“And you were naked, too?”
He looked so hopeful. Too bad she’d have to disappoint him. “Never. In my fantasy, I keep my clothes on. It’s a power thing.”
“And then what happens?” He looked disappointed but intrigued.
“I torture you with my mouth and, umm, other body parts until you scream for mercy.” Her smile widened. “And then, sometimes, if you’ve amused me, I free you.”
His gaze darkened. “I wouldn’t count on me screaming for mercy any time soon.”
Mandy brightened. “No? Great. I hope it takes a long time.” She moved up close and tugged at his T-shirt. “Take it off.”
Without comment, he pulled it over his head. The pure visual impact of his wide muscular chest always wrung a small startled gasp from her. You’d think she’d be used to it by now. Maybe some natural wonders never lose their ability to awe.
Still silent, he discarded his sandals, and slid his jeans over his lean hips. Red briefs. Why was she not surprised? And she absolutely had not bought a red dress as a cheap ploy to turn him on. It hadn’t been cheap at all, and American Express would back her up.
He hooked his thumbs over the briefs, but before he could slide them down, she put her hands over his thumbs. “I’d like to do the honors.”
Con nodded and dropped his hands to his side. Kneeling on the concrete floor, Mandy pulled them over his powerful thighs and then let them fall to the floor where he kicked them out of the way.
Mmm. While the thinking part of Conleth Maguire was probably still analyzing data on her fantasy’s possibilities, his primitive center for sexual gratification had already decided that, hey, kinky is fun, and was rising to the challenge.
“You know, I’m glad those rumors that you’re twelve inches of long, strong man are off by a couple of inches.” She stroked his erection with the tips of her fingers. So much power to please sheathed in smooth taut skin. “Because according to those same rumors, I can fit every studly inch of you in my mouth. That would officially make me the babe with the biggest mouth in Texas.”
She watched him bite back his laughter. “If you keep mentioning my studliness and your mouth in the same sentence, you might have a very short fantasy.”
“Right. All serious here.” She narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips until she morphed into Super Vixen. “Up against the wall, animal.” She glanced at the wall. “What’re those manacles made of?”
“Plastic. Chains are plastic, too.” He backed against the wall and waited expectantly. “I won’t be able to put them on myself.”
“I guess I’ll have to get close to you and do it myself.” She offered him an evil leer.
Swaggering to where he stood, she pressed herself against his bare body as she reached for the manacles. “Spread your arms and legs.” Standing on her toes, she clipped the plastic cuffs on his wrists. When she was finished, she rubbed her breasts against his chest, lightly pinched each of his nipples, and then bent over to shackle his ankles. She maintained her bent position long enough for Con to realize that bras didn’t figure into her seduction plans either.
Finally straightening, she brushed her lips across his. “Where to start, where to start?” Mandy smiled her most wicked smile. “You have so many things to pay for.” She trailed kisses across his chest, pausing to flick each nipple with her tongue. All of this nipple action was making her feel . . . anxious. It was also setting off some minor tremors in parts of her body susceptible to major quakes.
“Okay, had enough. Let me go.” A thin sheen of sweat was forming on his body.
She made a small moue of disappointment. “I can’t let you go yet. I haven’t even started to exact payment.” Mandy slid her tongue down the middle of his chest and over his flat stomach. “That’s for the snakes with blue butterflies on their tails.” The minor tremors were escalating to anticipatory clenching, and her nipples were experiencing extraordinary sensitivity. All signs of a coming eruption. She frowned. Wait, eruption meant volcano and trembling meant earthquake. Oh, what the hell. The earth would move. That’s all she needed to know.
“Push me too far, Harcourt, and you . . . probably won’t regret it.” He looked desperate, but loving it.
Dropping to her knees again, Mandy glided her fingers along his inner thighs, and then bent forward to gently kiss the flesh around his arousal. “This is for painting my bare behind in your picture. The only reason I’m showing some mercy is because you painted yourself beside me.” And because her own body was making some pretty specific demands. She needed to speed things up.
“You’re killing me with your mercy, wicked woman.” His breathing was taking on a raspy sound.
“Thank you. We do what we can.” She cupped his balls in her palms and circled each with the tip of her tongue.
“And this is for making me want you again.” Circling his erection with her tongue, she worked her way up to the head. Then she slid her lips over the head and swirled her tongue in ever tightening circles—teasing, tormenting.”
He groaned and then sucked in his breath. For a moment the room was completely silent. As he exhaled sharply, she slid her mouth down his length, taking him deeply. Slowly, she began the rhythmic in and out motion that would drive him beyond control.
Talk about control . . . The male taste of him, the heated scent of him, and the sensation of her mouth sliding over his flesh, made her want to stand up, wrap her legs around his hips, and take him right there against the wall. Whoa, she was losing it.
“Stop now, Mandy. I’m not going to
