Authors: Sloane Taylor
ragan stood outside the bathroom door. His lips twitched as Lacey’s muted off-key tones sounded through the thick wood. The familiar words of the popular American song came from a generation different from his, one his young staff bellowed through his halls while their too often worn iPods dangled from their ears.
He had raised his hand to knock when the panel flew open, and she stood before him in her sexy black-and-white high heels with that feathery thing draped around her shoulders. And that was all. A cloud of honey floated up to him. She had showered with the new soap he brought back from his last business trip to Munich. He put out his hands to steady her, but instead he caressed her soft shoulders.
Her eyes widened as she stood there.
“Lacey, I apologize. I was going to knock just as you opened the door.”
“Vic, aren’t we supposed to be somewhere important soon?” Her minty breath tickled his cheek. “So tell me, did you order the dress? Did Magda go for sexy or ultra elegant? Will my boa go with it?”
He wrapped a handful of pink feathers around his fist, skimmed his knuckles across her peaked nipples, and tugged her closer. Nothing would please him more than not to ever see another item cover her magnificent body. Perhaps that bow thing she had worn earlier. His cock must have liked the thought, too, if the pressure against his fly was any indication.
She tapped his shoulder and grinned as if she read his mind.
“The gown should be here within minutes.” He stroked her again and regretted their time constraint.
“You look very nice in a tuxedo.” Her fingers traveled along his lapel until she stopped at the small medal pinned to his breast pocket. The joy disappeared from her face. “What’s this? Are we going to a military function?”
“No, it is a dinner hosted by the International Technological Association of Scientists, remember?”
“Explain.” She flipped the silver double-headed eagle with a fingernail.
“Science and technology interest me.” He shrugged and hated to admit they were his true passions. His boyhood friends had harassed him enough through those poverty-stricken days. He did not need the woman he could not keep his hands off laughing at him. Only Arnost had taken him seriously and showed him the right path.
“And?” She cocked her head to the side while examining the one family heirloom he had been able to retain.
“A small remembrance of my family.” Heat crawled up his neck, and the damn bowtie seemed to have shrunk.
Before he confessed anything more, a discreet knock sounded on the suite door. A lanky bellman with a large box in hand craned his neck to look inside the room. Dragan snatched the package and dismissed him with a crisp nod.
Lacey peeked around the bedroom doorjamb and was tempted to waggle her fingers at the Ichabod Crane lookalike, until Dragan’s Marine Gunnery Sergeant take-charge voice stopped her dead. A mental image of her father in his greens with his basic cover low on his forehead almost put her in a cold sweat. She scurried to the bathroom, then tied the fleecy robe securely around her waist, as if the gray cloth could protect her.
“Where are you?”
She kneaded her temples and almost erased the unwanted images. The door pushed open as she cringed against the sink.
“There is nothing to worry you.” Dragan took a step forward with a big grin creasing his cheeks. “Your dress is here.”
“Great. Just doing a few last minute touchups.” She glanced in the mirror, plucked at a curl, then breezed past him, grateful her stupid moment had ended. “You know us girls. Always hate to leave the bathroom until we do one last check.”
A shiny white box wrapped in a wide gold ribbon sat on the rumpled bed. Excited to see what his friend had come up with, Lacey tossed the top to the side and rustled her way through a mountain of gold tissue paper. Inside lay an exquisite black silk gown that would make any woman feel like a queen. With great care, she lifted the dress by its shoulders and shook the delicate fabric free from any remaining tissue.
“My God, it’s gorgeous!” Afraid to wrinkle the smoky material, she turned toward the cheval mirror and gingerly held the sleek garment to her body. “The mid-calf length is perfect and this will fit.”
Dragan walked up behind her. His overpowering presence filled the extra mirror space, but not the void between her thighs.
“I do not wish you to wear panties tonight.” He massaged her shoulders, slipping the robe away. “I want to slide my hand along the inside of your thigh and feel your moisture on my fingertips before they slip inside you.”
Tingles played tag on her skin with each lusty word.
“You must sit perfectly still.” He nipped at her neck and pressed his wonderful hard-on into her back. “Can you do that while I caress you in public?”
Not a chance.
“Of course.” She snorted. “You only assume you have some magical sexual hold on me.”
His eyebrow shot up as a smirk spread his mouth. He didn’t believe one word, but hell, neither did she.
Another knock on the door ended what could have been fantastic sack time.
“Your shoes have arrived.”
He turned away. His swift movement created a cool breeze across her heated flesh.
Torn between her one love in life and miffed he thought she didn’t have decent footwear, Lacey laid the dress on the bed, smoothing a slight crease away, then high-tailed it into the living room.
Her hands itched to fling open the beige cardboard box, but he held it just out of reach. She stretched on her tiptoes. He raised the goodies higher.
