you from the premises.”
“Well, how will you know what I want, then?” he teased, his voice a husky murmur that sent another spasm of wet anticipation rushing to Leanne’s sex. “After all, aren’t I the customer? What if I’m not satisfied?”
She pushed him down firmly and he sank back into the wide cushions, his legs spread wide, his erection visible through his wool trousers. She ran a taunting fingertip around the rigid shape before sashaying across the tiny room toward her stereo. When she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder and winked saucily.
“As a valued client, you can make suggestions while I dance,” she said. “But I make no promises. When I’m performing, I’m afraid my pleasure comes first. Occupational hazard.”
He laughed out loud but waited obediently as Leanne flicked through her playlist, looking for just the right song. Too fast. Too sappy. Too slow. But then she found the perfect one and her lips curled in anticipation. Clicking the icon, she set the tiny player in the docking port and turned the volume up as the opening notes of Edith’s Piaf’s “La Vie En Rose” filled the small space.
She began to sway tentatively to the music. She raised her hands to the thin straps lying across her shoulders. Trying her best to move in time to the music, she worked the straps down, inch by slow inch.
And then, as she clutched the edge of her dress to the tops of her breasts, reality set in.
She felt a little silly.
Actually, make that a lot silly as she turned and nearly took out a potted plant resting near the edge of the small table. She didn’t need to make a spectacle of herself. Hell, all she wanted right now was to take him to bed and have him fuck her, fast and hard. This…this was just a joke. No one could ever be turned on by the sight of two-left-footed Leanne Galloway struggling out of her clothes.
“Look,” she said, “this is…”
“The sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Brandon growled. “Don’t stop. You look fantastic.”
She was stunned at the raw arousal on his face. His desire, his excitement and was that awe?
Awe? Seriously? Of her?
She wanted to turn and double-check that there wasn’t another semi-naked woman in the room responsible for the look of amazement and sexual heat on his stunning features.
Even in the dim light, she could see the dull flush across his high cheekbones and the glittering light of awareness in his eyes. He’d loosened his tie and it hung haphazardly from his neck. His crisp shirt was rucked from his waistband. He looked tousled and edgy and totally turned on.
He was gazing up at her like he’d never seen anything so desirable in his life, and suddenly Leanne wanted to see herself through his eyes. Eyes that saw her as sultry and adventurous and sexy as hell. It felt good.
No, it felt better than good. It felt fantastic.
She remembered how wild, how uninhibited she’d felt when they’d made love in the green room. It had been messy, unexpected and without a doubt, the best sex of her life. She wanted to feel like that again.
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she listened to the lyrics pouring through the speakers and tried to let go of herself and her fears.
Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose.
Edith’s knowing voice crooned the timeless love song and Leanne moved seductively to the beat. In her mind, she saw herself as Brandon did. Through his eyes, she could see herself tinted by rose-colored shades. When he took her in her arms, she felt beautiful and desirable. She wasn’t just a bookworm or an academic in an ivory tower. She was a woman in touch with her most intimate desires. A woman who knew how to ask for what she needed and give pleasure in return.
And now, she wanted to show him just how much she’d learned in their brief time together.
Threading her hands into her hair, she let it cascade in waves over her hands. She imagined his fingers running through the tousled strands, grasping them as he plundered her mouth. She rolled her hips and began to slowly strip away her dress, letting it fall past her breasts, her stomach and over her generous, curving hips. Inch by inch, the dress trailed lower, revealing more and more of her skin. It dropped to a puddle on the living room floor and