Maureen Child - The Highest Bidder

She laughed, feeling a rush of pure, feminine power at his confession. Reaching up, she pulled at his dark red tie, loosening the knot, then slid it free of his collar. “How? What have I been doing?”

“Your hair,” he admitted, tearing off the clip she wore so her long hair spilled down around her shoulders and lifted in the wind. “I’ve been wanting to see your hair down since that first day I saw you. It was worth the wait.”

She shook her hair back from her face and looked into his eyes. “My hair’s been making you crazy?”

“And those shoes you wear,” he said, undoing the buttons of the simple white blouse she wore tucked into the waistband of a slim-fitting gray skirt.

Confused, she said, “My shoes?”

“God, yes,” he said, pausing to take a look down at the plain, black pumps. “What they do to your legs should be illegal.”

“Really?” she asked, ridiculously pleased.

“Really.” He shook his head and gave her a quick grin. “I’m thinking of having them bronzed.”

She laughed, delighted, and felt suddenly more carefree, more alive than she’d felt in years.

“Sure, you can laugh. I’m the one suffering, watching you walk across the office …” He shook his head again in memory, then he finished unbuttoning her shirt and pulled the tail of it free of her skirt. He swept the edges of the material back to expose the lacy bra covering her generous breasts.

He took a quick breath and exhaled just as fast. “You’re amazing.”

Her fingers worked at the buttons on his shirt, too, her skin heating not just from his compliment, but from the intensity of his gaze, as well. She felt it as she would a touch. He looked at her with such … hunger, such need, that she swore she could feel actual flames licking at her insides.

Charlie wanted to see him, too. Wanted to run her fingers over his skin and feel the warmth of his flesh beneath hers. He stood still under her touch and once his shirt was unbuttoned, she laid her palms flat on his broad chest and smoothed her fingers through the thatch of dark hair dusting his skin. He hissed in a breath and she knew he was as susceptible to her touch as she was to his.

“Can’t wait another minute, Charlie. We’ve already waited long enough. I’ve got to have you.”

“Yes, Vance. Oh, yes,” she said. This, she told herself, had been inevitable. From the first moment she had walked into his office as his new assistant. They had always been headed directly to this moment.

She felt beautiful and desired and so ready.

Charlie lifted her hands to the front clasp of her bra—then stopped and looked around. Broad daylight. Outside. Okay, maybe no one could see them but for passing planes and the occasional bird, but … “Maybe inside would be better.”

“What?” He looked around much as she had. “Oh. Yeah.” He choked out a laugh. “I actually forgot where we were. What do you do to me, woman? I’m always on top of things. Never lose focus. But with you—” He huffed out an exasperated breath and reached for her. Bending, he hooked one arm behind her knees and the other around her back and lifted her right off her feet.

“Vance!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. Laughing up into his eyes, she said, “I can walk, you know.”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug, “but this way, I get to keep my hands on you.”

“Can’t argue with that,” she said as he headed back inside.

His legs were long and his pace was brisk. He carried her through the penthouse into the master bedroom so quickly, it was only seconds before Charlie dropped onto his bed and lay there, looking up at him.

Nerves jangled inside her, but she quieted them. If this was a mistake, then she was going into it with her eyes wide open. Even if she regretted being with Vance one day, in this moment, she was reveling in it.

Shaking his head slowly, he let his gaze wander over her thoroughly. “I can’t tell you how many nights I imagined you lying here just like this.”

Charlie smiled. She liked knowing that she’d been in his thoughts as much as he had been in hers. “In your dreams I was fully clothed?”

One corner of his mouth tipped up briefly, but it wasn’t humor shining in his eyes, it was hunger . For her .

“Nope,” he said. “All you were wearing were those shoes and a satisfied smile.”

A curl of something wickedly exciting started in the pit of Charlie’s stomach and spread like a wildfire, rushing through her veins, making her skin feel tight and hot. She’d never felt anything like this before and she was suddenly eager to feel so much more.

Keeping her eyes on his, she wiggled out of her skirt and kicked it off. His eyes flashed as she sat up to take off her shirt and toss it to the floor, too. Then she was wearing only her white lace bra, matching panties and the shoes he seemed to have such a fondness for.

“Well, don’t stop now,” he said, voice sounding strangled.

Muted sunlight slanted in through the glass wall behind him, throwing his features into shadow as he stood so still, watching her. But even in the dim light, his eyes blazed with such ferocity, it took her breath away.

With him watching her like a starving man eyeing a feast, Charlie slowly unhooked her bra, then slid it off her shoulders, baring her breasts to him. As the cool air in the room kissed her heated skin, she felt ripples of gooseflesh course over her body. But it wasn’t just the air. It was Vance’s gaze that gave her chills. She was both embarrassed by her nudity—hello, she had had a baby and wasn’t quite as toned as she used to be—and excited, an interesting combination that had her heart throttling into high gear and turning every breath into a hard-won battle.

She lay exposed to his gaze but for the panties she still wore. But when she hooked her fingers under the elastic band, he stopped her.

“No, don’t,” he said, his voice still that low thrum of need and hunger that filled her with so many different sensations she couldn’t even sort them all out. “Let me.”

While she watched breathlessly, he tore off his clothes. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Even in the backlight of the sun, he was amazing. His chest was broad and muscled, his legs were long and lean and his—She swallowed hard and lifted her gaze to his.

“No more waiting, Charlie,” he murmured and she nodded, lifting her arms up to him.

Like him, she was done waiting. She wanted to feel. Wanted to be held and touched. By Vance.

He joined her on the bed and his heated skin was a counterpoint to the cool silk of the duvet sliding against her. Cupping her breasts in his palms, his thumbs and forefingers tweaked her rigid, so-sensitive nipples, until a moan ripped from her throat.

Then his hands shifted, moving over her body with an expert’s touch. As if he were playing her, he coaxed a symphony of sighs and groans from her. He explored every curve, every valley; he slid one hand down the length of her, across her abdomen, down to the narrow elastic band riding low on her hips.

Charlie sucked in a gulp of air. “Vance …”

Dipping his hand beneath that tiny swatch of lace covering the juncture of her thighs, he cupped her heat in his palm, making her twist and writhe beneath him as she ached for more.

“Please,” she whispered and didn’t care that she sounded desperate. She was desperate. For his touch. For the orgasm she felt couched inside, ready to crash down on her body and splinter her into shards of trembling release. “Vance, please … ”

He turned his head and looked down into her eyes. Smiling now, he whispered, “Not yet, Charlie. I’m gonna make you want me as badly as I want you.”