She dropped her purse to the floor, crossed her arms over her chest, and grasped the bottom of her shirt. “You sure you won’t feel anything?”
Holy shit. “Yeah.”
Her fingers gathered the edge, pulling it up until a strip of smooth white skin showed just above her jeans resting on her hips. “Still not feeling anything?”
Ty had been playing in the NHL for more than fifteen years now. He knew a thing or two about putting on his game face. “Not a thing.” To prove his point, he yawned. Which was difficult considering he had a hard time breathing.
She laughed, a soft seductive little chuckle as she pulled the shirt up past her little belly button, pierced with a pink jewel. “Nothing?”
The blood rushed from his head to his crotch and he fought the urge to fall to his knees and press his open mouth against her smooth belly. “Sorry, Mrs. Duffy.” Then he told the biggest whopper of the day. “You’re just not that attractive.”
She raised the bottom of the T-shirt further up her slim ribs. “You don’t think so?”
“No.”
“A lot of men have told me I’m beautiful.”
“A lot of men lie to get women naked.” The shirt rose a few stingy inches.
“Even women they’re not attracted to?”
His gaze took in her smooth belly as she pulled the shirt up just past the pink satin cupping the bottoms of her breasts. “Depends.”
“On?”
“If it’s after midnight and the bar’s about to close.” He held his breath, waiting for more. “A lot of people get more attractive at closing time. But I’ve never been the kind of guy to go ugly just to get laid. You could probably come over here and give me a lap dance right now and I’d just go ahead and fall asleep.”
Her little chuckle became deeper as if she could read his mind and knew he was lying. “I haven’t given a lap dance since I quit Aphrodite years ago, but I imagine it’s like riding a bike.” She gathered the shirt in one hand and slid a slow, deliberate palm across her bare belly. “I guarantee that you wouldn’t fall asleep.” There was something sinful and hot about a woman touching herself. “Within seconds you’d be whimpering like a baby and begging for mercy.”
“That’s a bold statement, Mrs. Duffy.”
“Just stating a fact, Mr. Savage.” Her little finger skimmed the top of her waistband and dipped below the top button. “You feelin’ sleepy yet?”
“Keep going. I’ll let you know.”
The tip of her ring finger followed her pinky beneath her waistband. “Bored?”
“Gettin’ there.”
“Wait.” Her hand stopped along with his heart. “Wouldn’t a lap dance be considered inappropriate behavior?”
Hell no!
She laughed and dropped her shirt. “And just after we said it wouldn’t happen anymore.”
His hands grasped the edge of the table to keep from reaching for her. From grabbing the waistband of her jeans and pulling her to him until she stood between his thighs, close enough to touch. He wanted to tell her she could behave inappro priately all she wanted. Anywhere. His bed came to mind, but the look in her clear, almost calculating eyes stopped him. While she’d just turned him inside out and upside down, she felt nothing.
She reached for her purse. “Are we going to be able to forget this happened, too?”
“Not a problem.” With his dick throbbing against his inner thigh, he said, “I’ve already forgotten.”
She moved toward the door but turned and looked at him over her shoulder. “Me too. You’re not the only one who was bored.” The door swung open before she reached it and her assistant stepped inside. “What’s up, Jules?” she asked.
Jules looked from her to Ty. “I just came to let you know that I set up a meeting next week with the director of the Chinooks Foundation.”
“Sounds good.” She adjusted the purse on her shoulder and looked at Ty one last time. “See you around, Mr. Savage.”
Jules watched her leave, then asked, “Is there something going on between you and Faith?”