He smiles as he lifts and sits me on the kitchen counter, pulling my dress up so he can stand between my legs.
His lips drop to my neck and he bites my skin softly. “Why is that?”
“I’m not an Escape girl,” I whisper and my eyes close at his sucking and nibbling.
Dear God.
“You’re my Escape girl,” he breathes on my neck.
Oh… he feels so fucking good.
The crystal beads underneath my behind hurt pressed against the hard counter, and I shuffle around to try and get comfortable.
“Is that dress uncomfortable?” he asks as he wraps his arms around me and holds me close.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Let me take it off you.”
My eyes search his.
He lifts me down and turns me away from him. My heart begins to dance as he slowly releases the zipper. The dress drops. I slowly step out of it and turn to face him. Wearing my white lace panties and bra with suspender belt and stockings, I know I look like an Escape girl right now. His eyes drop down my body and then back up to meet mine.
“You’re as beautiful as I remember you.” He kisses me softly.
“What else do you remember about me?” I breathe.
“Everything.” He kisses me again as he holds my jaw. “I remember the way you smell. The way you kiss.”
My heart stops as he kisses me again.
“Your smart ass personality and your perfect mind.”
My hands rise to his broad shoulders that are covered in that suit. He’s wearing way too many clothes.
“More than anything, I remember the way you made me feel,” he murmurs against my neck.
Oh God. His open lips run from my jaw to my neck, back to my jaw, and then to my mouth. “How did I make you feel?” I breathe as his lips drop to my collarbone. Oh hell. How am I supposed to hold an intelligent conversation with this man while he is doing this to me?
“Something.”
“Something?” I repeat.
He stands and I look up into his eyes. “You made me feel something I’d never felt before.”
“Like what?”
He shakes his head softly. “I don’t know.” He narrows his eyes. “I haven’t put my finger on it yet. I only know that I’ve thought about you over the years… a lot.”
I smile softly. “Is that so strange?” I ask as I raise my brows.
He smiles sexily. “For me? Yes.”
“You usually forget women you’ve been with?” I frown.
He shrugs. “Perhaps.” He picks up his glass and sips his champagne. “I never forgot you, though.”
I watch him for a moment as the pull to him increases at an alarming pace. “You getting soppy on me Stanton?”
He smirks. “You prefer dirty?’
Our eyes hold each other’s and the electricity swirls between us.
“I prefer filthy dirty,” I whisper.
He raises his eyebrow sexily. “This may be your lucky night then, Bloss, because filthy dirty happens to be my specialty.”
He picks up his glass and holds it high. “I would like to propose a new toast, actually.”
“My name is Ashley, not actually.” I smirk.
He narrows his eyes and winks sexily. I smile and hold my glass up to his.
My eyes drop to his tongue as it darts out to lick his bottom lip, and I feel it all the way down there.
“To sop-free, filthy, dirty fucking,” he announces.
I laugh and repeat. “To sop-free, filthy, dirty fucking.”
He puts his glass down and his eyes darken. “Get in my bed now before I pummel that fucking ass of yours on the counter.”
I laugh. “There he is.” My eyes dance with delight. “I thought you’d gone all soft on me.”
He shakes his head and pulls on a drawer to retrieve a wooden spoon. My eyes widen as excitement shoots through me. He points toward the stairs with the spoon. “Upstairs,” he mouths.
“Make me,” I breathe.
His eyes flicker with arousal. “You’re going to fucking cop it, Bloss.”
I laugh into my champagne flute.
“Now!” he barks.
I stand as I bite my bottom lip to try and stop myself from smiling like a goon.
“Upstairs.”
“Is that where I get to suck your dick, sir?” I ask sweetly.
He laughs, enjoying this game as much as me. He turns me and marches me up the split staircase.
“If you behave.” He swats me hard across the behind with the wooden spoon and I yelp.
“Ouch,” I half laugh, half cry out. That fucking hurt. My hands go to my behind to sooth the smarting.