Page 42 of The Bad Girl and the Baby

He dropped her on the bed and then switched on the lamp—he wanted to see every second of this.

She lay resting on her elbows, looking up at him, a challenge in her eyes. But what was she challenging him to? He had an idea this might turn into a fight for dominance, and the idea turned him on fiercely.

He remembered how she’d looked at him last week. She’d liked looking at him. He tugged his shirt from his pants and unbuttoned it, her gaze following his every move. He shrugged out of the shirt then dropped it on the floor.

“You’re doing the striptease thing again,” she murmured.

“You like the striptease thing.”

“Perhaps.”

“So do I. Take your top off.”

Would she?

“You’re good at giving orders, aren’t you?”

“You want to call me sir?”

“Not in a million years.”

He grinned. “Take your top off…please.”

Her hands went to the hem, and she pulled it off over her head and threw it on top of his shirt.

“Lie back.”

This time she didn’t argue; she just lay back on the bed and raised her arms above her head, pushing her breasts into the air. They were small but full and perfectly shaped, with hard little nipples, dusky pink.

His dick got even harder, so it was pressing almost painfully against his fly. He fumbled with his belt buckle, not taking his gaze off her lithe form. All long and slender and graceful. He unbuttoned his pants, almost groaning as he lowered his zipper. Then he moved toward her, pausing at the end of the bed to look at her some more.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Her eyes opened, and she stared up at him. “So are you.”

She was naked except for the tight black leggings. He wrapped a hand around each ankle and parted her legs, then came down on one knee between them. She didn’t move, but she was as turned on as he was—he could see it in the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. Her lower lip was clamped between her teeth.

He reached out and covered one breast with his palm, squeezed, then turned his attention to the other. He trailed a finger over her taut nipple and her back arched. Lowering his head, he stroked her with his tongue then sucked her into his mouth. Finally, he bit down gently, and a groan escaped her throat.

His cock pulsed. Next time, they’d take it slow. This time he needed to be inside her, and fast.

He stood up, shucked out of his pants, kicking off his dress shoes and socks. By the time he came down on the bed, he was naked and more than ready.

“Shit,” she said. “That is one seriously pretty cock.”

He didn’t think his cock had ever been called pretty before. He grinned, wrapped his palm around himself and squeezed. “And it’s all yours.”

“That’s nice. Tell me you have a condom.”

“Brand new packet in the cabinet by the bed.”

She rolled onto her back, came up on all fours, and crawled up the bed. His eyes fixed on her ass. She reached out, opened the drawer, and tossed him the packet, looking at him over her shoulder. “Prepared. I like that.”

“I bought them last week,” he said, his mind not really on the conversation. “Shortly after we’d had our little talk about how this was never going to happen.”

Then he’d had enough of talking. He leaned toward her, hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings, and then slowly peeled them down over her hips and legs. She lifted each up to assist him. Beneath them, he could see the black lace of a thong almost hidden between her ass cheeks. He divested her of that last item as well and then sat back on his heels and stared.

Her ass was rounded, her thighs slender, and the curls between them pale blond. She glanced at him over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

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