Tease Me (20 page)

He searched her face, not smiling in return. It was that continued wariness—something
she so closely identified with—that, more than anything else, began to tear down the
strongest of the walls she’d so diligently tried to build around her heart.

“Give us a chance, Lainey. We’ll take it slow and easy.”

She laughed, feeling suddenly more lighthearted and carefree than she had in … she
couldn’t remember.

“What?” he asked sincerely.

The heady rush of a decision made, a new path to be followed, filled her, and she
impulsively wrapped her arms around his waist and tugged his hips to hers. She moaned
instinctively as he pressed fully against her. “Well, that just proves my point.”

Heat flared in his eyes, and she had to stifle another gasp of pleasure when he refused
to let her loosen her grip. All wariness was gone. The confident predator had returned.
“Your point being?”

She thrilled to the low rumble of his voice, the promise that threaded through it.
There was no doubt he understood her point and then some, but she humored him, anyway.
“That no matter how hard we try to behave otherwise, there is nothing slow and easy
about either of us.”

He smiled now too. His smile was broad and gleaming,
and it invited her to share the pleasure that had inspired it. She felt the tension
drain from him, which strangely served to heighten the intensity. “I don’t suppose
there is,” he agreed. “But I could tell you that I’ll walk out of here right now,
agree to let you call the shots, set the pace, because I’m satisfied with the fact
that you’re giving us a chance. I could tell you that, and it would be the truth.”

“You could tell me that … but is that what you want to do?”

He held her gaze intently and slowly shook his head. “I want to seduce that mouth
of yours again. I want to start on your lips and work my way down until I’ve tasted
all of you. I want to torture both of us by slowly peeling away that dress you’re
wearing to find what’s underneath … then peel that away as well. I want to use my
mouth, my tongue, my teeth, my hands, my fingertips to explore every inch of you.”
He brought his mouth within a breath of hers. “And then I want to start all over again … and
again … and again … until we’re both ready to scream. Then and only then do I want
to enter you, push deep inside of you, until there is no part of me that hasn’t touched
every part of you.” His breath was hot and rapid. “That’s what I want to do, Lainey.
Right now. And tomorrow. And every moment of every day for as long as you’ll let me.
But you call the shots.”

Call the shots? Lainey could barely think coherently. “I, uh … We …” She tried to
clear her throat, but her heart was firmly lodged in it. No one had ever seduced her
so thoroughly or made her feel so wanted—and he’d yet to do more than kiss her. The
pictures his words painted, the pleasure they promised, the security she felt in his
arms …

“Your pace,” he said. He pressed a kiss on her cheek that was all the more erotic
for its sweet lightness. “Your decision.”

“No pressure or anything,” she managed, her wry intent lost on a soft moan as he pressed
another gentle kiss to the side of her chin.

“None,” he promised. “Unless you consider this”— he kissed her chin, the tip of her
nose, then each eyebrow—“pressure.”

“No, no.” She barely formed the words. “Not at all. Don’t … stop on my account.” He
kissed her temple, then slid his hands into her hair and tilted her head back so that
he could reach the base of her throat. “Please don’t stop.” Her breathing was little
more than shallow pants for air. “I’ll let you know what I decide in—” She stopped
on a sudden inhalation as his mouth dipped to the neckline of her dress and his thumbs
reached up to brush ever-so-lightly across her tightly beaded nipples. “A couple of
hours,” she said with a sigh.

“Hours,” he said, dipping his head in agreement. “Hours is good.”

“In … in the meantime,” she said, lifting her head as she drew in another breath,
“why don’t you take that big, heavy shirt off while I do something about this dress.”

Tucker chuckled, and Lainey thought she wouldn’t need to take her clothes off; if
he got her any hotter, they would melt.

“I think I said something about slow, torturous peeling.” He started to crouch, dragging
his mouth down over the front of her dress.

Lainey clutched the copier for support. “Slow, peeling, torturous.” She gasped. “Yes,
I believe you did. Oh,
God …” His mouth closed over one nipple, and she almost climaxed right then, the pleasure
so ferociously intense, it was almost painful.

