Oh, I was so utterly and completely fucked.

The way Eric looked at me made me feel more naked than I actually was, in so many ways. It wasn’t just that he was looking at what little clothing I still had on like he was picturing the skin beneath. No, the way those brown eyes swept over me, I felt like he was looking through my skin itself. I felt like I was flayed, the meat of me spread open and displayed for his perusal.

The way he’d kissed me earlier, when he’d said that old things had soul, I could have sworn he was able to read my thoughts. I was absolutely convinced he knew my mind in that moment, knew that it had immediately jumped to my dad and the old drum kit he’d given me when I was ten years old – the drum kit I still used on stage every night. The memory stirred way too many emotions in me. Especially since my dad was the main reason I didn’t do relationships.

Well, maybe it wasn’t fair to put it all on him. But he was the first person to teach me that relationships were temporary, and the lesson stuck.

And Eric? He was prime boyfriend material. It was obvious in the way he held doors open for me and walked between me and the street, the way he was fully prepared to stop back in the parking garage, when he thought he’d hurt me. He didn’t even know me, but he’d treated me like I was worthy of his care. He was a good guy. He would treat the woman he loved like gold.

And a part of me – a way-too-fucking-big part of me – wondered what it would be like to be that woman.

It was all too much to handle. Hot sex. I came here to this swanky hotel that he spent way too much money on to have hot monkey sex with a nerd fantasy come to life. And I needed to keep this orgasm train on the damn track so I could get off, then get out.

“Well? What the fuck are you waiting for?”

I injected just enough playfulness into my voice that I knew he’d take it not as a complaint, but as a dare. And sure enough, his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted in a smirk.

“Take your top off,” he said, his tone brisk and demanding.

I inhaled sharply. Okay, so he liked to issue commands. I could work with that.

I looked him over as I sat up, drinking in the smooth olive skin stretched over taut, lean muscles, the scattering of hair on his chest and abs, and the little dusky nipples that were already standing at attention. I wanted to bite them. I wanted to play with every inch of him until he was squirming and pleading for release.

He was still just standing there, his thumb slowly stroking his chin like he was having a nice, leisurely think. In his underwear. The tight black briefs were a surprise – I thought he’d be a classic boxer man all the way. But a very welcome surprise, I thought as I caught the outline of his sizable hard-on pressing against the cotton fabric.

His hips shifted as though they felt the weight of my stare, and the movement caused the tip of his cock to peek over the waistband of his briefs. I licked my lips, my eyes riveted to the little bit of him that I could see. I wanted to see all of him. I wanted to feel him in my mouth, the weight of him heavy on my tongue. I wanted to touch and lick and taste him everywhere.

He cleared his throat, and my gaze snapped up to his face once more.

He raised a brow. “Your top?”

I grinned. “I’m getting there,” I assured him, injecting some much-needed playfulness into my tone. Keep it light, Baptiste. I reached behind my neck and slowly pulled the halter ties apart. Then I let the cups fall, exposing myself for him. His eyes dropped to my tits, and my nipples beaded under his hungry gaze.

But he shook his head slightly. “All the way off.”

I hummed, feeling my pussy practically leak at his demanding tone. So I grabbed the hem of my top and pulled it up and over my head. His eyes were glued to my nipples as I tossed it to the floor.

“I’m almost sorry to see that go,” he said.

So was I. It was my favorite top, a bright yellow cotton crocheted in an open weave, lined only at the cups, for modesty. It didn’t do much to contain my D cups, but it looked amazing with my skin, and I felt like a million bucks whenever I wore it.

But that was nothing to how I felt now, with nothing on, and him looking at me like he was going to eat me alive. In that moment, I was a motherfucking Rockefeller.

“Can you even see me without your glasses, Poindexter?” I teased. Need to keep this light. Light, sexy fun with a new friend. Nothing more than that.

He narrowed his eyes. “I can see I’m going to need to fuck the sass right out of you,” he growled as he bent to retrieve something from the floor.

Oh. Oh shit.

Somehow, even though cursing was practically a second fucking language to me, I found it kind of endearing that he didn’t swear. To hear a grown-and-sexy man say “shoot” was just too damn cute.

But when he did? Fuck me sideways. And backwards. And upside fucking down. Because Eric dropping an F bomb was the hottest goddamn thing I’d ever heard. My panties were soaked.

“You can try,” I retorted, sounding braver than I felt. I had more confidence in myself than the average bear, but I had a feeling Eric could absolutely fuck the sass out of me. He’d barely even kissed me, and I was already putty in his hands.

“You’ll let me succeed.” He was still bent over, so I couldn’t see his face. But his voice was laced with amusement.

When he straightened, he had his suspenders in hand, and my brow crinkled in confusion. What the hell could he possibly want with those right now? I was (mostly) kidding with the Poindexter comment. I mean, I was down for pretty much anything he wanted to throw at me, but I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted him to fuck me with his suspenders on.

For starters, what would he attach them to?

But my mind emptied itself of all thoughts as he climbed onto the bed, shuffling forward on his knees. His eyes were locked on mine with enough intensity to send shivers up and down my spine.

“Lay back,” he ordered. “Hands above your head.”

Once again, I did as he asked. I was more turned on than I’d ever been, and really curious to see where he was going with this. As I settled in, my hands brushed the headboard, my knuckles dipping into a gap between the boards, and I suddenly knew what his plan was.

