Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Fancy.”
The microwave beeped and she turned to it, pulling out the pastry and huffing slightly as she pulled it from the sleeve. He groaned when she took a large bite. Eyes wide and watery, she opened her mouth and fanned a hand before it like that was going to help cool it down.
“Coulda waited a second or three.” His deadpan remark was met with a narrowing gaze.
“Hungry.” She barely waited before taking another bite. This time the moan of pleasure kicked his cock to high gear.
“I’m going to shower. It’s fancy and I have to go back to my place and get a tux.”
He pulled one out in the shower, because otherwise it was going to be a hell of a night, then frowned as he stepped out and heard Jasmine talking to someone. Towel around his waist, he peered through the doorway and watched her nod to someone at the front door before she closed it on him.
While his woman had on more than a towel, she wasn’t wearing all that much. She walked back toward him, picking up a garment bag on her way.
“What’s that?”
“Tom Ford.” She brushed by him and hung the garment bag on the doorframe. Facing him, she raked her gaze over him and smirked. “Personally I’d rather you stay in the towel.”
Said towel began to lift as his cock swelled.
“I’d prefer you naked and on my dick.”
“Pencil me in for later.” A wink and she vanished in the bathroom.
He definitely would do that. Once he tugged on a pair of black boxer briefs, he unzipped the bag and whistled low. “Love me some Italian wool.”
A sharp onyx black. Satin along the lapel and side stripe, peak lapel, and double vent. The crisp black shirt fit like it had been made for him alone. Bowtie hanging around his neck, he drew up the pants and fastened them as she walked out of the bathroom in a barely there dark silvered gray lingerie set.
“Shit.”
Lace. It was lace covering her pussy in the smallest triangle possible. Her breasts were pushed up in some lacy bra that was going to have him hard all night. Her lips turned up as she walked toward him.
“You’re looking good, Detective.”
“You’re fucking sexy as hell.” He left the pants undone and prowled toward her, circling her but not actually touching. “You trying to kill me?”
“That would be counterproductive now, wouldn’t it? I wouldn’t get more of that dick I’m addicted to.”
Her Cheshire grin had his dick fighting for escape. Giving in to his need, he gripped that very cock and squeezed, loving how her gaze dropped there.
“It’s always for you, baby. Only for you.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Better be, because if I find out it’s gone in anyone else or been touched by anyone else, I’ll fucking feed it to you in pieces.”
Lance moved toward her and she locked her knees at the pure predation in his gaze. Fucking panty-melting. Jasmine understood why some women had a thing for men in tuxes. While jeans and a tee were her catnip, there wasn’t any denying how this looked on him.
He caged her in, hands on either side over her head, and bent close.
“We are supposed to get moving, baby and you being all dangerously possessive turns me on.” A deep breath and he dragged his nose along her neck and up along her face. “Seriously fucking turning me on.”
She whimpered as he thrust his thigh between hers, lifting her up on her toes, even in her heels. Her pussy clenched, desperate to have his thick length filling her, stretching her. Lance secured his hand around her throat.
Pulse kicking into high, she licked her lips. He squeezed and she rocked against the granite-hard thigh beneath her.
He lowered his face into hers and held her gaze. “Let’s go.” Another brief squeeze against the flutter of her pulse before he stepped back, and she nearly moaned at the loss of his touch. Lance helped her into her light jacket and they walked down to his vehicle, hand remaining at the small of her back.
She wasn’t sure where they were going and didn’t bother asking, it wouldn’t matter. They’d been demanded to attend so whether it was in a hotel, Dusan’s home, or in some fancy building, she was going to be there.
* * * *
He pulled up to the front of the aquarium and she leaned forward, interest piquing. The valet opened her door and held out his hand. By the time she’d unclicked her seatbelt, Lance had moved around and moved the valet out of his way, so it was Lance’s hand she settled her palm against.
“Thank you.” She didn’t pull away as he tucked her into his side.
“The thought of another’s hands on you, baby, makes me feral. Let’s try to get through the night without me ripping some dumbass’s head off and spitting down his throat, shall we?”