Page 61 of Mr. Dangerous

He was grinning down at me, right up until I wrapped my mouth around his cock, and then I heard himbreathein.

I took his long, solid length in my hand and traveled up and down his shaft. His blue eyes watched me intently, his fingers resting in my hair, and then his eyes drifted shut in pleasure. My jaw began to ache with the effort, but his fingers in my hair were so tender and sweet and I loved seeing him give up control to me. It just spurred me to greater efforts, moving up and down his cock until I felt his muscles tense, his head falling back, and he filled mymouth.

I wiped my lips quickly, turning away slightly, as I stood. He caught me around the waist. I looked up at him in surprise for a second as he kissed me, and I felt an electric tinglebetweenus.

“My turn,” he said, grinning roguishly, and that expression sent a jolt of desire through me all over again, as if I weren’t already madwithit.

I made a show of checking my watch. “Quick.”

“I can be quick,” he promised. “But nottooquick.”

He caught my hand and pulled me across the foyer to the long mahogany table, adorned with swaying orchids, that stood between the two twisting staircases. I flashed a mischievous grin at him over my shoulder right before he bent me over the table, and I caught myself with my palms flat against the cool wood. Behind me, he rolled the condom on, and then I felt the tip of his cock tease between mythighs.

I shoved back against him. After all, we were inarush.

His cock slid inside me smoothly, so satisfying that I felt my back arch. With his hands firm on my hips, he began to pump into me steadily. Every time he shoved all the way inside me, I felt a wave of satisfaction that made mytoescurl.

“Rob,” I murmured, just before I came, hard, around his cock. I let myself slump forward on my elbows on the table, gasping as my core tightened wildlyaroundhim.

“Yeah?” he said. There was a self-satisfied note to his voice, like he enjoyed the way I said his name when I wascoming.

I turned, already pulling up my jeans, even though my knees felt weak. I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction when he was already so damn cocky. Even if he had good reasontobe.

“We’ve got to go pick up Liam,” I said, my voice brisk and matter-of-fact. As if I didn’t feel weak-kneed and languid, eager to let myself fall intohisarms.

"Liam, right," he said, looking disappointed. "Well, he should be grateful you're looking out for him. I'd just leave him at the airportwhileI--"

I ducked away from his warm wandering hands, but I couldn’t help laughing. "Okay, you. Did you lock up downstairs when you came in fromyourswim?"

"Not yet." He started to turn back toward the stairs, but I wavedhimaway.

"It's all right," I said. "You, go put on something presentable. I'll take care of the house. Asusual."

"Thank you," he said. He dropped a kiss into my hair as hepassed.

I slid past him and ran down the basement steps. Maybe this weekend, while he was with Liam, I'd be able to get some distance and make sense of how to handle the Robert DelaneySituation.

I reached the bottom of the stairs, looking out over the rich cherry floors of the rec room, and realized that as much as I knew I couldn't trust him with my heart, I also shouldn't trust him to put his damn towels in the washing machine. His towel was dripping wet, tossed over the arm of the gray linen couch. I picked it up, regarding the wet spot it left behind in dismay. What was hethinking?

He wasn't thinking. He was rich. He didn't have tothink.

It was his stuff to ruin, but the fact that it was all his and he cared so little about it just made me feel more irritated. I took the towel to the laundry room, feeling my shoulders growing tense. I thought of my ridiculous marriage fantasy earlier and felt a prickling sense of my own stupidity. No one marriedthemaid.

I went back upstairs. I could hear the shower running. I hesitated, but he had left the door ajar and the sheets, the damn sheets, were still my job. Iwentin.

As I stripped off the old sheets and bundled them in my arms to take to the laundry chute down the hall, I breathed in the salty scent of the ocean and the pleasantly musky, warm smell of Rob's body as well as that peppermint soap. The scent brought me right back to his panting face close to mine, his eyes dark with lust. I felt a ripple ofdesire.

The shower cut off. I hurried to get a set of clean, ironed sheets from the linen closet. My heart rate sped up in a hurry to get out of the room before Rob caught me in the act of tending him. It’s what I was paid to do. I didn't know why it seemed so important to get out of his room before he came out of the bathroom, but now I regretted stripping his bed. As I spread the crisp sheets across the mattress, running my hand across expertly to smooth every last wrinkle before tucking the sheets in tightly, I breathed in the honeysuckle scent of linen spray. It was another of the thoughtful touches my parents had taught me as I worked in the family business, and s normally loved to inhale deeply as I made up the beds. Today, though, the light floral scent seemed pale in comparison to Rob's deep, manlyscent.

"You don't have to do that," he said from the doorway. He was, thankfully, dressed, in dark jeans and a button-down shirt. "Trust me, I don't sleep on fresh sheets every nightathome."

"It's in the contract," I said, straightening to toss his pillows side-by-side against the headboard. They fell crooked, and I immediately regretted the moment of carelessness. "Anyway,it'sdone."

"But I'm in a hurry to muss the sheets again," he murmured, closing the distance between us. His eyes were going dark and soft, those bedroom eyes again, but then he paused. "Did you roll your eyesatme?"

"Did I?" I wasn't sure; I certainly hadn't meant to roll my eyes. Not at a client. "Anyway, don't tell me I don't need to do something that's part of my job. It's not like doing this is demeaning. It's my work, it'svaluable."

"Of course it's not demeaning," he said. "I never said that. I didn't want you to waste the effort,that'sall."

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