NO RESERVATIONS
“Do you like this one?” She posed with her feet together
and her hands clasping the feather duster just below her breasts, looking at
him from beneath her lashes. “I got the idea from a costume I made for a play
in college.”
As she breathed, the feathers brushed against her breasts,
the sensation intensifying the lust pulsing through her body.
A flush spread across Tyler’s
cheeks and his eyes glittered in the dusky light of the room. Without saying a
word, he lifted his hand and drew circles in the air with his index finger.
She complied with his request—at least, she chose to think
of it as a request—and did a slow spin.
“So what do you think?”
He walked forward, and she thought he’d come to her.
Instead, he stopped at the couch and sat down.
Sprawled would be more like it. He slung one arm on the
back of the couch and let the other rest on the cushion next to him. With his
dark hair tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and the
casual jeans and tight T-shirt that clung to his broad chest, she wanted to go
over and sit on his lap and lick him. Everywhere.
“I think I’d like to see what else you have in that bag.”
His voice had deepened to a low rasp and she was glad she’d
added a thong to the ensemble. It would be soaked by the time she was finished
but that was okay.
She pouted and put one hand on her cocked hip. “Don’t you
like it? I would have thought this would be right up your alley, being in the
hotel business and all.”
The corners of his mouth barely moved in a smile but she
knew he was. “I’m all for letting you design the next round of service
uniforms, sweetheart. But I think I’d have a riot on my hands.”
She sighed dramatically and turned on her heel to head back
to the bedroom. But just before she closed the door behind her, she looked over
her shoulder. “Then I guess we’ll just have to try something a little less . . .
frilly.”
With the door closed, she practically skipped back to the
bed and the pile of clothes she’d laid there.
Shimmying out of the maid’s costume, she let it drop to the
floor as she picked up a leaf-green piece of chamois deliberately made to look torn
and jagged. She tied that around her breasts then tied a slightly larger, dark
brown chamois piece around her waist.
She didn’t bother with the headband. He’d get the general
idea.
“I always did want to be Tarzan when I grew up,” he said as
she stopped just in front of him this time.
“He certainly has that beauty-and-the-beast thing going for
him. What do you think of this one?”
“I think it’s sexy as all hell. And I think you should come
over here and let me take it off you.”
Right then she realized she wanted him to come after her. Wanted
to break his rigid control and entice him off the couch and to her.
“Hmm, no. I don’t think you’re all that interested in this
one. I guess we’ll just have to try another.”
When she returned the next time, she swore he turned a
deeper shade of red.
She hadn’t been sure what he’d make of this one.
“I’m missing the boots but I think you get the general
idea. What do you think of this one?”
He didn’t say anything right away, his gaze glued to her
body. He stared so long, she wondered if she’d actually shocked him.
Finally, he stood, closing the few feet between them.
He towered over her, hands at his sides as he circled
around her.
“What was your inspiration for this one?”
She actually shivered at the sound of his voice, couldn’t
control it. “I had a huge crush on Keanu Reeves in The Matrix. I wanted to be Trinity.”
“I think her clothes were a little more . . .
concealing.”
He still hadn’t touched her yet she could feel the heat of
his body like a caress against her skin. Her fingers curled into her palms to
keep from reaching for him when he stopped in front of her again.
“I took a few liberties.”
“I see that.”
Yes, this costume was made of leather, but it probably only
used the same amount of fabric as one pants leg of Trinity’s outfit.
The black shorts were no more than six inches at the widest
point and, though he couldn’t see it, the crotch was missing. Well, not
missing, she just hadn’t made one.
Her breasts were mostly bare, although her nipples were covered
by crisscrossing, two-inch strips of leather that attached at her neck and
behind her back.
Another intricate pattern of straps crossed her stomach and
attached to the shorts.
“Is The Matrix the only inspiration
you had for this?”
She knew what he was asking. “I had a personal request for
this one.”
