“Lena.” If she kept talking, he might say to hell with the fact that Eric Moore owned this house.
“I think you should start the truck now,” she said.
Chad nodded, walking around to the driver’s side, his mind filled with the images of Lena naked and kneeling. But shit, she might throw the brakes on when they got to that point.
“Are you sure about this?” He put the truck in gear and steered it down the drive to the main road.
“Yes. But I have to warn you. It has been a while since I took orders. It might take some practice.”
His mouth went dry. Words escaped him. He always had the right ones on the tip of his tongue, but Lena left him speechless, and sporting a hard-on that begged him to pull over and let her practice until sunrise.
“I might need to a give a few commands of my own,” she continued, her tone matter-of-fact, as if discussing what she had for dinner. “What I have in mind, it’s on the edge of vanilla.”
Chad pressed on the brakes, coming to an abrupt halt at the red traffic signal. “Lena, I need you to do me a favor. Sit quietly and drink your water. Not another word until we get home. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured.
His cock jumped at the potent combination of the word “sir” and her teasing tone. And then she smiled, her face lit with sensual promise. That gleam in her blue eyes—how could a man see that and walk away from her? He had a feeling it would be burned into his memory. Hell, he might wait damn near forever to see it again.
His hands tightened around the wheel and his jaw clenched as he turned his attention back to the road. The streets were quiet, even for a Sunday night. If they’d hit traffic, he might have been tempted to break a few laws to get her home and into the studio apartment.
“You’re sure you haven’t had too much to drink? And yes, you can answer that.”
“I’m not drunk, Chad. I know what I’m doing, what I’m asking for,” she said, her hands holding tight to the plastic water bottle. “Worried I’ll stop you once you start giving the orders?”
He turned down his drive and sped toward home. Parking beside the barn, he faced her. “You can always stop me. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He caught another glimpse of that sexy glimmer in her eyes before she opened the truck door and stepped down. Struggling with his seat belt, Chad raced to catch up. He followed her inside and up the stairs, careful to give her space when he wanted to pull her close and freaking take her.
Inside the small studio, Lena led the reluctant golden retriever to the bathroom and closed the door. She turned around, her hands on her hips as she studied the wooden chairs by the two-person table, and judging from her gaze, found them lacking.
“Put your arms up like this,” she said, placing her hands behind her head.
“OK.” He obeyed, interlacing his fingers at the base of his neck. “But I thought I was giving the orders.”
“We’re not there yet,” she murmured. She lowered her arms and walked toward him, her blue eyes shining with determination.
Her fingers brushed his belt buckle. Working the leather free, she unbuttoned his pants. Her hand touched his skin and he groaned. Chad kept his eyes trained on her as she hooked her thumbs in his jeans and drew them down.
“There are Christmas trees and elves on your underwear,” she said without looking up.
“I was feeling festive this morning.”
Her fingers slipped beneath the elastic band. “Have you been a good boy?”
“That depends.”
Her hands moved to his low back, drawing his boxers down over his ass, her palms gliding across his skin. If she took one step closer, her body would be pressed against him. One step.
“Will I be rewarded for good behavior?” he asked.
“Maybe. But if you were bad . . .”
Her blue eyes widened as she stared at his cock. She’d abandoned project Remove His Boxers at his thighs, but he wasn’t complaining.
“This morning, I drank the last of the milk and put the carton back in the fridge,” he said. “Does that count?”