Slow Ride (14 page)
He had no clue what exactly they were doing, given they kept shifting between sexual and friendly and confessional, but holding hands like high school sweethearts wasn’t the mood he wanted to strike at the moment. So he swept his arm toward the door and gave a mock carnival voice. “Right this way, step inside, if you dare.”
“Is this the house of wonders or the house of freaks?” she asked, twirling her crop in her fingers as she strolled past him, her hips swaying.
“Both.” Damn, he was just amazed at how naturally sexy Tuesday was. The way she took the three stairs to his back door showed she was aware of how every inch of her body moved, and what his reaction to it would be.
Turning to glance back at him, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Promise?”
“Guaranteed.” Diesel slid his hand over her ass, cupping her cheek before moving between her legs and stroking. “Now open the door before I nail you in the garage.”
Her hand reached out for the knob but she didn’t turn around. “Someone needs to learn patience.”
Moving in behind her, Diesel bumped his erection into her backside. “I’ll have plenty of patience once we’re naked. But now I want to get you inside so I can see some of that body you flashed at me the other day.”
“I didn’t flash anything at you.”
“What do you call dropping your blanket onto the floor? You were only wearing a very tiny bra and panties.” The vision was burned into his memory.
“I was hungover. That doesn’t count.”
“It counts. You meant to do it.”
She stepped into the house and gave him a grin over her shoulder. “You’re right. I did mean to do it. You deserved it for not denying I looked like ass. I was trying to prove a point.”
“What point was that again, exactly?” Diesel couldn’t really follow the logic. Nor was he able to focus on anything other than the fact that she had stopped moving just inside the doorway.
“Oh, hello, there’s a dog here.” Tuesday bent over and petted Wilma, who had appeared, looking half asleep, her tail wagging lightly.
“That’s Wilma.”
“Wilma? Do you have an old lady fetish?”
“She’s named after Fred Flintstone’s wife. And even if I had an old lady fetish, what does that have to do with my dog?”
“Good point. I don’t know.”
“Speaking of points, what was yours again when you danced the blanket the other day?” He wanted to get back to that topic. Naked woman conversation trumped dog talk.
“I wanted you to see that I look alright.”
“Sweetheart, you look way more than alright.” He reached out and grabbed the lapel of her riding jacket and yanked her over to him. “In case you doubt it, here’s proof.” With his free hand he took her and guided her right to his erection, pressing hard.
“That’s definitely proof of something.” She looked like she was going to make a smart-ass remark but then her eyes fluttered shut briefly and she gave a sigh as she stroked him all on her own. “Damn, that’s a lovely penis.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about having his dick called lovely, but he’d take it for a compliment. “And you haven’t even seen it yet. Or tasted it. Or felt it deep inside your wet pussy.”
Her eyes snapped open and her hand stilled. “Who’s to say my pussy’s wet?”
Diesel liked that she didn’t balk at his graphic language. She gave it right back. His cock throbbed, hot desire tensing his muscles from head to toe as he fought for control. “Well, let’s find out.”
“Suit yourself.” Her shrug was nonchalant, but her hips tilted toward him and her legs spread ever so slightly in invitation.
The stretchy pants were a damn fine clothing choice because all he had to do was peel back the waistband and slide on in. What he was met with was smooth, soft skin, a swollen clitoris, and nothing else between him and her very wet, very juicy pussy. He groaned, startled and aroused all at the same time. “No panties?” he asked, his voice gruff as he pressed his thumb into all that sweet moisture.
Her head was tilting to the side, her breathing deepening from his touch. “I didn’t want lines. These pants are fitted, you know.”
“Oh, I know. I fucking know.”
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“No panties? Uh, no, not a problem.” Nor was it a problem that Tuesday was almost entirely bare down there. From what he could feel, and he was feeling as much as he could, there was nothing but a landing strip of curls on either side. Which was very, very sexy. He was already imagining how easy it would be to move his tongue along that silky hot skin. His fingers were doing just that, teasing up and down, circling around her swollen clitoris, then pressing in slightly before pulling out.
Tuesday gave a soft little moan, her hips following his finger as he pulled back.
“What’s the matter?” he asked her, brushing a kiss alongside her temple.
“You’re teasing me.”
“Hell yeah.” He intended to do a lot of that. “You know you like it.”
“I don’t think I do, actually,” she murmured, still wiggling around trying to get him to penetrate her. “I like to just be given what I ask for.”
“I’m perfectly willing to do that out of the bedroom.” He already had, he thought. He’d let Tuesday call the shots. He was a laid-back guy most of the time and wanted any woman he was with to be happy.
“Except for when I asked you for a drink.” Tuesday rubbed up and down on his cock through his denim, before nipping at his earlobe.
He put his hand over hers. “You’re right. Sorry about that. Normally the only place I insist on controlling the situation is in bed.”
“You insist? So you’re saying you’re a dom?”
Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it. Maybe he should just be showing her. Diesel took both of her wrists with his hand and moved them up over her head. “Nothing as official as that. It’s just a preference, that’s all. You don’t mind, do you?”
“The funny thing is,” she said, her eyes slumberous, her breasts rising up and down with her ragged breathing, “I like to be in control everywhere
except
the bedroom. It’s the one time I’m perfectly willing to be told what to do. And if you’re good at it . . .”
except
the bedroom. It’s the one time I’m perfectly willing to be told what to do. And if you’re good at it . . .”
Diesel moved his left knee in between her thighs and rubbed the spot he’d abandoned with his finger. “Yeah?”
“If you’re good at it, you can get me to pretty much do anything.”
Now it was his turn to groan. “Anything?”
The corner of her mouth tilted up in a saucy smile. “Almost. Where are the cookies?”
