Page 58 of Fashionista's Playbook

“I warned you about looking at me that way.” He lifted his eyes to mine, wolfish and dangerous.

“Did you mean it, Travis? Would you beg?”

“I will, every damn time. I want you every second of every day, Mariposa.”

On trembling legs, I made my way slowly across the room. The lavish white rug that spanned the living area was soft and plush beneath my feet. I stopped and curled my toes into the fibers and bolstered my courage.

“And you want me, just like this, right now?”

He fisted his hands in the pillows and gripped them tight enough the whites of his knuckles showed. “Moriah,” he croaked.

The broken sound of his voice gave me the same rush of power I’d had on the couch, when I’d made him come. Just as sexy, but in a different way.

My body flushed with heat and my own arousal grew as anticipation pooled between my thighs.

He was broad, strong, and just the sheer size of him left me feeling feminine and sexy in a way no one else could.

“Tell me what you want.”

His response was a low growl, a wordless reply that told me everything I needed to hear. I smiled and hiked up my skirt, straddling his lap. The core of his desire pressed against the satin that covered my sex, and when he rocked his hips ever so slightly, I shivered.

Grumbling something unintelligible, Travis sat up straight. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

I had a pretty good idea.

Still, he didn’t touch me, just bit his lip and moved his crotch against me. The length of him stretched all the way across my groin.

“Driving you crazy?”

“You're damn right.” His eyes fluttered closed.

“Touch me.” I placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Please, Travis.”

At his name, his eyes snapped open. Blatant desire colored his gaze, danced in his dark eyes, and sent my heart tumbling to my stomach.

“Please,” I pleaded with a whisper.

“You first.”

Oh wow.

I ran my hands up and down the length of his chest. Over thick, muscled pectorals and explored the chiseled definition of his abs. Firelight glinted across his stomach, drawing attention to the various tattoos. “I want to trace each one of these with my tongue.”

With my palms flat, I traced the sculpted planes northward until I cupped his face. “All that tough guy stuff and yet, you’re so pretty, Madera.”

He laughed, the sound low and rich. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that.”

They should have. I leaned in, took his lips with mine, and explored his mouth in much the same way he’d done me back at the event.

Passion heated to a flash point between us, urging me to hurry, but I fought against it and took my time. We’d been rushed before. This time I was going to savor every bit.

When I broke the kiss, my skin tingled in anticipation and Travis shifted so I could rise above him. “Won’t you touch me now?”

“Sweet Jesus.” He grunted and stood in one swift motion, lifting me quickly as I scrambled to cling to him.

He stalked forward as the thrill of being carried as if I weighed nothing rushed through me. In front of the fire, he knelt on the ground and placed me gently on my back. With sure, steady hands he stroked his large palms up my legs to my thighs and pushed the dress higher.

“If this is what making you beg is like, I’m all for it.” I teased.

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