hips against his mouth and then push him away, the pleasure finally unbearable.

He tugs my dress down my thighs and sits beside where I’m still partially sprawled. But seriously, after that...am I really expected to move?

‘Well, that was worth the wait. How did it live up to the fantasy?’ His smile floods me with renewed heat, and a niggle of concern that I might be in over my head where this intense intimacy with Reid is concerned. After all, my feelings, although immature, once carried that all-consuming quality only a youthful infatuation can. I’ll need to stay on my guard and keep everything but the pleasure off the table. One look at him and the strong desire to gorge myself on Reid Faulkner until neither of us can stand helps to set my mind back on the correct track.

‘It was okay for an old guy,’ I lie, reaching for him to kiss the self-satisfied smirk from his lips as he laughs at my outrageous jibe. Can’t have him getting too cocky. And then I keep going, dragging my mouth along his jaw and down his neck while I grapple once more with his trousers. ‘Time to return the favour.’

Reid cups my face, bringing my eyes back to his.

‘Much as that is a fucking awesome idea—’ he wipes my lips with the pad of his thumb ‘—we’re here.’

I look up to see we are indeed slowing, pulling off the road and driving into an underground garage.

‘To be continued?’