Out on a Limb (eBook)

THREE

‘That feels so good.’ I sigh blissfully, letting my belt fall to the floor of the en-suite bathroom. I open the drawer under the sink that Sarah keeps stocked with an obscene amount of toiletries and find everything I might need for a quick refresh.

I fetch floss, mouthwash, deodorant, and a few makeup wipes for a quick downstairs clean. It may throw off my pH balance, but that’s Win of tomorrow’s problem.

I hear a soft knock, followed by a creaking door opening, then shutting in the adjoining room.

‘I’ll be out in a minute!’ I call, removing some of the dark eye makeup I smeared on before the party.

‘This is their guest bedroom?’ Bo asks from the other side of the door, clearly impressed.

‘You’re in finance, right? How much do you think this house is worth?’ I ask before taking a shot of mouthwash and swishing it around my mouth, then trying to quietly spit it out.

He laughs but doesn’t humor me with a guess.

I toss my head forward, using my forearm and the crook of my wrist alongside my left hand to gather all of my hair into a high pony. I take off the leather skirt and boots but leave my white blouse – with extra buttons undone – and fishnet tights on.

With a few centering breaths, I apply some lip gloss, smack my lips together, and attempt to gather every shred of confidence required to open the door to the bedroom.

Sarah’s guest room is decorated in gray moody wallpaper and dark floors with a small chandelier in the center of the room. I dimmed all the lights to a soft, flattering glow before making a mad dash to the bathroom. In the middle of the room, there’s a queen-sized bed covered in a crisp white linen duvet, taupe knitted blankets, and throw pillows.

Bo sits on the edge of the bed, facing the doorway that I’ve yet to move from. The moment he spots me, he automatically lowers his hand to his lap and adjusts his trousers. Which does great things for my ego.

‘Damn,’ he says, his jaw working. He leans forward, chuckling to himself in an agonized, bittersweet manner before he looks up at me through half-closed eyes. I’m struck by the illusion of power born from the eager look on Bo’s face telling me that he’d ask how high if I simply said jump.

‘I took off some of the… stuff,’ I say, holding on to the doorframe for balance.

‘I can see that.’ Bo wets his lips. His hands rub up and down his own thighs as if they’re seeking out friction of any sort. ‘It’s a good look.’ He clears his throat, sitting up slowly. ‘Great – you look… great.’ He smiles, but his eyes don’t – they remain raptly focused on me.

I take five steps toward him on pointed toes, stopping between his parted knees. His hands find the backs of my legs, just under my ass. They’re tense as they roam over my skin covered in thinly netted tights. Even with him sitting down, my face is only slightly above his.

‘I guess you were kidding about the sexy maid costume, then,’ he says, his hands roaming from the backs of my knees to the crease below my ass, his thumbs playing with the strings criss-crossing my thighs like a harp.

‘Disappointed?’ I ask, leaning forward. The tip of my ponytail falls against the hollow of his cheek. Bo tilts his nose toward it, and his eyes close briefly as he breathes in.

‘Only a little.’ He moves one hand from the back of my thigh to the nape of my neck and pulls me closer, tilting his jaw up to press his lips to mine.

‘Maybe next year,’ I whisper just before our mouths collide.

Our kiss is exploratory at first. Gentle but intentional. It isn’t until Bo’s other hand reaches my waist that it grows heated – teeth tugging, hands pulling, mouths crashing. I climb into his lap, my knees straddling his hips, and moan unwittingly when he tilts up into me as he leans back – the feeling of him just between my thighs.

‘I fucking love Halloween,’ he practically growls against my lips, smiling even still.

All I think is off.

Take my clothes off.

Let’s get each other off.

Help me turn my brain off.

‘I can’t really do other people’s buttons,’ I say, peppering kisses along his jaw toward his ear, my voice raspy. ‘I mean, I can do it but… slowly.’

‘Take all the time you need,’ he says, words parted by tender kisses on my neck that have my eyes drooping, weighed down by heady lust.

I move my left hand to the center of his chest and find the first button of his shirt. I go down from there, one at a time, unbuttoning the best I can.

