I narrow my eyes at him and smile fiendishly.
“Just like you’re about to be.”
I turn and walk away, even though I can pretty much feel it physically hurting every fiber of my being to tear my eyes away from that perfectly shaped, rock-hard, foot-long dick. It’s a stripper sort of walk: each foot falling directly in front of the other to emphasize the way my hips sway as I leave him behind.
“That’s clever of you,” Darcy calls out after me. “You know how attractive you look upright and in motion.”
I stop and look at him over my shoulder with sexy, hooded eyes that my fans always lose their collective shit—and their collective pay checks—over.
“If you liked that, then you’ll love this,” I say, and then I’m bent over, legs spread, back arched.
I know that from this angle, he can see just about everything—everything except for what he really wants. My shorts are short enough that the ragged hem outlines the curves of my ass cheeks perfectly. They’re just big enough that the gap between my thighs leaves little to the imagination.
Just enough to drive him wild.
“Are you pumping that huge cock of yours yet?” I ask.
Unable to help myself, I take a peek between my legs and sigh breathily.
I thought his dick was looking good right side up. Somehow, it’s even better upside down. Better yet, he’s pumping it, nice and slow, to the sight of my body, bent over in front of him.
Oh god. That’s hot. That’s way too hot.
My fingers brush up my inner thighs, and I know he’s imagining that my hands are his hands right now. Touching me softly, softly, and then—rough. Hard. Like something he owns.
My fingertips slide over the tiny strip of fabric that’s currently covering my pussy. Darcy likes that. He moans in pleasure while he watches.
Then, I steal my fingertips away, and he’s moaning in disappointment.
“You fucking tease,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse, like his throat has just gone dead dry. “I’ll make you pay for that, Lizzie.”
“I thought you were the one who likes to pay for it, Darcy.” I arch my back as I straighten again and look at him coyly over my shoulder.
“Or is this the part where you tell me I’m not like all those escorts you like to fuck?”
“You’re not,” he says.
I think of the poor girl he told to fuck off, so he could work his cock to the sight of my body and feel my heart flutter with excitement. There’s something so wrong about that, but I fucking love it anyway.
Stealing him away from another woman. A woman he paid to get him off. I bet she was hot, too. Darcy’s not the type to settle for anything less. That makes it even better.
Darcy had a warm, sexy mouth there for the taking, and he came watching me instead.
“No,” I say, turning to face him. “I’m not.”
One step forward, and I’m unbuttoning my shorts. Another and I’m unzipping them. By the third step, they’re working their way down my thighs, and by the fourth they’re practically around my ankles.
I walk right out of them and into Darcy’s eager arms.
Or, should I say, arm? I have to give the man some credit. As much as he wants to touch me, he doesn’t let go of his massive cock, either. I consider taking it from him, but—no. He can have his pleasure when he earns it.
And I’m going to love making him earn it.
I climb up onto the desk chair with him and straddle his lap. I made sure to order it extra wide so I’d have plenty of space to work with if I wanted to use it for one of my shows. Now, it’s being put to much better use.
If I wanted, I could lower myself down onto Darcy’s throbbing cock right now. Swallow him up with my pussy and leave him gasping for more.
Instead, like he’s reading my mind, Darcy slips his fingers beneath the thin fabric of my thong and flicks them between my pussy lips.