Page 30 of Hustle

God, she’s amazing. I try not to think about the PR fallout and legal exposure we might have to deal with tomorrow. But tonight?

Just soaking up the fact that she’s a total badass.

She rests her bare foot on my thigh, and I can’t help but stare. She has beautiful feet, smooth and long, with toenails painted dark red. I can’t say that a foot has ever turned me on, but there’s a first time for everything, it seems. I set down my glass, and wrap a hand around her foot.

She jumps in surprise, but then lets out a little noise of pleasure when I knead the balls of her foot and run my knuckle down the long line of it. I focus, following exactly the steps that I’ve memorized at the spa where I’ve had this done. I can’t imagine wearing the heels she does without daily foot rubs.

Her head is thrown back, her eyes half closed. Fuck yes, I love the sight of Evi in pure pleasure. I’d love to show her more pleasure, but we’re walking a dangerous line.

“Didn’t peg you for a foot guy,” she murmurs and I look at her hard, my hands slowing.

Her toes wiggle in my hand insistently as she adds, “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Her feet could be the only thing I’m touching tonight, I remind my fading resolve, and I’m going to make it count. I don’t think a foot has ever been as thoroughly kneaded, massaged, and caressed as hers.

The noises she’s making suggest that it’s more than just her tension level dropping and my body is getting a whole different set of messages. She’s practically moaning with pleasure, and I love every minute of it.

She slides over next to me. “Your turn.”

I look at my feet, which are huge compared to hers, and she makes a noise in her throat.

“Yeah, no. I don’t do feet. Shoulders.” She motions for me to sit on the floor, and then swings her legs to either side of my body, positioning herself behind me. My eyes are lingering on her long legs so close I could touch them.

That sounds like fucking heaven. My mind goes back to her gentle caress of my shoulder in the bar, and every nerve fiber in my body is alert as she starts rubbing slow circles on my shoulders. I’m imagining the best, most relaxing, most exotic massage I’ve ever had.

That’s when she digs in her elbow. “Holy shit, Seamus. You’re rock hard.”

I glance down, and a little snort escapes.

“Your shoulders,” she says very close to my ear. I can hear the grin in her voice, but don’t have time to really consider it as an explosion of pain and then release follows from my right shoulder.

“Thai massage, it’s the best,” and she’s throwing her full weight into her elbows to work out the tension. Take it from Evi to get right to the source. It hurts like a motherfucker, and I groan a little. But it hurts in a way that I weirdly like.

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t ease up, for several minutes. By the time she’s done, I can move my neck and roll my shoulders a hundred times better than the expensive sports massage I get every week.

Turning to her, I start to say something, but what comes out is, “You’re magic.”

Her eyes are just an inch or so from mine, and she’s throwing so much heat I can barely breathe. She knows what she wants. She gets what she wants. And there’s absolutely no mistaking what Evelyn McCallum has her sights set on tonight.

I lean over and capture her mouth with mine.

I’ve worked hard to be a good kisser, the kind of lover that women enjoy and want to see again. But this isn’t an artful kiss. It’s hungry and deep, lips clashing. My tongue slides into her mouth, probing, exploring, and when it hits her tongue stud, I can’t suppress a groan.

She does something amazing with it that has my vision darkening to almost black. My hands run down the slides of her body, and I can feel my self-control dissolving into the force that is Evi.

She’s pulling her shirt over her head, and seconds later I have her bra off. My fingertips skim over her nipples where I again touch hot metal. Holy shit.

I want this woman more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. She whimpers against my mouth in response, and I’m honestly not sure that I’m going to hold it together.

There’s absolutely no way that I’m going to lose control. No way.

Evi pulls back, and the absence of her mouth feels like it crushes my soul.

She looks into my eyes, sending daggers of pure heat in my direction. There’s nothing helpless or innocent there. It’s raw dark desire in the eyes of a woman who is unafraid of what she wants, and I make an almost primal sound in response.

The layers are dissolving. Harvard law training? Gone.

Polished exterior? Gone.

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