“There’s a problem with my panties.”
My brow knits. “What?”
“A big problem.”
“These panties were tested six ways to Sunday by the design team.” I shake my head. I can’t conceive of what possible problem there would be. The fit, the feel—everything looks like it’s made for her body. That’s what my team does. They make beautiful lingerie that hugs the woman who wears it.
The flicker of a smirk spreads on her face. “That’s not the problem.”
Chapter Twelve
CJ
He stares at me with worry in his blue eyes.
He’s going to learn he has nothing to worry about.
And I’m about to experience something wholly new for me.
Stepping into the role of a seductress.
I lean closer to him, my breasts dangerously near his face, my lips moving closer to his ear. A thrill races through me at what I’m about to do, and I can barely hear him over the heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I’m not climbing a mountain or diving out of a plane, but to me this feels the same. I’m letting go of my safety harness and stepping into the sexual unknown. So far, he’s directed me. He’s told me what to do. I’ve cherished him taking the lead, and I want him to keep doing so.
But for a moment, I want to hold the reins.
My lips reach his earlobe, and I nip ever so gently on it. He groans like an animal, and the sound electrifies me. “The problem is,” I whisper, “that they’re still on.”
His breath hisses, and he grunts my name like it’s a forbidden word. “CJ.”
And then I take the next leap, telling him what I want. “Take them off,” I whisper.
A growl is my reward, masculine and husky and so damn sexy. “You had me going, and look at you. You’re teasing the teacher, and I fucking love it.”
I want to shout it worked, it worked, but I’m too turned on to do anything but melt into his touch. I thought I was turned on the last time we were alone, but this is even more intense, like tiny electrical shocks are racing across my skin.
He hooks his fingers in the sides of my panties, and with a jerk, takes the reins again. I step out of the lingerie.
“Now spread your legs for me, Butterfly. Let me see you.”
Flushed all over and dizzy with desire, I weave my fingers into his hair, holding onto him for support as I part my trembling legs, widening my stance, grateful that once again he’s in charge.
“So sexy, so hot,” he says, gazing hungrily at my newly exposed skin. Then, without warning, he leans over, flicking his tongue over the seam of me, and my knees go boneless.
God, how can one simple touch of his tongue be so intense?
I feel it everywhere, absolutely everywhere as he licks me again, teasing and probing, exploring me until I truly can’t stand another moment. I gasp as my legs buckle.
“I’ve got you, baby.” He catches me, easily lifting me into his arms and carrying me to the fairy-tale bed.
When he lays me down on the smooth white sheets, my pulse spikes, anxiety rearing its terrified head as he kneels between my legs and runs his warm hands down my thighs. I’m naked as the day I was born, and he’s still fully dressed.
I blush at the inequity, my voice raspy as I ask, “What are you doing?”
“Finishing what I started,” he says, his hands hooking behind my knees.
I know what he means, and I want it—oh, God, how I want it—but it feels even more intimate like this, lying down and stripped bare, with nothing to hide behind and nowhere to run if things get too intense. “I don’t know if—”