There he stood, in all his furious, egotistical, infuriating, absolutely sensual glory and not much else. A stark white towel knotted at his waist drew her eye away from his broad bare chest as he leaned against the hallway wall. The taut muscles hugging his bones practically begged for her watering mouth. His dark eyes flashed with anger and annoyance and something else…Lust. She saw it. Felt it. The sexual tension between them had threatened to ignite the air all evening. It crackled with heat, the fizzle of an impending storm they couldn’t outrun.

She hated him, but God, she wanted him. She wanted Marcus Dilson to sign with her firm, a new pair of Jimmy Choos and him. Wanted to taste him and feel him, ride him until they both couldn’t move. Their host was gone for the evening, the house empty except for him, her and the looming specter of frustrated longing. Stealing a few naked sweaty sessions pressed tight to him would be easy and no one would ever know. It could be the fulfillment of an erotic fantasy.

 

Her sigh nearly escaped her treacherous lips. If only he wasn’t such an asshole.

 

“Typical,” he snorted in disdain. “Women are always in the bathroom. I suppose you used all the hot water too?”

 

“Fuck you.” She raised her chin and walked past him to the guest room she had taken, her robe fluttering in her haste. The wine she had at dinner went to her head in flashes of bright white and blue as she pictured slamming the door in his gorgeous face. He turned, arrogantly not allowing her to have the last word as he had all night.

 

“You wish. And you’re not going to get Marcus’ account, I can promise you that. I’m the best man for that job. And that pisses you off, doesn’t it? Your problem is you need a real man. A good, solid fucking and your hard-ass attitude would be snuffed out.”

 

Good Hell, he has an ego. “Yeah, well, there’s only me and you here, asshole, and neither qualify as a real man.”

 

Was it possible for his eyes to get any deeper? Did brown go that rich before turning to black? His soft tone feathered over her as he stepped to the threshold, seductive jazz in a baritone “Deny it all you want. Tell me you haven’t been wet for me all night. You watched every move I made.”

 

“Really? And just who popped a hard-on when I was giving my demonstration?”

 

“You’re seeing things. You couldn’t turn me on with a switch and an instruction manual.”

Flipping him off in a so-not-a-lady manner, she flopped to the bed. She spotted a splotch of bright purple in her open overnight bag and an evil plan grew in her lust-crazed, alcohol-propelled mind. He was far too smug and needed brought down a peg or two or eight. She grabbed her vibrator with one hand and the tie to her robe with the other.

 

“Let’s test that theory, He-Man.”

 

Snapping on the tiny motor, she locked eyes with his in challenge. His pupils dilated as he drank in the sight of her exposing just scrubbed pink flesh. The frantic pulse visible in his temple was the only thing that moved as he froze in licentious shock. Instantly, he was hers to command, his lust a collar around his neck and her nakedness the chain.

 

She laid the smooth plastic along her jaw line and trailed it down her throat, past her collar bone where it nudged the fabric away from her bare breasts. Her skin vibrated beneath the buzz and her nipples stood hard and tight, begging for attention. She circled the tingling peaks, watching him watch her. Her breasts grew heavier and heavier until she could nearly feel his hands on them. Feel his hard calluses scraping her swollen achy mounds, fingering her tightly throbbing peaks. Lower and lower the sleek vibe dipped until it touched the gentle curve of her navel, all the while dragging his fevered gaze with it.

 

He was entranced. His nostrils flared with desire and his breath quickened as she pleased herself before his wide eyes. She grew drunk on the knowledge that he was watching her, watching her in the most private act and grew bold with that knowledge. The palm of her hand cradled his invisible but absolute rigid attention as she longed to cradle his cock.

 

A sigh whispered out. She closed her eyes, leaned back on the pillows and let the vibe trail to her thighs. Lost in her own fantasy world, she imagined him dropping the towel and coming to her. He would start at her neck with hot, sucking kisses which turned her bones to jelly. Raising her free hand, she played with her nipples, rolling them between her fingers and pinching them, just as she knew his mouth would. There was no gentleness in him and she granted herself none, tweaking her tips until they throbbed for him, distended and hard.

 

He would suck her breasts and stroke her aching clit with firm fingers so she slipped the buzzing vibe between her now wet and glistening lips. A jolt of pure joy shot through her and she moaned softly. Trembling thighs parted, welcoming his visual invasion and fantasy touch. While her mind saw him touching and licking her, the purple shaft danced along her clit, teasing it to pulsating ripeness. Soon her breath came in quick little pants and her moans turned to whimpers. It wasn’t his tongue but it would have to do.

 

Her clit pulsated so hard each bump of the vibrator mimicked a mini orgasm. Opening her eyes, she could see his gaze had followed the now juice-coated vibe. The sparse sprinkling of ebony hair across his chest heaved with each excited breath and the white towel bulged. A swallow worked the cords in his neck. Along his top lip, the tongue she longed for skated quickly as if tasting her. A shudder gripped her muscles.

 

Slowly, watching him, she raised the whirling plastic away from her clit and brought it to her lips. Using her tongue, she slowly licked her own taste from the vibe as she would his hard cock in another reality. Mouth falling open, he sucked in a noisy breath and his rigid shaft stood at full attention, jutting from between the folds of his towel.

Once again she returned the vibe to her heated cleft, increasing the speed ever so slightly. Her gaze lasered on his cock. How thick he was. Her folds trembled in imagined bliss, aching to stretch around him. Her climax approached rapidly. She squeezed her nipples a bit harder and rubbed against the vibe a little faster. So close, she was so close. But she wanted, needed him to climb with her.

 

Then she saw. He stroked himself, watching her with wide captivated eyes. Without a touch, she dominated his body. Power flooded her mouth with spiced-wine richness. It was intoxicating. Knowing he was in her total control was the push she needed to crest over that ledge, the final precipice of solitary pleasure. She gave into the pounding orgasm that rushed through her body, her hips vaulting off the bed.

 

Her eyesight dimmed and her ears rang with the force of her climax. The last conscious thought before pleasure engulfed her was vengeance and she called out his name in a fractured breathless wail. Growling a long, guttural tone, he came with her, from ten feet away, sending his seed in a long, high arc to the floor. It pushed her orgasm even higher, stratosphere high and she screamed in total abandonment.

 

The last feminine tremor died away with a mewled whimper as she collapsed back to the mattress. His breath sang loud through the summer night, ragged, frayed and longing. Sucking in a deep cleansing breath and pushing quivering muscles from the comforter, she strolled to the doorway with an inviting smile. The robe fluttered behind her, his gaze soaking in her flushed skin with heat and promise. Dazed and depleted, he gasped in his own recovery, swallowing unspoken cries she tasted in the air. Lips puckered into a sultry pout, she leaned close, the rich scent of his passion filling her nose. His head dropped, lips parting to meet hers.

 

With a click of her tongue, she laughed. “Sometimes the best man for a job is a woman who owns rechargeable batteries.”

 

Smirk firmly fixed, she slammed the door shut in his face. Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

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