Best Laid Plans by Robyn Kelly (ebook reader color screen txt) 📕

been awakening in me. I need to feel him. I can’t stop myself from leaning into his kiss, into his arms, into his seduction. There is something so powerful between us that it almost distracts me from the hands working the zipper on the back of my dress.

Then just as suddenly, his head snaps back. He looks confused, as if he awoke from a dream and hasn’t quite realized where he is. “I get such mixed signals from you,” he says, almost to himself. His eyes have a laser-like quality as he scans my face. “You really haven’t done anything kinky before?”

I shake my head and his expression hardens. “If you lied to me I’ll find out. I always find out.”

A minute ago he thought I was the most honest person he’s met, and now he is threatening me. Sounds like a man with trust issues.

Jackson takes my shoulders in his hands and steps back. “I want you. All of you. But let me be clear. There is no one else—for either of us. As long as we’re together, there will be no one else. Do you understand?”

I nod my head. It’s not like I have a waiting room full of men, and I’m not expecting this to be a long term commitment. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever see him again after tonight. The whole job offer could just be billionaire foreplay.

He grabs one of my hands and reels me in as the other arm slides around my back, pressing us together tightly. “Having second thoughts?”

I look into his eyes. They are as blue as a gas burner flame, and just as warm. “I was thinking this through.”

His brow furrows. “Thinking? Thinking isn’t sexy. Thinking leads to guessing, and planning, and judging.”

He forgot to add worrying. “You like thoughtless women?”

He tilts his head. I know it was a smartass comment, but bantering with him helps me feel a little less insecure about where this is leading.

“What I like,” he intones, “is a woman who can abandon herself to the moment.”

It sounds like a challenge. I have nothing to fear but fear itself. I wrap my arms around his neck, and part his lips with my tongue. Was it only last night when we first kissed? When I thought he was the most arrogant man in the world.

He slams me up against the door again, never losing contact with my mouth. His thigh presses between my legs, and his foot spreads them wider.

He lifts his head and we are equally breathless. “I’m not interested in casual sex. There is nothing casual about what is going to happen tonight. We are going to get to know each other very well.”

“Then let’s move this party to the bedroom,” I add with more certainty than I feel.

“A traditionalist, huh? You only like sex in a bed?”

“The neighbor across the hall is a busybody. But I share a bedroom wall with Mrs. Johnson, and she’s going a little deaf.”

A sly smile crosses his lips. “How could I forget you’re an event planner.” He takes a step back and holds out his hand. I wrap mine inside it and head toward the bedroom. This is the awkward part, but it’s best to get it over with. I reach into my nightstand and pull out a box.

“I don’t know if you came prepared…but I have some—”

“A box of condoms? No wonder you’re worried about the noise.”

“There’s only six in there.”

“Only six? I’m feeling pressured.” Then he laughs out loud. “But they did expire last year.”

“Condoms expire?”

That only makes him laugh harder. “I thought you were a passionate woman, and now I know why. You are starving and I find that an incredible turn-on.”

He pounces like an animal, kissing me, touching me, his hands pulling at the back of my dress. “I was going to have you strip for me. I was going to make you take off each piece of clothing and fold it carefully.” He pulls the dress over my head. “But I need you naked now.”

He tosses the dress on the floor before I can grab it. He unhooks my bra, and flings it in the same direction. “So beautiful.” He steps back, takes off his suit jacket, and adds it to the pile.

He unknots his tie, pulls it from under his collar, and then stares at the silk material (probably wondering if he wants to tie me up with it). I guess it’s one of his favorites, because he tosses it on top of the other clothing.

The pile is getting too big for me to ignore. I’m about to pick the items up when he commands, “Unbutton me.” He pulls his shirt tails out of his pants, and I feel his eyes on me when I reach for the bottom button.

“There are things I want to do to that beautiful body of yours,” he murmurs. “Sensual adventures. Pleasurable little games. The kind of things your mind says good girls don’t do.”

I work my way up his shirt to the collar. I know I should be listening to what he is saying. I know it’s important, but he’s so damn handsome I can’t concentrate. Even his self-satisfied smile, as I release the last button, is hot.

He slips out of his shirt. His chest is the perfect blend of muscle and hair. His broad shoulders and wide back taper down to a muscular waist. There is a thin line of hair below his navel that trails down behind the zipper of his pants. I notice a flash of white as his shirt descends onto the discard pile.

He takes my chin in his hand, and tilts my head up to his face. “What would you like to do first?”

“I’d like to pick up your clothes from the floor.”

His sensual smirk slips and, after a confused pause, a grin crosses his face. “You want to be my little servant? Should I get you a French maid’s uniform?”

I sidestep him, and bend over to pick up his clothes. “I am trying to save you from a wrinkled Walk of Shame.”

“Really? Or is that just an excuse for you to bend over and show me your ass?”

I lay our clothes on top of the dresser. “I’m sorry. I’m a little funny about bedrooms. They’re a kind of sanctuary for me…ever since I was a child.”

“You get distracted so easily,” he muses, slipping his shoes off. He steps out of his pants and hands them to me. “Are you done with your chores now? Can I get back to seducing you?”

Seeing Jackson in only a pair of boxers makes it easy to nod my head.

He steps closer. “Actually, it’s my turn for a little housekeeping. First, I have to ruin your carefully folded pile of clothes.” He removes his jacket, reaches in a pocket, and pulls out a condom. He hands the jacket back to me, watching with an amused expression, as I fold and return it to the pile.

He slides up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. His skin is warm, and it feels good against my naked back. I inhale his spicy, masculine scent. If Dr. Bronner made a soap in this fragrance I would soak in it until my skin pickles.

Jackson gently exhales across my neck and shoulders. “And now the last piece of housekeeping. Do you have a safe word?”

“Do I need one?”

“They’re useful for role play. Maybe you’d like me to be the dangerous man who’s doing terrible, wonderful things to you. Then you’ll have the freedom to beg me to stop…and not have to worry I will. The poor little victim who’s trapped in the clutches of a man determined to have her.”

I hate the word victim. I have fought all my life against being one. So why does it sound so intriguing when he says it?

“So, what shall we use for our safe word?” he whispers.

I turn inside his embrace and drape my arms around his shoulders. “The only ones I know are yellow and red.”

“Little Jillian Whitkins. Everything she knows about kinky sex she read in a book. No one ever stops to think how you use a safe word when there’s a gag in your mouth.”

My eyes must have flashed a panicked look, because a sexual smile crosses his face. “No, Jillian. Not tonight. I’m not going to gag you, or bind you, or blindfold you. Tonight, we’re just going to play with our bodies, and our dirty little minds. So use yellow if things are getting to be too much, and say red if we need to stop altogether. But if we’re going with the traffic light example, let’s add green. Anytime I’m doing something you like and you want more of—say green.” In a flash, I hear a rip and my panties are yanked off me. I’m exposed, possessed, and surprisingly turned on.

“I like ripping clothing. And the color in your cheeks tells me you don’t mind when I do it.”

My mental light bulb comes on. “That’s why you have all those little black dresses.”

“Some women are very particular about their wardrobe. I’ll replace anything I ruin, but I suggest you don’t wear things around me you would hate to lose.”

I think about my closet and imagine him ripping through it, until he slaps me on my thigh. “I can always tell when you start thinking. It’s like you’re somewhere else. Are you trying to figure me out in that busy little mind of yours? I’m giving you all my attention right now, and I need all of yours. That will be your first lesson.”

“Lesson?” I thought we were going to have sex.

“Get on the bed.”