Oh, fuck yes. I’d been tied up once before, by a hot-ass yoga instructor who was the most flexible person I’d ever met. She was also the rare person I’d fucked more than once. We’d hooked up for weeks before we mutually agreed to end it.

Yes, I said “she.” Like I said, everyone is a sexual being. And I’m into pretty much everything.

Especially Eric, a voice in my mind whispered. But I shoved that shit to the back, because this was just the one night. Nothing special. Just a simple hook-up.

I bit my lip as he kneeled next to me, looking down at me with those chocolate eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked, his tone gentle even as his hungry expression practically melted my panties off.

I nodded, giving him a wicked grin. “I’m down for whatever,” I told him honestly.

He smiled, a slow spread of full lips across white teeth. His jaw was covered in stubble, just a step beyond a five o’clock shadow, and I swallowed a moan at the thought of it scraping against my skin.

I watched his face as he looped the suspenders around the headboard. His forehead was creased in concentration, but his lips were tipped up in a soft smile. He seemed totally relaxed and in control. I, on the other hand, was going nearly out of my mind. I was impatient to get going. I let out a soft whimper and arched my back, pushing my hands toward him. The anticipation was killing me.

“Patience,” he murmured. Then he wrapped the suspenders around my wrists, securing the whole thing with a complicated knot. I flexed my hands, making sure the restraints weren’t too tight. The material was soft and stretchy, but it was tightly wound around my wrists. I could move a little, but I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I was completely at his mercy.

I arched a brow as my eyes met his. “You’ve done this before,” I guessed.

He gave me an enigmatic smile. “Maybe.”

A moan escaped my throat. So my little nerd had a kinky side.

Oh, fuck yes.

He leaned forward, kissing me softly, his tongue darting out to lick mine once before he pulled away. “You taste so good,” he rumbled. “Wanna taste you everywhere.”

My eyes fluttered closed. “Yes,” I sighed. “Fucking do it.”

His hand trailed down my neck, his fingertips skimming my collarbone before travelling down to my breast. Then I felt his fingertips pinching my nipple – hard.

My eyes flew open to see him watching me, his gaze intense.

“Keep your eyes open,” he growled. “Watch me.” He bent his head and took my breast into his mouth, his tongue laving my nipple, soothing the sting his fingers had caused. “Watch me worship this body.”

Worship? I squirmed. Make no mistake, I am, and always have been, a motherfucking queen. I deserved to be worshipped. But something about the way he said it, the look in his eyes, seemed … not light. Not like a carefree hook-up. No, it seemed like this meant more to him than it did to me. More than it should.

And I was literally tied to the bed, unable to get away from the intensity, the emotion in his dark eyes. I was completely at his mercy.

Shit.

“Watch,” he murmured before I could formulate a response. He continued to run his hands over me, that seductive mouth peppering my skin with soft kisses and nibbles. “Watch me give you what you deserve.” His fingers trailed lower, toying with the waistband of my panties. “Watch me as I make you come all over my tongue.”

I moaned again, despite myself. Now, that was something I could get down with.

Unable to push his head down like I wanted to, I locked eyes with him. “Then fucking do it,” I growled.

He chuckled, his head lowering again. “Patience,” he murmured, just before he sucked my nipple into his mouth once more.

I grunted and sighed and all but pleaded with him, but he took his sweet-ass time, exploring seemingly every inch of skin on my torso – but always stopping just short of where I really needed him. I was about to demand that he let me go when finally, finally, he licked a line along the waistband of my panties.

“Pretty,” He murmured. Then he grabbed the purple lace between his hands and ripped a line right down my hip. A very unsexy squeal escaped me as I lifted my head to stare at him, dumbfounded.

And then, with a defiant gleam in his eye, he did the same to the other side.

My mouth popped open. “Did you just destroy my panties?”

He smirked. “I’ll buy you another pair.”

I glared at him. “Oh, I know you will,” I threatened. “I will die without those panties.”

His expression plainly told me he thought I was being ridiculous. “I highly doubt that.”

“I will,” I assured him. “And then I will find out where you live and fucking haunt you for the rest of your days, as punishment for murdering my lingerie.”

What? I really loved those panties. They made my thick thighs and big ass look fucking flawless. I had the same style in every color they made, but the purple ones were my favorite.

His head tipped back in a laugh. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he said, his eyes warm as he looked up at me.

Aw, hell. It was like he’d dumped cold water over my head. His eyes, his tone of voice, his smile. All of him told me he’d love nothing more than for me to haunt him for real. And I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him to want more time with me, because I didn’t want more time with him. No, really, I didn’t. I was not in the right head space to have a relationship – not now, not ever. I just wanted to have an orgasm or three and go live my life the way I wanted: blissfully single.

And the faster he got to the damn point, the faster I could get out of here.

“Speaking of threatening someone with a good time,” I replied, “are you ever going to make me come?”

His eyes swept over my face like he was trying to read me. I locked my carefree smile in place, not dropping eye contact. I can bluff with the best of them, thank you very fucking much. He didn’t need to know how much this whole experience with him was rattling me.

After a long moment, he slapped my thigh. “Fine.” He pulled the remains of my panties off, taking a thorough look at my now completely naked body. His eyes glittered with lust when he looked back up at me, his grin ratcheting up to full volume. Then, finally, he lowered his head.

“You want an orgasm?” he rasped, his breath fanning over my now-exposed pussy. “You’ll get the best fucking orgasm you’ve ever had.”