He took a long swallow of beer, the cool liquid rolling down his throat and at least quenching the fire there. It did nothing to cool the flame between his legs, though. Then again, nothing would. Not until he had Blair stripped, spread-eagled, and begging him to fuck her. Once those sweet words passed her lips, he’d drive his cock deep in her cunt and finally have what he’d wanted for fifteen long years.
He’d never needed a woman more than Blair. He’d always wanted Blair. And he knew damn well Blair wanted him. But she’d built this wall around herself where he was concerned. Instead, she spent her time with wimpy, useless, pansy-assed toadies who were worthless in and out of the bedroom. No wonder she never kept a man around for long. What good were they?
What Blair showed to the world and what Blair really needed were two different things. Sometimes Rand wondered if he was the only man who saw underneath that cool, controlling exterior to the frightened woman who was afraid to express her true needs.
All she had to do was say the word, and he’d open the world to her. He’d give her everything she’d ever wanted. He’d make her come over and over again.
Come on baby. You know I can give it to you. Just ask me.
Because the one thing Rand would not do is take. If Blair wanted it, she’d have to ask him for it.
Once she did, though, there’d be no going back.
if blair held this position for much longer, her back was going to go into spasms. It was like a game of chicken between them. A stare-down until one of them flinched. And she wasn’t about to flinch. But Goddamit, Rand was staring at her. And not just staring at her, but devouring her with his probing, enigmatic eyes that always seemed to be able to see right through her. As if he knew all her deep, dark secrets and was just waiting for her to blurt them out.
She’d made it this far. She was inside his house, she could see the line of his erection in his jeans and knew he was hot for her. Why the hell hadn’t he made a move on her yet? Did she have to do a striptease on his coffee table to get his attention? It wasn’t like she showed up at his place in her sexiest outfit on a regular basis.
Grab a clue, Rand. I’m here, I’m sexy and horny as hell. Fuck me, goddammit!
But no. He continued to stare at her as if he expected her to make the first move instead. Surely she hadn’t read him wrong all these years. He couldn’t be like all the other men she’d dated, could he? Spineless, weak, too afraid to take what they wanted? Had she misjudged him?
Disappointment washed over her, her mood souring so fast and making her stomach ache with such a hollow emptiness it almost made her cry. How could she have been so wrong about him? The games they played, the way he teased her, touched her, tormented her all these years with promises of the best sex of her life. No way could she have been wrong about her body’s reaction. No freakin’ way!
But still, he sat there, while she was all but spreading her legs in front of him. Was he waiting for an engraved invitation? Her verbal permission to come over and touch her? That so wasn’t like Rand, wasn’t at all like the man who’d damn near fucked her by the side of the road yesterday.
If it wasn’t for the bet, she’d get up and leave. Instead, she had to stay here and fuck this jackass who was beginning to annoy the hell out of her. Fine. The sooner she got it over with, the better. She stood, took a long guzzle of her beer, then swaggered over to the sofa, plopping herself down next to Rand. She tilted her head down and looked at him through lowered lashes, one of her sexiest moves.
“What is it that you want, Blair?” he asked, a slight smile curving along his generous bottom lip.
“You need me to spell it out for you?”
“I need you to tell me what you want. What you really want.”
His gray gaze challenged, daring her to be the one to say the words. But Blair was an expert at this game, knew how to manipulate men better than any woman she knew. She leaned into him, pressing her breast against the solid flesh of his arm. “Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to do?”
He shifted and pushed a knee in between hers, his gaze direct and intense. “I’m not the kind of man to tell you what I might like, Blair. I’m going to tell you what will happen if you stay here. I want you on your knees in front of me sucking my cock. I want to fuck that sassy little mouth of yours until I shoot a hot load of come between those beautiful lips. Then I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to tie you to my bed, your legs spread, your pretty pussy open for my view. I’m going to lick and suck your clit until you scream my name and beg me to fuck you. Then I’m going to drive my cock hard and deep inside until you’re squirming underneath me and pleading to come. After that I’m going to turn you over on your belly, spread those sweet cheeks and spear my dick between them into your tight ass. I’m going to fuck you all night long, all weekend long, until you can’t remember any man you’ve been with before, because no man has fucked you like I’m going to.”
Oh holy hell. The room temperature raised ten degrees in an instant, and she’d just gone up in flames. Blair swallowed, parting her lips to breathe in great gasps of air, stunned at the images his words created. No man had ever spoken to her like that. The men she chose damn near asked permission before kissing her. Rand had gone way beyond asking permission. He’d given her a graphic outline of every wicked thing he intended to do to her.
“My patience is wearing thin, Blair. You’re here, and I want you. You don’t want this, now is the time to say so, because I won’t be asking for a goddamn thing this weekend. I’ll be taking. You stay, you’re mine. Any way I want you, any time I want you.”
Oh, God. He knew. Somehow, he knew what she craved, knew what she hadn’t had all these years. All those men, they’d never known what kind of woman she was, what kind of needs she had. But Rand did. He was offering her everything she’d ever wanted, and everything she feared.
The one thing she wanted most of all, the one thing that scared her most: to completely submit to a man.
And not just any man, but Rand McKay.
Her body was on fire, her nipples hard and straining against the soft cotton of her top, her pussy juices coating the thin strip of panty covering her crotch. Her clit swelled, the knot throbbing with an incessant pulse. The thought of what he could do to her—what he could do for her.
He almost made her come yesterday without even touching her pussy. Without even rubbing her clit.
She’d had nothing but lousy sex for the past fifteen years.
She had a bet to uphold.
It was one weekend, not forever. The chance to throw out her inhibitions and give up control to a man. No commitment other than giving in to her deepest, darkest, most wicked desires.
Just for the weekend.
After the weekend, it was over. He had no power over her, no control, no expectation that this would last beyond the weekend.
What harm would it do to indulge in her fantasies, to experience what she already knew would be the greatest sex of her life? Quite possibly the only chance she’d have at such phenomenal sex.
It wouldn’t do any harm at all. As long as she remained in control, as long as she knew that once the weekend was over, this game was over.
As long as she didn’t involve her heart, then when the weekend was over, she could walk away with a smile on her face.