"So . . . what is it you want me to do?" Jack had this indulgent smile on his face, and Bailey would bet money he wasn't used to being told what to do, in bed or anywhere else.
He was lying naked in the middle of the king-size bed, looking every bit the rake as she approached him, wearing a thin robe she found in the closet. She supposed it was a courtesy item for guests when he rented the cottage out.
"Do you have a sleep mask?"
Jack grinned at her and folded his hands behind his head. "Why would I have a sleep mask?"
"Some people like them to shut out any light or distractions when they sleep."
"So, do you have one?"
"Of course not. I don't like the dark."
"Check in the linen closet. We have a variety of welcome items for our guests." He stretched lazily. "I didn't stock it myself, so I'm not sure what's in there."
"All right. But don't you move."
"I'm not going anywhere," Jonathon said, still in that cocky voice. Like he was humoring her. Well, she'd see about that.
Bailey rooted through the closet, and came up with a box with satin sleep masks, individually wrapped in their original plastic pouches.
She came back into the room, one of the masks dangling from her fingertips.
"Found it." She got on the bed, swung a leg over and straddled him.
"I like where this is heading," Jonathon said.
"Reach back and hold onto the metal rails of the headboard."
He gave her a lazy grin and complied. Bailey slipped the satin mask over his head and lowered it to cover his eyes.
"Now don't let go," she warned him. "This time, I'm in charge."
It was intoxicating to have Jack here, like this, hers to explore, without worrying that he would read something into the expressions on her face. All he would be aware of was her touch.
For Bailey, it was less about the game and more about the opportunity to know and memorize every inch of the man he had become. Because once this weekend was over, she didn't expect to ever see him again. Bailey was glad he couldn't see the sudden tears that sprang into her eyes before she blinked them away.
She let the robe slip open, let the silky material slide softly over his chest, his ribs, and her hands explored him. She traced her fingers over his lips, his strong jaw, the cleft in his chin, then moved slowly down the sides of his neck, leaning closer so that her breasts were inches from him, but never letting any part of their bodies touch except her hands exploring him, and her inner thighs pressing lightly against the sides of his hips.
She moved her knees up higher, and put a hand lightly on each of his wrists, over his pulse point, then slid the tips of her fingers slowly down the length of his arms, tracing small patters. She watched his hands grip the rails more tightly, heard his breathing go uneven.
When she ran the palms of her hands over his pecs she felt him tense.
"I want my hands on you," Jack said.
"Don't you dare move your hands off the headboard."
"What happens if I do?" His voice was husky, still with that teasing lilt.
She slid her hands lower, moving down his abdomen.
"You move your hands, and I'll stop. Do you want me to stop?"
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The Millionaire's Intriguing Offer
रोमांसThe last thing millionaire Miami lawyer Jonathon Berrington wanted to do this evening was parade across the stage at a charity ball to be auctioned to the highest bidder. But as the only remaining single partner at his elite Miami law firm, he let h...