“You don’t play fair.”
“True.” He took her elbow and marched her to a wingback chair. “Let me see if they fit.” He dropped to one knee and peeled off the lid to reveal sexy black suede sling backs. “
, your foot please.”
She crossed her legs. He caught her dangling foot in the palm of his warm hand. Heat streaked up her calf at the intimate contact more sensual than any foreplay.
“I don’t have nylons.” How stupid. Like the man had no eyes.
“Not a problem. I do.” He reached in his pocket and slipped out a fresh pair of thigh-highs.
Words would not form. Just a soft purr slipped out as he glided the sheer mesh over her pointed foot, then up her calf to her quivering thigh. His dark eyes smoldered as he ran his finger inside the lacy band. Of their own volition her thighs parted, offering him access.
A regretful expression appeared as he shook his head and raised her other foot. He stroked her skin until she fought not to come.
After both stockings were in place he fitted her feet into perfect supple leather that would be wearable for hours even with the silver stiletto heels.
She stood and the bathrobe fell open. His eyes skimmed up her legs and stopped at the triangle of curls she needed him to stroke before continuing to the rubies in her navel.
He reached out a hand, then stopped and rocked back on his heel. He was a beautiful man who held her in a web of constant desire.
“You must get dressed, Lacey.” Dragan glanced at his gold Tissot. “The car will be here any moment.”
Not wanting to end the euphoria, but knowing she had no alternative, she nodded and reluctantly walked to the bedroom.
Staccato taps on the outer door convinced Dragan his home had become a delivery warehouse.
“Tomas said to bring this right up to you, sir.” A skinny bellman handed him a smashed suitcase with a pair of bright pink yarn balls attached to the handle.
.” His curt thank you went unnoticed by the young man who edged to the side for a better look into the suite. Dragan cleared his throat.
“You are welcome, sir.” The boy bobbed his head.
“Is there something else you need?”
“No, sir, unless…”
“Go back to your duties. I am sure Tomas will supply you with more interesting people to visit tonight.” With that, he closed the door and hoisted the bag to the hall table.
Lacey’s bad humming carried to him as he unpacked for her.
He pulled out garment after chic tailored garment and hung them in the closet. He cocked an eyebrow at the contrast with the ridiculous costumes from her first bag. Lacey Blake was certainly a lady of contradictions.
“So your upscale digs come with valet service, eh?”
Dragan turned from his task to a woman any man would be proud to have on his arm. Her long hair was upswept into a mass of curls and offered a lickable view of her graceful neck. The ruby earrings dangling from her delicate lobes reminded him of the one in her navel. Glancing down her trim form, he had to stop himself from reaching for her and staying in for the night. The dress enveloped her body in a way that made him jealous of the fabric. He had no choice but to skim his eyes lower to the slit at the side. A groan rose in his throat.
, he hated the obligation to attend tonight’s dinner.
She pivoted. His cock lurched at the sight of her firm ass and no panty line.
“We never thought about a coat!” Her horrified expression made him laugh.
“Look in the closet.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. She turned and flung open the double doors. “This wasn’t here before.”
“A small surprise for you.” He reached around her and pulled out a short black cashmere jacket, the fabric soft as her creamy skin.
With the elegance of a queen, she draped the wool over her arm and walked to the door.
The elevator ride was the shortest of her life. She no more wanted to attend this soiree than she wanted to have a frontal lobotomy or see that asswipe Brad again. Right then she would have given up her precious rubies if allowed to return to the shelter of the suite.
Lacey had no Czech money should the need arise. Mama had always told her to have at least cab fare whenever she went out. Especially if she was with a man.
She sucked it up and was primed for another confrontation with pain-in-her-ass Tomas. Words failed the twit as he seemed to have swallowed his tongue, but his eyes were in overtime as they darted between her and Vic. The delight from his stunned reaction switched her mood to feisty.
“Hey, Tommy, you up for doing a little change thing here?” She bit her upper lip as his eyes bugged from their sockets.
“Madam.” He cleared his throat and fumbled with the few dollars she laid on the clutter-free counter. “Of course. Whatever you require.”
She tidied the short stack of bills, then slid them across the granite top and smirked when he dropped them to the rubber mat. He finally composed himself enough to return a fistful of
that made her believe she was a wealthy woman.
“You are unmerciful, young woman.” Dragan relieved her of the new jacket and laid it across her shoulders, then whispered in her ear, “A spanking tonight will teach you to behave.”
A whirlwind of tingles zipped through her as an image of her naked and spread over his big thighs popped into her mind.
Tommy. You have a good evening and remember to breathe.” Lacey waved a hand over her shoulder as she walked to the revolving door and fought the urge to do a generous butt wiggle.