Fighting Dirty

Enjoying her embarrassment, Armie teased, “Want me to take a picture for you?”

She gasped, Armie laughed, and for a second or two they wrestled.

When they stopped, Armie had her bra undone. “Well, look at that,” he said. “Your bra unhooked.” He tugged the material away.

“Armie!” She crisscrossed her arms and closed her hands over herself.

With one finger, he traced the pale flesh plumped up above her concealing hands. “I love watching a woman touch herself.”

Her eyes went wide. “I’m not!”

“Then move your hands.” He kissed her knuckles. “Let me look.”

Seeming momentarily shy, then determined, her gaze locked with his and she slowly rested her hands at either side of her pillow, palms up.

Armie inhaled deeply. “Beautiful.” Her breasts were round and firm, her nipples a dusky brown, drawn tight, and he wanted her in his mouth. “Tell me you can keep this, what’s between us, private.”

Her eyes went heavy, sexy. “An illicit affair with the notorious Armie Jacobson? Sure, I can do that.”

He started to lean down and she added, “There’s something you need to understand.”

By the second, his need ratcheted up. “Let’s hear it.”

“It can’t be just once.”

“Guaranteed.”

She flattened a hand to his chest, holding him off. “I don’t mean just once tonight. I mean I want tomorrow, too.”

“Count me in.”

Again she held him off, this time with both hands. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I know you have a fight soon—”

“Wouldn’t matter if the fight was tomorrow. I’m done denying myself.”

“Well then, as long as we’re having this illicit affair, it’s just me, no other woman.”

She was so adorable. Like he’d want any other woman with her near? Hell, it felt like he’d been waiting forever for this. “You’re saying you don’t want a threesome?”

“Not unless you’re talking another guy.”

He went blank, then hot with a rush of anger, then...he saw her grin. His damn palms were damp, his heart galloping. Jesus.

“That,” he growled, “might earn you another swat.”

“So we agree that’s out.”

He pretended to think about it. “So no spanking, no threesomes. Tell me then, what are you into?”

“You.” She hooked her arms around his neck. “I’m into you, Armie.”

For some reason, that spooked him a little. He was known for outrageous sex. Wicked, kinky, sometimes taboo sex. Women chased him down for it. For the sex, not necessarily for him.

Didn’t bother him; he always aimed to please.

More than any other, he wanted to please Merissa.

“You can have me.” He kissed her again, this time not so sweetly. She opened for his tongue, teased her own against his, pressed closer and gave a soft moan. Against her lips, he whispered, “Don’t be shy, honey. Tell me what you like.”

Eyes heavy-lidded, lips swollen, she nodded, then looked around the bedroom. Tipping her head back, she let her gaze zero in on the Velcro tie at the headboard post. “I guess, if you really want, you could tie me up?”

He frowned over how she’d put that, like a question instead of a statement. “You’d like that?” He sure as hell didn’t want to do anything to her she didn’t like.

She nodded at the post where the tie was fastened. “I’m guessing you do, right? You use that to fasten around a woman’s wrist?”

Smiling, he pressed closer to her. “These,” he said, reaching up to the middle post to flip the double-hanging Velcro cuffs, “are for her hands.”

Confusion beetled her brows. She studied the soft ties in the middle of the headboard, then the other ties at the outside posts. “So then those...?”

“Are for her ankles.”

Her eyes went comically wide. She rounded on him. “No,” she whispered.

Armie took great pleasure in saying, “Yeah. It leaves her vulnerable, as you can imagine, and has the added bonus of giving me a lot to look at.”

“I’m not into that, either!”

She was so damn funny, he couldn’t resist teasing her. “Oh, I dunno, Stretch.” He gathered both her wrists into one hand and held them over her head, then stroked down her side to her hip, and into the back of those tiny lace panties. “You’d look awfully sweet spread-eagle—”

She squirmed, then gasped when his fingers brushed along her cleft. “Ain’t happening, Armie!”

“Why not? You brought it up.” He held her secure when she tried to twist away. Kissing her jaw, her ear, he whispered, “I love your ass.”

“You can love it untied!”

He laughed. “Okay, don’t get riled. We’ll put that on the back burner for now.”

She settled down with a few deep breaths. After searching his face, she said, “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” He looked at her breasts and was amazed at his own restraint. “Let’s hear it.”

“I think it’s pretty different, at least for you.”

His cock swelled more. “Okay.”

She tugged at her hands so he released her, then she again pushed him to his back. Crawling half over him, her hands at either side of his face, she smiled. “Tonight, how about you tell me what you like, and I’ll take it from there.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

MERISSA LIKED THE stunned look on Armie’s face. Wasn’t often she could take him off guard.

She watched him gather his wits, saw his eyes narrow, and then he reached for her breasts. “I’ll like making you come.”

“I’m sure I’ll like that, too.” She didn’t dissuade him from touching her. Heck no. She’d craved his touch for so long she couldn’t deny him now even if she wanted to. “But do you like this? Touching me?”

Voice gravelly and deep, he said, “I love touching you.”

“I think you’d like me touching you, also. Right?”

He went still. “Yeah.”

“Could we get naked first?”

His chest expanded. His gaze burned over her. “Yeah. Naked is good.”

Merissa usually felt a little insecure about her figure. She was long and lean, lacking lush curves, especially on top. But the way Armie looked at her, with so much palpable lust, she knew he liked what he saw and that made her feel sexy. She moved off the bed, smiled at him and skimmed her panties down.

Slowly, he sat up, his gaze consuming her. In a near growl, he murmured, “Come here.”

She walked over to him—but when he reached for her, she took his hands and urged him to his feet.

“I want to see you, too, Armie.” She didn’t wait for him to remove the boxers. She did it for him, stepping close and coasting her hands over his broad chest and his hard back, and then down until she had both hands over his muscled tush.

Sinking to her knees, she took the boxers down.

Armie breathed harder.

Could a man be more stunning? His messy hair, beard scruff and tattoos added an edge to his gorgeously honed body. Everywhere she looked, everywhere she touched, he was rock solid. Sleek, taut skin on his shoulders and biceps led to sparse chest hair over his chiseled pecs, then down to dance over the ridges of his carved abdomen. With his feet stationed apart, she admired his strong, hairy calves and his thick thighs.