Wrapped In Pleasure - Brenda Jackson [24]
She didn’t answer him. Instead she smiled saucily, as if she had scored a point. And he had to concede that she had. He wondered if she enjoyed seeing him sweat. He would remember just what she was putting him through when it was his turn to make his move. And when that time came he wouldn’t let her retreat. She had started this, and he damn well intended to see her finish it. He intended to teach her a thing or two about tempting a desert sheikh.
The CD he had been listening to stopped playing, and a lingering silence filled the room. She watched him and he watched her. Inside he smoldered, his body was heating to a feverish pitch and from the look on her face she was savoring every moment.
“Do you want me to put on some more music?” he asked, slowly standing, not caring that she could see his obvious masculine display.
After taking it all in, seeing how big he was, she just nodded, unable to respond. The look on her face gave him pause, and he couldn’t help but smile. Hell, what had she expected? Granted he’d been told by a number of women that he was very well endowed, but he thought surely she had seen a fully aroused male before.
Crossing the room he walked over to the CD player. “Is there anything in particular you would like to hear?” he asked huskily, in a quiet whisper. When she didn’t answer he glanced at her over his shoulder.
She shrugged. He saw the deep movement of her throat as she swallowed before responding. “No. Whatever you decide to play is fine.”
He picked up on her nervousness. Evidently, she didn’t have this game of hers down as pat as she thought she did. With five brothers she should have known that a woman didn’t stand a chance against a man with one thing on his mind. You play with fire, you got burned, and he was going to love scorching her in the process. By the time he lit her fire she would be ready to go up in smoke.
He put on Kenny G and it wasn’t long before the sound of the saxophone filled the room. He turned around slowly and walked over to the sofa toward her. Stalked over to the sofa was probably a better word. He intended to see just how much temptation she could take.
Coming to a stop in front of her he reached out his hand. “Would you like to dance?” He saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed deeply again. Her gaze held his and he knew she was giving his question some thought.
He had an idea what her response would be. She had started this and she intended to finish it. There was no way she would let him get the upper hand, even if it killed her. He smiled. He definitely didn’t want her dead. He wanted a live body underneath him tonight when he made her admit defeat.
She slowly slid off the sofa, bringing her body so close to his that his nostrils flared with her scent. “Yes, I’ll dance with you,” she said softly, taking the hand he offered.
He nodded and pulled her into his arms. They both let out a deep rush of breath when their bodies connected. He closed his eyes, forcing his body to remain calm. She felt good against him, and when she leaned closer he groaned.
Neither of them said a word, but he could hear her indrawn breath each and every time his erection came into contact with her midsection, which he intentionally made happen a lot.
As Kenny G skillfully played the sax, he masterfully began his seduction to prove to Miss Westmoreland that she couldn’t play with the big boys, no matter what her intent. When she rested her head against his chest, he opened his hand wide over her backside, cupping her to him as he slowed their movements even more.
He groaned again as he felt her lush bottom in his hand. He smoothly rubbed his hand over it, loving the way it felt. He decided not to speak. Words would only break the sensuous