His gaze finally connected with hers. “From someone who
wanted you to wear it?”
Was that jealousy she detected in his tone? “From someone
who wanted to wear it herself.”
He nodded, and she knew he’d totally dismissed the thought.
“Do you have any more?”
“Only one.”
“Am I going to get to see it now?”
“Do you want to?”
“Do you have other designs at home?”
“Yes.”
His lips barely moved but she could tell he was smiling. “Then
let’s see the last one.”
She’d saved her favorite for last. Wondered if he’d realize
why. The man seemed to be able to read her mind.
As she changed, she drew in a sharp breath as the leather
pulled away from her oh-so-sensitive nipples. At least when she drew the shorts
down nothing rubbed against her clit. Though she wanted something to.
God, if he didn’t grab her and throw her on a flat surface
soon, she swore she’d spontaneously combust.
Which didn’t make a lick of sense considering she’d spent
half the past week worrying about losing herself to him.
Of course, she’d spent the rest of it pining after him.
She needed to get out of this circular thinking pattern. It
wasn’t helping at all.
Picking up the pieces of the last costume, she smiled. She’d
made this one for herself.
The tiny, see-through white blouse gaped open to expose the
neon blue bra, barely covered the bottom curve of her breasts, and left her
entire midsection exposed. The seven-inch-long, pleated plaid skirt barely
brushed her hips at the top and almost covered her ass in the back. The blue
thong that matched her bra left her ass exposed but its strings were visible above
the skirt’s waistband.
The line of tiny buttons up the side required concentration
to work through the holes. Though if you were in a hurry, you really didn’t
need to remove the skirt at all.
Damn, she was going to soak through the panties in seconds.
Speaking of which . . . She pulled the thong
on first, nearly moaning at the feel of the silk string between her cheeks and against
the lips of her pussy. All he’d have to do was touch her and she’d explode.
Next, the bra. The lace felt almost abrasive against her
skin, heightening her already burning lust. By the time she’d pulled on the
skirt and shirt, she wanted to run back to Tyler and let him rip it all off of her.
She was going to need a shrink by the time this
relationship came to an end.
Which she refused to even think about right now.
At the mirror, she gathered her hair into two ponytails
over her ears, leaving a few strands to brush her cheeks.
Stepping back, she checked her appearance. And nearly chickened
out.
It might actually take more strength for her to walk out to
Tyler wearing
this than it would to go out naked.
Did she look ridiculous? Would he find her sexy dressed like
this? Some men had hang-ups about stuff like this. She didn’t think Tyler was one of them, but
how did she know for sure? They didn’t really know each other all that well,
did they?
And you’re making excuses because you’re
scared. Now or never.
She went to the door and walked through.
***
She’d been in there longer than she had for the other
costumes and Tyler
couldn’t help but let his imagination run a little wild.
He’d been shocked speechless when she’d walked out in that
first outfit. Not because he didn’t like it but because he hadn’t expected her
to do anything like that.
Obviously, he didn’t know Kate as well as he thought he
did.
And he wanted to, so badly he could see it becoming
something of a problem in the future.
A future he hadn’t imagined with anyone since he’d lost
Mia.
One that—
The door opened and his brain stuttered to a stop for a
full thirty seconds.
Holy shit.
He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to breathe without
choking.
She looked . . . so fucking hot. And he’d
never before been one for the whole naughty schoolgirl thing.
But holy hell, he was beginning to see the appeal.
At least on Kate.
The skirt made her legs look amazingly long and the top and
bra accentuated her somewhat meager attributes. Not that he’d ever complain. He
was more a big-picture guy than a breast or ass man.
And this picture . . . Christ, put a bullet
in him now. He was done.
As she strolled over to stand in front of him, she had one
hand on her hip and twirled the end of one ponytail with the other.
All she needed was a lollipop to suck on and he might as
well just melt into a puddle right here.
Then he’d give her something else to suck on.
Very soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment