through me, I kneel down and tug an overnight bag from beneath the bed. Desmond’s hand appears in front of me, his blunt fingers sliding under the handle and lifting it on to the bed.
He squints an eye at me. “What do you think about letting me pack for you?”
My hands twist in front of me. “Oh, I don’t know…”
“If you pack for yourself, what will you bring?”
“Well, some pajamas, of course—”
“Quinn. You’re already overpacking.”
I sputter for a good five seconds. “Are you suggesting I’ll be sleeping naked?”
“You’ll be wearing me. That’s it.” He says those words so casually. Meanwhile, I’m tongue-tied watching him open my underwear drawer. “I had you pegged for a white panties girl.” He dangles one of my many white bikini briefs from his fingers. “I was right.”
My face warms. “That’s not all I have. There’s gray and beige in there, too. Probably.” I wave at him. “Sift around.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t a fan of the white ones, sweetheart.”
“Are you a fan?”
He makes a considering sound. “I’d have to see them on you to make that judgment.”
“You will be seeing them,” I say, breathily, my thighs feeling oddly liquefied. “Tonight, under the covers, in the glow of some tasteful lighting.”
A corner of his mouth edges up. “Damn, Quinn. You’re cute as hell.” He drops my panties back into the drawer and comes toward me, slowly. “You could show them to me now.”
My hand flies to my chest, wrapping around the locket. “But it’s so bright in here.”
“Quinn, you asked me to help make you more confident. Let me do my job.”
My nerves are running circles in my tummy. “How is this going to make me more confident?”
Desmond steps into my space and places his lips against the crown of my head. His male scent is wrapped in baking ingredients, thanks to the morning’s activities, and he smells incredible. I could bask for days in his aroma alone, but then his big hands cup my hips, squeezing, and sliding lower. The tips of his fingers inch under the edge of my dress, moving side to side, but not lifting.
“I’ll tell you why this is going to work. Seeing your panties is going to make me so hot, Quinn. I’m already hard…” he murmurs against my ear. “I’ve been hard since you walked out from behind the curtain this morning. But I’m going to get harder when you lift this dress. When you see what you’re capable of doing to my cock, you’re going to feel a lot more confident, aren’t you?”
My breath catches. “Y-you’re going to show it to me?”
His tongue traces the shell of my ear. “If you want to see it, yes.”
I do. Really bad. Is it worth biting the bullet and stepping outside my comfort zone so I can see that part of Desmond’s body? Yes. Yes, it is.
My nod is vigorous. “Okay.”
“Good girl,” Desmond says, his teeth catching my earlobe, his hands cinching my dress up and over my hips. I don’t realize until the cool air kisses my thighs that moisture is soaking through the crotch of my panties. Is he going to see that?
“I…um, I…”
His palms stroke down over my bottom, squeezing, and I forget my protests. There has never been anything more divine than his warm, strong touch cupping and massaging me so intimately, as if he’s my owner.
Desmond reverses our positions and walks me backward towards the bed, gently pushing me down onto the edge. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he grasps my knees and spreads them wide. My pulse is firing off like bottle rockets as he steps back, straightening to his full heights and running his gaze down to the juncture of my thighs. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, fisting his erection through his pants. “Look at what a hot piece you are.”
“A piece?” I breathe, feeling more moisture rushing down to slick my folds.
“That’s right.” He lowers the zipper of his pants, slowly. “You’re beautiful and smart, Quinn. Sweet as hell. But I forget about everything but getting my dick in that pussy when you show it off to me. That little honeypot between your legs looks like a tight piece of heaven, doesn’t it? God yeah, it does. I want to forget you’re a classy city girl and be rough with it.”
Have I melted into the mattress? I’m so warm. So tingly. “You do?”
“Fuck yeah, I do.” He drags his tongue along the masculine curve of his lower lip. “Grab the sides of your