Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
I drank a Scotch here with Sean after we signed a lease on a new office space for Adored, courtesy of our stocks selling for more than we ever dreamed and our company expanding.
I had a martini with Luna here the night before her wedding and talked about what it meant to forsake all others, and how scary that was for her, even though she couldn’t imagine spending her life with anyone but Valerie.
Hell, I treated CJ to Sunday morning mimosas here on her twenty-fifth birthday not quite a year ago, back when she was just a friend I was proud to see becoming a strong, successful woman in spite of the hell she’d been through the year before.
It had seemed only natural to suggest we meet here in this luxurious, classy place where I come to celebrate. These lessons feel like something worth celebrating, and I would be telling dirty, filthy lies if I said I hadn’t been looking for a good excuse to rent out the Tiffany suite.
CJ is going to look fucking stunning framed by crystal chandeliers, priceless works of art, and Tiffany-blue walls, wearing nothing but Adored’s signature Madison Avenue corset, garter belt, and white silk stockings . . .
A moment later, as if summoned by my oh-so appreciative thoughts, a sweet voice calls out from the entrance to the bar. I turn on my stool to see CJ bustling toward me in a sexy little black dress—I’m a sucker for a demure collar and a hemline barely long enough to cover a woman’s ass—and four-inch heels that prompt erotic visions of her in those and nothing else.
“Hey there,” she says, pressing a breathless kiss to my cheek and pulling away with a flustered smile. She drops her black jacket on the chair next to me. “Sorry. Am I late?”
My breath catches as I spy a glimpse of lacy corset through the peek-a-boo paisley eyelets sewn into the bodice of her dress. That tiny window is even sexier than a view straight down the front of her shirt. It hints at things concealed under her clothes, things she’s going to share only with me. Like the corset I sent her yesterday, the one I chose just for her. All I can picture is how enticing it’ll look against her skin.
Then, how much better it’ll look on the floor of the hotel room.
“No, you’re good. I’m just early,” I say, fighting what feels like my fiftieth CJ-inspired erection of the day.
“Early,” she echoes, her eyes going wide. “Is this a first for you? I mean, I know you’re always on time to work, but in a social setting, isn’t five minutes late your modus operandi?”
“No,” I lie, then immediately fess up because lying to CJ feels wrong. “Okay, maybe, but I don’t believe in keeping my students waiting. Especially my favorite students.”
Her lashes sweep down and back up, and a smile that’s pure sex kitten curves her lips. “I believe I’m your only student, Professor.”
“You can be both my only and my favorite, Miss Murphy,” I say, losing the battle against the thickening situation in my pants. But seriously, there’s only so much a man can take.
She reaches up, her fingertips skimming over the skin exposed by my open collar. “What are you teaching me tonight? I came dressed as requested.”
“I saw that,” I say, then nod toward the bar. “You want a drink before we head upstairs?”
She shakes her head. “No, but an answer would be nice.”
I grin wickedly, not even bothering trying to hide it as I take her hand, drawing her out of the bar toward the elevator, her jacket over her arm. “Why? Nervous?”
She laughs. “No. Should I be?”
“Liar,” I whisper as the elevator doors close behind us and I draw her mouth toward mine. And damn, if she doesn’t taste even better than she did two nights ago. She responds with a hunger that drives me wild, her arms wrapping around my neck as she boldly pulls me closer. She presses her curves against my chest with a soft moan, clearly wanting more, much more.
Taking lesson two slow is going to be a Herculean test of will, but I’m up for the challenge.
“Okay, so maybe I’m a little nervous,” she murmurs as my lips roam over her jaw, finding the flesh of her earlobe. She’s wearing little diamond earrings shaped like bow-ties, beautiful and delicate, just like her.
“Don’t be.” I take the entire lobe into my mouth, tasting the warmth of her perfumed skin melding with the cold stone of the gem for a moment before I set her free. “You’re dressed for success.”
She shivers lightly against me, her lips parting, but before she can speak, the doors open and she falls silent.
“Seriously, nothing to worry about,” I assure her, wondering if I shouldn’t have ambushed her the way I did the first time. But sooner or later, she’s going to have to learn to take the wheel. Might as well begin as she’ll need to continue.