Bo begins undoing my shirt. At first, I think he’s teasing me with a slow, seductive unraveling. But then I realize he’s matching my pace purposefully, clearly slower than he’s capable of, for my benefit. Which is just as sexy as if he was teasing me. Maybe even more so.

It is also, tragically, one of the larger romantic gestures of my life.

Once his shirt is open, I push it off his shoulders and down his arms, kissing feverishly as I go.

Once my shirt is off, I lean back and let my hands wander across his chest as my eyes drink him in. He’s got freckles across the tops of his broad shoulders and chest, sprinkling down his biceps before fading to just a few spots on his forearms.

I trace them with my hand, like drawing out constellations in the night sky as I lean in to kiss him again. He stops me by ducking his head lower, sucking at the top of my breast that has spilled over the cup of my bra.

I whimper, pushing my tits out toward him. His eyes flick up to me, watching my reaction as he kisses across my chest. My breath turns short and shallow as he tugs my flesh between his teeth and grips my hips tighter.

I place my right hand on the back of his head, desperately trying to take hold of his hair and keep him in place. Then shame creeps in. I drop my smaller hand off his head and over his shoulder, hearing the words of my ex loud in my ear. Don’t. No, use your other hand.

‘I liked that,’ Bo says, mouth and nose pressed under my collarbone as he kisses his way up toward my neck. He places my hand back where it was among his hair. I try my best to thread my short fingers through it, gathering as much as I can between my thumb and the side of my palm to pull.

Bo groans in response, so I do it again as he sucks on my pulse point under my ear, his hair brushing softly against my chin.

‘I love how you smell,’ I say, conscious of the panting breaths between us growing more urgent.

‘You too. Like candied apples.’ He presses his nose into my hairline, his lips against the edge of my jaw. ‘It makes me want to…’ He tenses, his mouth opening and his teeth lightly dragging across my chin. ‘God,’ he breaks the word into two syllables, laughing without humor.

‘I want you,’ I say breathlessly.

‘Will you lie down for me?’ he asks, gentle tone spoken against my cheek. ‘I want to see all of you.’

I nod demurely, moving off his lap and crawling toward the middle of the bed. Lying down, I soak in the feel of the luxurious linen on my bare arms and back. It’s all so soft that it turns me on even more. The feeling of the sheets against my skin and the sound of feather-filled pillows envelops me.

Bo moves to the foot of the bed, standing only in his black trousers. I watch as he takes off three rings without removing his eyes from my body. The rings clatter to the floor around his feet, but he doesn’t seem to care where they fall.

I rise onto my elbows, grinning in satisfaction at how Bo’s hair is already sticking up on all ends. It only gets messier as he rakes his hands through it again.

He’s losing his mind over me.

‘Win,’ he says, my name an anguished plea, shaking his head. ‘Fucking look at you.’

‘Yes?’ I ask, feigning innocence as my smirk only grows. I didn’t even say he couldn’t touch me or move closer, yet he’s distressed. He’s using all the self-control he has to make this last as long as we both want it to.

Admittedly, I love this feeling. The power I’ve harnessed while laid out on my back. The way my body can turn someone crazed. It’s the most in control I ever feel, next to being in the lifeguard tower on the beach.

He points at my knees with both hands. ‘Open those for me, honey.’

Honey? Hmm, I think I like it.

I dig my heels into the mattress, popping my knees up as I slide my legs apart.

‘Like this?’ I ask sweetly.

‘Yes,’ Bo answers, teeth bared around his knuckles. ‘Just like that,’ he says slowly before flicking his hair out of his eyes.

I splay my fingers across the band of my tights around my waist and follow the side seam down to my hips. Then I trace a string cutting against the thickest part of my thigh. ‘Would you take these off?’ I ask, toying with them.

Bo nods like a man possessed, bending over the bed to reach for my waist. He pulls the tights down in one strong, fluid motion until they’re off and resting over his shoulder. I thought that was an accident, and he’d soon discard them to the floor, but he’s keeping them close with a tight grip as he moves his opposite hand up the inside of my leg.

‘Win,’ he says, nearly whimpering. ‘Who...