“You have exquisitely sensitive nipples. I can’t wait to taste them.”

“Me either,” she croaked.

He shifted his mouth away and continued his slow journey. It was all she could do
not to clutch his head and drag it back up until she could feel the sweet weight of
his entire body on hers. As if he’d read her mind, he stood and pulled his white shirt
from his dark, pleated trousers.

She helped him.

“This doesn’t change anything, you know.” She popped buttons while he loosened his
belt and unclasped his pants.

“I know.”

He stopped what he was doing and cupped her neck, drawing her mouth to his for a quick,
hard, hot kiss. He pulled back far enough for her to look him in the eyes. “But when
you make your decision about me, about us, I want you to have as much information
as possible.” He pushed his shirt off his shoulders and let it slide to the floor,
then took her hands and placed them with firm deliberation on his beautifully molded
chest.

She pressed her fingertips into the smooth, taut skin. His skin was warm, almost hot
to the touch, the muscles firm and resilient under her searching fingertips.

“Inform yourself.” He flashed her a grin. “Please,” he added, then gasped when she
gently squeezed his erect nipples.

“Seems I’m not the only one who’s exquisitely sensitive,” she teased.

“Seems you’re not,” he ground out as she closed her
lips over one. “Oh … my … G—” The words ended on a long, growling exhale.

It was thrilling to know she could affect him the way he affected her. She was amazed
that the pleasure she derived from running her hands over him, touching him, tasting
him was as strong and satisfying as the pleasure she received from his touch.

Lainey knew, in some corner of her mind where she’d shoved what little rational thought
she still claimed to have, that she might very well live to regret the aftermath of
what she was about to do. But there was no way she’d ever regret the act itself. She’d
never forgive herself if she walked away right now. Of course, that was supposing
she could walk at all. She might not trust herself to handle things correctly afterward,
but she did trust Tucker. He understood what she’d meant when she said this wouldn’t
change anything. He wouldn’t mistake this for something it wasn’t. And neither would
she.

She slid her hands up over his shoulders and linked them behind his neck. “I never
knew education could be so … enlightening.”

Tucker leaned her back. “Enlightening and—” The copier beeped, startling them both,
then the top part of the machine grumbled to life and began to shift, making Lainey
yelp and jump forward, almost knocking Tucker off his feet. A blinding flash of light
followed as they righted themselves and Lainey turned to glare at the offending mood
breaker. Only it hadn’t broken the mood. Tucker pulled her back against his warm chest
and nuzzled at her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Let’s feed this thing
some paper and go be alone for a while.”

She knew she shouldn’t. She should have taken the
beep as a cosmic signal or something, but it felt too perfect in the circle of his
arms. She heard herself laugh softly. “Is this where I’m supposed to say your place
or mine?”

His chuckle was wickedly sexy. “Oh, I’m not letting you go. I have the perfect place
in mind.” He leaned over and scooped up the prospectus papers from where he’d dropped
them on Lillian’s desk, then reached around Lainey and laid the stack in the feeder
tray. He continued to nuzzle her and kept one arm around her waist as he punched the
correct buttons and started the process.

Distracted both by the copier’s beeping and whirring response and Tucker’s lips, Lainey
didn’t give much thought to where Tucker’s “perfect place” was … until he scooped
her up into his arms, surprising a squeal out of her.

“Put me down before you drop me. This isn’t the movies. I’m not one of those wraithlike
heroines.”

“No,” he agreed, as he shouldered her out the door into the hallway and started toward
the interior of the salon. “But then I don’t have to go that far.”

“You’re simply too chivalrous,” she said, but she was giggling. He didn’t carry her
as if she were a feather, but neither was he truly struggling. Her ego survived un-bruised … and
the rest of her was unabashedly thrilled by his rather cavemanlike behavior. She broke
off suddenly as she realized where he was headed. “You aren’t.”

“I am.” He shifted sideways and turned the knob to the massage room, then kicked the
door gently open.

