He studies me seriously. “I’m sorry if you were upset by the locked door,” he says evenly. “I needed freedom from distraction, so I could focus. My Portuguese isn’t strong, and I was speaking to Armando at Harrier.”
My stomach sinks at the casual untruth. I’d love to call himout on what he’s claiming, but it’s better strategy to keep it to myself for now.
“Whatever. But you need to stay out of my business about Sherri. I can’t handle a guilt trip on top of how complicated my feelings already are.”
He pushes off the counter and comes toward me, cupping the elbows of my tightly folded arms in his palms, smoothing his hands up my bare arms. “Understood.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “You’re in a sour mood tonight, kleine Hexe.”
“I’m allowed,” I grumble, responding to his cautious smile with a faint, reluctant one of my own.
“Certainly.” Another kiss, this time at my temple. “And I hopeI’mallowed to sweeten it.” His knuckle curls beneath my chin and he tips my face up, studying my eyes for the invitation before closing in on my mouth for a deep kiss.
As we part, I say, “I’ll bet I know what kind of sugar you’re offering.”
“Two kinds.” He delivers another kiss. “Because I was also going to say, I’m happy to give you the first interview about Sage’s move to Emerald after we make the announcement. Would that please you?”
It would, but something in his manner tells me he was going to offer that anyway and is framing it as a “gift” to distract me from what’s really going on.
I didn’t say so a few minutes ago—playing ignorant is an advantage with overheard secrets—but he wasn’t speaking Portuguese on that call. It was French, and I recognized three things:les droits de l’homme, human rights;scandale international, internationalscandal; andAristide, the first name of the CEO of Emerald’s biggest sponsor, PlatiNumeric.
He’s trailing hot kisses down my neck and across my shoulder, and when he pauses to look at my face again, some hint of my frustration that he’s lying must show, despite how turned on I’m getting.
His smile is full of mischief. “You want to remain cross with me, hmm?” He caresses me from waist to hip, catching the hem of my short nightie at the bottom and sweeping it up, his touch whispering along my skin. “Because…” One finger hooks into the strap of my panties. “That day in Santorini you werequiteangry. And that anger…” He drags the lacy strap down. “Was a dash of salt to your palate. Something you can’t wait to taste again.”
I shiver deliciously as the fabric of my underwear glides over the curve of my bottom, stopping halfway down. My nipples are tight and tingling, and it demands all my will to remain still as a statue, eyes cool, imperious, letting him try to thaw me.
“You asked me to tame you that night,” he says an inch from my lips, flicking the straps of my chemise off my shoulders. “Do you enjoy behaving like an ill-tempered little wildcat sometimes so you can be subdued?”
“Maybe.Ohhh…”
As Klaus strips the bodice of my nightie down and cups my breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth and rolling it with his tongue, my animosity burns away like a flash of steam from ice thrown onto a griddle.
He releases the nipple and kisses his way back up to my mouth, claiming my lips with intensity, stroking my tongue, impressing abold bite to my lower lip that makes me whimper with both the sting and the knee-weakening hunger. As he pulls away, I lean toward him, following his mouth.
“It’s a lot of work, being such a good girl,” he murmurs, hypnotic. “How many times have you calledmean enigma, reproached me for being evasive? Yet you”—he turns me around to face the counter, and I lean on my forearms with a gasp—“hide your deepest nature from the world. So polite, forgiving, accommodating.” Drawing my hair aside, he kisses the nape of my neck. “So biddable,” he whispers.
He pushes my panties down with torturous slowness, and I’m already so wet that I can feel how the fabric peels away. I moan, and an eager twitch shivers inside me. I’m aching to feel him, and madder at myself for needing him like this than I am at him for lying about the phone call. Why can’t I resist his touch, his scent, the timbre of his voice?
“Biddable? Me?” I ask as his hands glide over my bottom, dipping between my legs to tease me from behind. I duck my knees and move my hips to one side, playfully dodging his caress.
He gives me a little swat, then braces my hips in his big hands. “Wicked tease.”
“Do that again,” I urge, my tone a longing sigh. He delivers another two, and the intimacy of his warm hand against my skin lights me up inside. “A little harder…”
“I know what you need,” he growls. His leg moves between mine, and he nudges my thighs apart. “Wider,” he directs. “Open for me.”
I comply, waiting to hear the rasp of his zipper lowering, and am shocked pleasantly breathless when he lands a sharp smackagainst my pussy. A burst of lustful electricity shoots down my thighs. “Oh God!”
“Yes?”
His voice borders on smug, and I want to be annoyed about it. But I’m eager to feel his hand again. My clit is wide awake, throbbing with need.
“Please, more—”
I barely have the words out when his flattened hand smacks again, twice, three times. I’m taut with anticipation, breathing hard, my hips angling to give him better access.
“Fuck…”I moan. Surprised at myself for cursing, I open my eyes wide, then squeeze them shut again.
Klaus chuckles, and finally I hear the welcome sound of his zipper. “There’s my lewd girl. Suchunchastewords.”
