A wild girl would love this gift. She’d laugh, wear those and nothing else for her lover. A wild girl would do just that.
What about a good girl pretending to be wild?
She dropped the box, but kept the lace in her hand.
His eyes were on her face. He seemed even…bigger now. Or maybe her room was getting smaller. “I tore your panties last night.”
Oh, God. Heat rose in her cheeks. Yes, he’d torn them, and she’d left them in her office. Smooth.
“Figured the least I could do was give you a new pair.” His hand lifted and tangled with hers. “A pair for you to wear just for me.”
Jonas Kirk was standing in front of her, promising her great sex, and giving her sexy underwear. This scene was really similar to a dream she’d had last week.
His head tilted toward her. “You up for this?” he dared her.
What? Did he think she was all talk? That she’d turn away when things got too hot? Hadn’t he realized she was desperate for the heat?
“Stay here,” she told him, her voice too husky. She eased around him. Christie forced herself to walk, nice and slow, and added a little roll to her hips as she left him. Watch me, watch me.
At her bedroom door, Christie glanced back just in time to catch his gaze on her ass. More confident, she threw him a smile.
Then she closed the door and shut him out, right before her knees buckled.
4
Jonas sucked in a deep gulp of air. The fresh scent of pine filled his nostrils even as the taste of Christie stayed on his tongue.
He rolled his shoulders and paced toward the glittering tree. Okay, so he hadn’t fucked things up too badly. She was still interested in him. Well, maybe not him, but in having sex with him. No-strings, no-promises sex.
He’d sure had plenty of that in his life.
The door creaked open behind him. He swung around and took a hard punch to the gut—or at least, it sure as shit felt like he did.
Christie stood in the doorway, her long black hair loose around her face, her deep blue bedroom eyes tempting him…and she was naked.
His cock shoved against the front of his jeans, and he lunged toward her.
“The panties fit,” she told him, her cheeks a little red, and he managed to jerk his gaze off her breasts—freaking beautiful breasts with tight pink nipples—and he saw that she was wearing the scrap of lace.
Not naked. Still so sexy he hurt.
The lace rode low on her round, perfect hips. Hips that he’d grab and hold tight while he drove into her. Hips that—
“Jonas, is everything—”
“Perfect. Everything is fucking perfect.” He took two steps and stood before her. Stood and just stared. Damn. Her skin was so smooth. Pale and perfect and he had to touch her. His hands lifted and skimmed down her shoulders. She shivered.
She wants me, just as much as I want her.
“The bedroom—it’s behind me and—”
He shook his head, caught her hand and pulled her with him. Back across the room. Back toward the glittering Christmas tree. A thick rug was spread between the tree and the fireplace. Perfect.
“Are you going to—to take off your clothes? Y-you should—”
He gently pushed her down onto the rug. “Not yet.”
Her breath blew out in a rush. He lowered onto his knees. Stared more and realized he had to touch. Not just with his hands. With his mouth.
He knew just where he wanted to start.
“Jonas, are you—”
Her words ended in a gasp when he licked her breast. She arched up toward him. Just as responsive as last night. So, no, he hadn’t been imaging things. Hadn’t made it better in his memory. One touch—fire.
He spread his lips wider and took her breast deeper into his mouth. Tasted. Sucked.
Jonas heard the rasp of her breath. Her hands rose and locked around his shoulders. The faint edge of her nails bit through his shirt.
“Easy,” he whispered as he lifted his head.
But his “good” girl shook her head. “I don’t want easy. I want you.” Her hand went to the buckle of his belt. “And I want you now, Jonas.”
She unhooked the buckle, went for the snap and the zipper—
He backed away from her. “Not yet.” He wasn’t going to let the first time be too fast or too hard. He’d promised her the best sex she’d ever had, and he was damn well going to deliver on that promise.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, his voice dropping to a growl.
Her legs shifted on the rug, then parted.
The zipper was probably making a permanent imprint on his dick.
He positioned his body between her legs, letting his jeans brush her flesh, and giving him a perfect view of her body.
She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted, pink tongue darting just behind her teeth. Waiting.
He stretched over her and took her mouth. Jonas kissed her long and deep and let his tongue take and claim. He took her mouth the way he’d be taking her body.
Mine.
He’d make sure she didn’t forget him, not any time soon. Not ever.
Jonas licked his way down her neck. When he came to the spot just under her left ear, her hips rocked up against him. He stilled. Then licked her again.
Another fast rock.
So his lady had a sweet spot. He bet she had more, and he was ready to find them all. But first…
His fingers eased under the lace. Sweetest spot of all. He found her already wet, the flesh plump and eager. A moan trembled in her throat.
He bit lightly on her neck, and when her hips arched, he let his index finger dip inside her.
She shuddered beneath him. Fuck yes.
But…not yet. He pulled his hand away from her and kissed his way down her body. Jonas took his time with her breasts, licking and sucking those dark tips. He loved the feel of her nipples on his tongue. The taste—still strawberries—still driving him crazy.
Her thighs lifted and squeezed him. “I can’t—more!”
He’d give her more. He’d give her everything she could handle and everything she couldn’t.
