and trained his dark eyes on me.
“Undress,” he ordered simply.
My brows rose. I was a little surprised. When we agreed on doing this, I had imagined him wildly ripping my clothes off in a fit of passion. But in that moment, he seemed cool and relaxed, nowhere near as affected as I was.
“Nicole,” he said my name when I didn’t seem to respond. My gaze met his. “Undress.” His tone was deep, almost as if he was warning me to comply . . . or else.
Taking a deep breath, I bent to slip off my heels. My feet ached. When we left that morning, I had no idea Parker and I would go on a walkabout of New York. Heels weren’t my best choice.
“Leave the heels,” Parker ordered, stopping me.
I nodded once in compliance and found the hem of my dress. As I began pulling it up my body, he added, “Slower.”
His voice was low and deep and I trembled slightly. I’d been in front of countless people judging me in pageants. I’d worn bikinis and gowns and not once had I ever felt nervous about the eyes that were upon me. But with Parker, I was nervous. The way he was staring at me—so calm and stoic—I wondered if he thought I wasn’t sexy.
Slowly, I pulled my cotton dress up and over my head. My blond hair cascaded over my shoulders and down my back as I tossed the garment aside and met Parker’s gaze. With my hands on my hips, I worked hard to match his expression; fearless and unreadable. But inside I was a nervous wreck.
The white, lacy panties and bra I was wearing were very fitting for the virgin that I was. Parker’s dark stare moved slowly down my body, and then back up again. “Now the bra,” he said calmly.
My heart hammered, my chest pounding like a drum. He was so fucking calm. How was that possible? Most men I’d fooled around with almost creamed their pants when they saw me this naked. I’d always liked it, to some degree. It made me feel like I had the upper hand; like I owned them. Shaking my head slightly so my long hair would brush off my shoulders, I turned my back to him as I undid my bra. Holding it between two fingers, I stretched my arm out and let it fall to the floor. Before turning to face Parker again, I peeked over my shoulder. He was still Mr. Calm and Unreadable.
Biting my lower lip, I made it my goal to undo him, to demolish his walls. As I spun around slowly, I ran my hands down the curves of my sides and back up again. I got nothing. I stood mostly naked, in heels, in front of the sexiest yet most frustrating man I had ever met. I mean, come on. I was naked and I got . . . nothing? I knew I was not grotesque, I’m a pretty girl, but even I needed a little reassurance every now and then; especially when I was about to lose my virginity. Not that he knew that.
I was done. Smiling coyly at him, I gently rubbed over my breast and down my belly. My hand skillfully slipped beneath the lace of my panties and I moaned as I touched my warm, wet flesh. My head fell back as my fingers moved over my clit. When I raised my head again, Parker still hadn’t moved.
“Does that feel good, Nicole?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed as I continued pleasuring myself. I was so worked up, two days of dirty talk and foreplay had wound me up.
Standing, he approached me slowly, his dark gaze glued to the hand between my legs. When he moved behind me I almost collapsed when I felt the warm skin of his chest and stomach against my back. I couldn’t fight the tremor that vibrated through me. They say the brain sends messages through nerves in our body almost instantly, controlling our movements. But my brain had shut down and my body was acting on its own volition. His breath brushed over my shoulder as his hand slid around me and found my hand between my legs. He pressed his hand on top of mine, my panties separating them. Then he joined in my motions with me, and my body ignited as he bit the flesh of my neck. I moaned. It hurt, but for some reason my body pushed back against him, begging for
Cassandra Zara, Lucinda Lane