“Tucker—”

“Shh.” He toed the door shut and a nightlight flickered on, casting a small glow that
left most of the room in heavy shadows. He walked to the linen-draped padded
table and put her down, urging her to stretch out. “Don’t go anywhere.” He walked
over to the small wheeled table she recognized as the one that held all the oils and
lotions. She heard the click of several switches. There was a sudden low hum, then
a soft orange glow emanated from the floor as a small ceramic heater purred warmth
into the room. Before she could sit up, he was back by her side.

“Roll over. Onto your stomach.”

“Tucker, you don’t need—”

“Oh, I need. Badly. Let me, Lainey. If you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

Oh, she had no doubt she’d be transported, but she was still achy and tingly, with
muscles clenching in odd places and an almost agitated need that begged her to do
something hot, hard, and fast to assuage it. The very last thing she really wanted
to do was stretch out and relax.

With gentle, confident hands he urged her onto her stomach. On a long sigh, as he
began to knead her shoulders, she complied.

He slid a folded velvety towel under her head. Something wasn’t completely right,
she thought dazedly. Oh, yeah. “My dress,” she murmured. “Shouldn’t you—”

“We’ll get there, Lainey.” He stepped to the foot of the table and slid her shoes
off. She wriggled her toes, then moaned as he took one bare foot in his hand and began
to slowly work his fingers along the sole of her foot. Somewhere, somehow, he’d rubbed
oil into his palms. They were warm, slick, and incredibly arousing. Who knew relaxing
could be so intensely erotic? The agitation she’d felt banked down to a low, constant
hum of need. She sank deeply into it, gave herself over to it—and
to the man who’d so perceptively stirred it to life within her.

“Right,” she agreed blissfully. “Slow. Torturous. How could I have forgotten?” She
groaned as he deeply rubbed first one foot, then the other. “This is too good to be
legal.”

Tucker chuckled and focused twice as hard on working slowly up to her calves. Touching
her this way, forcing restraint, was driving him insane. He was a breath away from
simply devouring her. Who’s stupid idea was it to go slowly? There was no denying
it was exquisite torture.

“You
are
a consenting adult,” he said, moving past the backs of her knees.

“I’m a begging-you-please adult.” The words were muffled against the towel. She’d
gone all languid and drowsy on him, but as his fingertips worked farther up her thighs,
he felt the tension thrum back into her muscles until she was almost quivering with
it.

He’d never been so close to exploding from merely touching a woman. He was climbing
out of his skin, and they were both still mostly dressed. He pushed at the hem of
her dress, nudging it higher and higher as he worked his fingers into the backs of
her thighs.

“An if-you-stop-now-I’ll-kill-you adult.”

“Mmm, an assault adult.” He slid his fingers along the inside of her thighs. “Maybe
we can focus all that … aggression.” His fingertips brushed silk. She groaned and
writhed under his touch. A hot lick of pleasure rushed over him. It took every scrap
of control he had to keep from climbing onto the table and burying himself inside
her right then and there.

“Who’s idea was this, anyway,” he grumbled. His tortured
tone made her laugh, then groan as the movement caused his fingers to brush over her
again. She was hot, and there was no mistaking she was ready for him. Scented oils
could not compete with scented Lainey.

As he moved to the side of the table, his hands never left her body. He pushed her
dress higher, exposing a hint of pale peach silky panties. He groaned. She writhed.
He was dying a slow, scented death. His control began to crumble as he nudged her
thighs farther apart and slid his fingers along the inside of the soft elastic.

“Tucker.” Her demand was part growl, part mindless need. He understood her perfectly.

He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, surprising a gasp out of her. She
lifted her head and turned to him. He took advantage of her parted lips … and her
parted legs.

Her response was everything he could have hoped for and then some. She reached up
and hooked his neck, pulled him closer, and returned his kiss with a power that left
him trembling. Her thighs clamped around his wrist as she moved under him, moaned
into him, came for him.

Her climax was raw, unabashed, and pure Lainey. He couldn’t stand it a moment longer.
He pulled her dress over her head even as she reached for his loosened belt buckle.
It wasn’t graceful, and they were both panting and half laughing by the time their
clothes landed in a heap on the floor.

“Highly unprofessional. You’ll never get your massage license now,” she said, smiling
up at him.