Jo Leigh - Seduce Me

He cleared his throat and she quickly forgot about the decor. It was showtime. The bedside lamp was turned on, and she had to decide if she was going to say something about that, or let it be.

Turning it off really would make her feel more comfortable.

Katniss wouldn’t turn off the lights.

Natalie wouldn’t, either.

He must have seen her determination, or maybe he just didn’t want to wait anymore. Before she’d even registered the move, her sleeves were sliding down her arms, along with her bra straps. Looking down, she was startled to find her breasts naked, her nipples hard and very there as her dress pooled at her waist, caught by her belt.

Max moaned as he cupped her breasts. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured. “I want to look at you. All of you.” He tackled her belt, which wasn’t much of a challenge, and she closed her eyes as her dress fell to the floor with a soft whoosh of fabric.

“Oh, Christ. Look at you. I never expected—”

She opened her eyes to find him staring, his lips parted in a very flattering way.

He stepped back until he was no longer touching her, then one more step so he could sit on the edge of his bed, as if looking at her made him lose his sense of balance.

She moved one foot back to take off her heels, and jumped at his, “No, wait. Please. Leave those on.”

He didn’t look as though he was kidding. Especially when he pressed his palm against his very obvious hard-on.

She’d wanted new experiences. This definitely met the criteria. She curled her right shoulder and knee, although it didn’t hide very much. Not that hiding was exactly what she wanted to do, but being stared at like that was kind of intimidating.

“Oh, I know where I’ve seen you before,” he said, his voice very low and rough. “On those World War II pinup posters, with your ruby lips and your luscious curves.”

She froze right there. Just stopped. Her? A pinup? She loved those women, those images, had one framed in her office. It was probably the dress that had done it. Or her hair. It was what she’d always wanted people to see, but they never did. Never had.

He was the wrong Max, and yet...

There was no longer any need to pretend to feel sexy. Because she was. Truly. Like Betty Grable or Marilyn Monroe. It was intoxicating. Freeing.

No one had ever looked at her that way, with his three undone buttons and his desire-darkened eyes, and she was going to revel in it.

He wanted a show, and she gave him one. Slow and naughty, with a soundtrack in her head and a sharp need to press her thighs together.

This night had been fantastic. Even if he didn’t give her an orgasm it was already the best ever. She owed a great big thank-you to whoever had messed up the trading card, because tonight, she was her own dream come true.

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