He clenched his jaw so hard, even the muscles in his neck tightened. “What’s the real issue here? It’s not like you have something to do tonight.”
“Ethan, I don’t know what to do at high society functions.”
Frustration rose. She was lying to his face. They’d been together for several weeks now, and Kerri had always known exactly what to do, every action proper. Studying Emily Post for an afternoon wasn’t enough to give someone that kind of refinement. She’d grown up in a genteel moneyed background. “Are you ashamed of being seen with me?”
“What? No!” Her eyes grew as big as saucers. “Oh my god, Ethan, it’s not like that.” She rubbed her forehead, turned slightly away. “This is such a mistake. I was wrong, thinking everything would work out,” she said, low enough that it was slightly hard to hear her.
His insides grew cold at the resignation in her voice. “No, you didn’t. You can regret other things if you want, but not what we have.”
“But if you need a date for—”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“But—”
He went for the most effective way to shut her up: he kissed her.
There was an instant of resistance, then she melted against him, her mouth responsive and ready. It made up for a lot. Even if there was a problem being seen with him in public—he couldn’t imagine why—she wanted him.
He savaged her mouth, his teeth scraping her delicate lips. He wanted to mark her, for her lips to remain tender and pulsing all night long, so that every time they throbbed she’d remember this. Remember him.
He unzipped her dress and pushed it down her shoulders, down her trim torso and long legs. His hands ran over the beautiful curves and lean lines, then traveled up to her inner thighs, where she was sensitive and impossibly soft. He could feel the damp heat radiating from her core and wanted to shout with triumph and frustration.
This arrangement was supposed to be more than a job, and more than just sex.
It was also to ease his mind by keeping Kerri near him, not drive him insane as she seemed to drift further away.
He ripped her panties and threw the scraps on the floor. A tremor ran through her, and a low moan escaped her lips.
He teased her, his fingers caressing the creases where her pelvis met her thighs, but without touching her sex. He knelt and blew lightly over her curls, feeling her shudder, her muscles clenching with need.
He kissed her between her legs. She widened them, silently asking for more.
It wouldn’t work. She could be in need a little longer. He wanted her to scream his name over and over again by the time he was through. He wanted her so vocal she’d be hoarse afterwards.
His thumb touched her clit, just barely. She put her hands in his hair and angled her pelvis for more friction. He pulled back. “Tell me what you want.”
She swallowed, her slender throat working.
He ran his palm roughly over her beautifully curved butt, letting her know he was serious. His mouth pressed a kiss on her navel. Her stomach jumped at the contact. He ran his index fingers along her nether lips with just enough pressure to let her know she could have more if she’d just give in.
“Touch me,” she begged.
“Where?”
“My…”
His tongue caressed her inner thigh.
“My clit,” she said, her voice hitching.
He touched it perfunctorily with his thumb. “Like this?”
“Noooo,” she moaned.
“Be explicit.”
Her chest rose and fell. He wanted everything off her body so he could see her. “Take the bra off. And let your hair free.”