Lucy Monroe - Satisfaction Guaranteed

Beth grinned. “You tell him, Vito. Besides, I’m not stubborn. I don’t know where he gets the idea that I am.” She batted her long dark lashes at him and the old Italian beamed, eating up this flirtatious side to the quiet little admin.

Who damn well was stubborn. Very. His mama would love her. So would his sister. His daddy would say to steer clear unless he wanted to end up roped and hog-tied. He frowned. Not bad advice.

“Now you glare at her? This sweet thing. What could she have done?”

“Nothing. Honest.” Beth smiled coquettishly. “He’s a little upset because I think he’s a poor prospect for a long-term relationship like marriage. He thinks jumping out of airplanes and forgetting to pull the rip cord on his parachute until the last minute is entertainment. I have my own ideas about how to pass the time.”

She said it so suggestively Ethan almost choked on his wine. This vixen was not the shy, but stubborn little secretary he was used to dealing with.

Vito was shaking his head again. “There is nothing romantic about jumping out of an airplane, but he did bring you here for dinner.”

“That’s true,” Beth mused provocatively. “I suppose I’ll have to give him marks for some level of romanticism.”

“That is good, no?” Vito placed their dinners on the table before leaving to greet another obviously well-known customer at the door.

“I can be as romantic as the next man, but this is not a real date, or had you forgotten?”

“My memory is just fine, thanks.”

“Then what was all that stuff you spouted at Vito? I never said I wanted to marry you.” He realized how ridiculous he sounded only when the words were out of his mouth.

He was coming off like a defensive kid who was not confident of his ability with women so had to tell her what a great guy he was.

She laughed, the sound warm and filled with amusement. At his expense. “Would you prefer I told him that our get-to-know-you session for the sake of the case was getting too intense?”

“Of course not.”

“He thinks we’re on a date, so I acted like I was on a date.”

“Then I pity the poor man you actually deign to allow yourself to go out with.”

“Do you?”

Hell no. He envied him…the date and the pink handcuffs.

He was envying a lot more later that evening as he poked through Beth’s closet and drawers. Okay, so he’d guessed she wore sexy undergarments, but damn…he hadn’t expected anything this hot. She had lacy thongs and see-through bikini briefs and bras that were nothing more than a couple of bits of silk. The demibras killed him. He’d picked one up and his hand had actually shaken.

He had a real thing for that particular piece of lingerie…the way it held a woman’s breasts up and left the nipples bare, as if they were waiting to be touched and played with. He couldn’t help wondering what kind of breasts she had. Were they perky? Or a little heavy? Cone shaped or round? Did she have big nipples or small ones…dark or light?

Her skin was pale, but her hair and eyes were dark…it could go either way. Did she like having her breasts and her nipples touched, suckled…bitten? He was aching to find out.

Her clothes were a revelation, too. He’d seen the office gear she wore to work, but she had a rack of filmy, feminine dresses that made his mouth water. Thinking of her in them, worn over some of the more risqué lingerie, sent another surge of blood rushing to his groin. It was all he could do to stifle a groan of pure male hunger.

He’d never done this before, going through a woman’s closet. He’d sure as heck never considered doing so could be such a turn-on, but picturing Beth in the clothes-or partway out of them-was making his dick hard as a rock and his brain short-circuit.

“Are you about done?”

He didn’t have to look at her to know what he’d see. She’d taken off her heels but left her stockings on and was sitting on the edge of her bed. One leg swung gently while she had the other lifted so she could lean her head on her knee. Dark brown eyes watched him with mysterious thoughts that he’d give his spot on the next bungee jump for.

Despite the fact that her skirt was short and her leg was lifted, nothing showed. She’d made sure of that with a quick tug on the hem of her flowy skirt, but if she moved just a little bit, he would be able to see her panties. He was killing himself wondering what type she was wearing and how much else he would be able to see. If she moved her leg just a half an inch to the side.

Had she done so already? That was another thought that was tormenting him.

He turned to face her, to see. He made no effort to hide his erection. If she was looking below the waist, she was going to see the effect going through her closet and dresser had had on him.

But her doe-brown eyes were trained on his face and he wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or disappointed by that fact.

“Yeah…I’m done. In here. I’d like to look over the rest of your apartment some more.”

“Okay.”

“Tomorrow night you can come to my place for dinner and do your own reconnaissance.”

She bit her lip and damn if he didn’t want to help her out with that little habit. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“Yes.”

She sighed…and shifted. And he got his wish. She was wearing black panties. Not a thong. They were sheer, but not at the crotch. There was a small dark splotch right in the center. She was wet. So wet that she’d soaked through her panties. His knees nearly buckled. His dick had been hard. Now it throbbed. He was not going to make it out of the apartment without at least kissing her.

But what he really wanted was to bury his face in that little bit of silk and take in her scent and her taste until he was drowning in both.

She gasped and he realized she’d just become aware of where he was looking.

She didn’t move though. Or say anything.

“You’re wet,” he ground out.

“You’re hard.”

“I wondered if you’d notice.”

“It would be impossible to miss.”

Primitive male pride filled him. He was no monster, but he was big enough. And from the tone of her voice, she liked that…and was a little awed by it. Good. He liked that.

Their gazes met…locked.

“I would have expected you to be more sophisticated in your tastes.” She was probably trying to sound caustic, but her voice was too breathy for that.

He smiled. “What do you mean?”

She licked her lips. Nervous…or excited? “I’ve never seen you as the type of man to get his jollies from looking at a woman’s underwear.”

“I didn’t get my jollies, I got a hard-on, and it wasn’t the little bits of fabric you call underwear that turned me on. It was the image of you in them.”

“Oh.” Her leg moved a little more and her skirt slipped, showing her stocking top, the smooth, pale skin of her thigh, and the dark curls of her mound through the sheer fabric of her panties.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of her arousal turning his up another notch. “What about you?”

“I haven’t seen your underwear,” she whispered.

And that added to his excitement. Hell…everything about her did that. “Want to?”

“Yes…no…this is a bad idea.”

He didn’t agree. He undid his pants and slid them down his thighs. His cock sprang free. The air brushed against him like a caress. It felt good, but not as good as she would feel.

This time she moaned…a tiny sound that nearly obliterated his control. “You aren’t wearing any.”

“I like commando.”

“I can see that.”

“Now, tell me why you’re so wet you’ve soaked your panties.”

“It’s not a new thing around you,” she admitted with a choked laugh.