“In my hand. But I’m setting them down.” Diesel erased the space between them and kissed her hard, deeply, his tongue thrusting into her partially open mouth. She turned him on like no woman ever had and while in the back of his mind he worried that his knee wouldn’t hold out for this kind of extended play, he was willing to take the chance. His fingers tangled in her long hair, his other hand still pinning her arms to the wall. An image of Tuesday tied up, legs spread for him flashed through his head, and he knew he needed to get her to his bed now. He wanted to taste and touch and feel every inch of her.
Breaking off the kiss, Diesel also completely stepped back from her. His heart was racing, erection throbbing. But with slow deliberation, he bent over and retrieved the crop Tuesday had dropped at some point. With it he pointed down the hall. “The stairs are that way. Use them.”
She sucked in a breath, her finger rubbing over her bottom swollen lip. Her eyes widened, and Diesel fully expected her to argue, or at the very least make a smart-ass remark. But she didn’t. Without a word, she started down the hall in the direction he had indicated. Which was one of the hottest things he had ever seen.
But just because her ass was there in front of him, tight and high, and because he had a crop in his hand, he swatted her with it. Not hard, but enough to get her attention. She jumped a little, obviously startled, and Diesel wasn’t sure what was hotter—the actual swat, or the fact that she didn’t snark at him about it.
He knew enough about her to suspect she’d want to look around at his house, to comment, but she didn’t. She did glance around, but she didn’t say a word as she went up the stairs, tossing him a smoldering look over her shoulder. Diesel followed her, flicking the lights on and testing the sting of the crop on his palm. She was going to either regret or really appreciate the fact that she had brought it. Without it, it was possible he would have been able to control himself a little more, keep this first time vanilla and gentle.
But that little prop had changed any of his best intentions. Now he just wanted to take her exactly how he wanted.
“Which way?” she asked. “Or am I supposed to guess?”
There was some of that customary sass he was used to from her. He liked that she wasn’t going to be totally submissive. He didn’t really want blind obedience. He just wanted to be the director of their little show. He wanted to drive her wild to the point where she was willing to do just about anything, like she had said. That was hot to him. “Why don’t you guess? And if you’re wrong, I’ll punish you.”
She hesitated for a brief second, studying him. “You know, I shouldn’t trust you, but I do. Or maybe I’m just horny and stupid.”
Diesel let the crop lower. He didn’t want her to have any doubts at all. “Hey. I would never do anything to hurt you.” He reached out and stroked along her cheek, enjoying her soft skin. “I’m a nice guy, remember? If anything makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and I’ll stop. And if this is too much for the first time . . .” He waved the crop a little. “Just tell me and we’ll take a different approach.”
All that mattered to him was that she was enjoying herself. There would be time for more exploratory activities later. He could go traditional if she wanted, and hell, she had a point. How was she really supposed to trust him?
But she shook her head. “I’m not uncomfortable. I’m so comfortable it’s making me feel like I should be uncomfortable. But I’m not.”
She turned and studied the doors in his hallway. “So I’m going to guess which room in the
master
bedroom.”
master
bedroom.”
The emphasis on master was slight, but Diesel heard it and he swallowed hard. Damn, she was amazing.
Poking her head in the first doorway on her right, she immediately shook her head. “No way. This is an office.”
“That one was a giveaway.” He was hoping his multiple guest rooms were going to trip her up. He wanted nothing more than to take his hand to her bare backside and give her a nice resounding smack. They would both enjoy it, that was obvious, and now that the idea had taken root, Diesel didn’t want to let it go.
“This one isn’t the master either. It’s too small.” Tuesday moved down the hallway, her hips sashaying. “This is easier than I thought.”
So she thought. She was approaching his room and the two guest rooms that all were about the same size and had their own bathrooms. They had all been decorated by the woman he had hired, and looked equally elegant and masculine. Given that he wasn’t big on clutter, there would be virtually no way to know which room was his without stepping in to the bathroom.
Victory was going to taste very sweet.
Her eyebrows drew together when she glanced in the first room on the right, then the second. “Huh. One door left.” She peeked into what was his real bedroom and her frown deepened. “Why the hell do you have so many beds?”
“For people to sleep in.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You tricked me, you know.”
“No, I didn’t. You agreed to guess.” Though he couldn’t help but grin just a little. Tuesday hated to lose. He had already figured that out about her already, and while she would enjoy the punishment, it would drive her insane that she had lost.
“I didn’t know you had identical bedrooms.” Tuesday glanced in the rooms again, longer this time, studying each one carefully. “You set me up to fail.”
Maybe. “Never.”
“Cheat.” She was clearly about to grumble, when she did a double-take into his bedroom again. “Never mind. I pick this room. This is where you sleep.” She tossed her thumb in the direction of his bedroom.
Damn. She was right. “What makes you think that?”
“You made your bed but you forgot to put the throw pillows back on. They’re laying on the floor.”
He hated to admit it, but he couldn’t lie to her. “Okay, you’re right. Good deduction.”
“I’m fucking brilliant, that’s what I am.”
“Fucking brilliant. And brilliantly fuckable. I totally agree.”
“Brilliantly fuckable? I like that. Maybe I’ll put that on my business cards.”
“The hell you will.” Diesel ran his fingers through her long hair, loving the sheen of it in the muted hallway lights. “Now since you guessed correctly I’ll let you pick which bedroom I’m going to fuck you in.”
“Oh, without a doubt, your bedroom.” She turned and entered his room. “I want to roll around naked on your sheets.”
Tuesday was feeling turned on and totally in control, despite the game they were playing. She did trust Diesel, and while he was domineering he wasn’t rough. Not in any way she didn’t like, that is. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been this turned on by a man before and they hadn’t even really done anything yet. All the talk was exciting, spiking her anticipation.
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