Lord, she turned him on in the fiercest way. He’d sensed the untamed passion in her the moment they’d met, experienced it that first night when he’d made love to her on the hallway floor, reveled in it the night she’d tied him up to her bed and devoured his body. She was full of surprises, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He loved her sass and her intelligence and her dry humor, the way she challenged him and aroused him and made him feel like more than just a hockey player.
“So what does the fantasy involve?” she asked, resting her hands on her bare hips.
He swept his gaze over her curvy body, trying to put his needs into words. He had no idea how the fantasy played out, only that his hands tingled with the urge to fondle her full, perky breasts and slip between her shapely legs.
The night breeze grew stronger, snaking into the gazebo and making his cock swell and thicken as the warm air caressed it. The wind also succeeded in hardening Hayden’s small, pink nipples, which were now standing up as if demanding his attention.
But instead of reaching out to touch her, he cleared his throat and said, “Lie down on the love seat.”
There was no objection. Her heels clacked against the floor as she walked over to the small couch and draped herself over the cushions. When she reached for the clasp on her right shoe he held up his hand. “Leave them on,” he ordered.
“Why do men always get turned-on by a naked woman in high heels?”
“Because it’s damn hot,” he replied with a roll of his eyes.
“So are you just going to stand there and watch me, or do you plan to join me?”
“Eventually.”
They were the same words they’d spoken to each other the night she’d admitted her taste for bondage, only this time he was the one in charge. He leaned against the railing of the gazebo and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve gotta give me some incentive, babe.”
“Hmm. Like this kind of incentive?” She slid her hands to her breasts.
His breath hitched when she squeezed the lush mounds with her palms, the motion making her tits look bigger, fuller. With an impish smile, she stroked the underside of each breast, circling her nipples with her fingers and then dragging her thumbs over each hard bud.
He almost fell over backward at the sight of Hayden fondling her own breasts. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow. He allowed her to play for a bit, then narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Spread your legs.”
She did, and his breath caught in his throat again. From where he stood he could see every tantalizing inch of her glistening sex. He wanted to lick those smooth pink folds, shove his tongue inside that sweet paradise and make Hayden scream with pleasure, but he held back. His erection throbbed as he curled his fingers over his shaft.
Making slow, lazy strokes to his cock, he gave her a heavy-lidded look and said, “Touch yourself.”
“Sure you don’t want to do that for me?” Her voice came out throaty, so full of unbridled lust he almost came on the spot.
“Humor me,” he squeezed out.
“It’s your fantasy.” She shrugged, grinned, and promptly lowered her hand between her legs.
Oh, man, this woman was incredible. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as she dragged her index finger down her slick folds and rubbed her swollen sex.
“That’s it,” he said hoarsely. “Get yourself nice and hot, Hayden.”
She replied with a soft whimper. Her cheeks grew flushed the more she kept stroking herself. The hazy look in her eyes told him she was close, but her fingers continued to avoid the one place he knew would drive her over the edge.
She lifted her hand. “Brody,” she murmured anxiously.
He chuckled. “Uh-uh. You won’t be getting any help from me.”
Agitation flickered in her eyes but still he remained on the other side of the gazebo. After a moment she gave a strangled groan and her hand returned between her thighs.
And then she came.
His hand froze over his erection. He was one dangerous stroke from a release he wasn’t ready for, but for the life of him he couldn’t tear his eyes from the gorgeous woman climaxing in front of him. Arching her back, Hayden cried out, moan after moan filling the warm night. Any neighbor by an open window could’ve heard her, but she didn’t seem to care, and neither did Brody. He was a professional hockey player; his neighbors probably expected female moans of ecstasy to drift out of his house.
He leaned back against the rail and relished every moment, from the contented sighs that slipped out of her throat to the way she’d spread her legs even wider, her heels still strapped to her feet.
When she finally grew still, he crooked his finger at her. Despite the sluggishly sated look in her eyes, she stumbled from the love seat and made her way over to him.