Page 138 of Shame the Devil
She looked at him sidelong out of her golden eyes. “So the other ones are dirty.”
“Well,” he said, “I’m hoping.” And she smiled with that mouth, showing him the deep bow in the top lip, and opened her present.
“I know you don’t do much jewelry,” he said, when she’d opened the pale-blue Tiffany box tied with its white ribbon. “But I thought this would work.”
She opened the lid of the blue velvet box inside. “Oh.” It was a sigh. “It’s gorgeous.”
“It reminded me of you. Simple, but beautiful. Sort of … organic. Real. It’s called the Bone Cuff.” A wide, heavy, form-fitting cuff bracelet, asymmetrical and curving, like a wave.
She said, “It’s gold.” And put it on her arm then and there. It looked terrific. A tiny bit barbaric, gorgeously feminine and curvy, and a whole lot bold. Like her.
“Yeah,” he said. “I thought it had to be silver to go with the necklace, but the saleslady said no. Which was good, because I wanted gold. We did the one with the white jade insert, though, so it sort of … blends with the pearls. Mixing metals is a thing. I know that now.”
“It’s perfect,” she said, tilting her wrist back and forth and watching the gold shine. “It’s going to look amazing. I love that you didn’t buy me some delicate little thing. It feels like you know me, you know? The me I only half-knew was there.” She looked up at him, then, smiled with all the hidden mischief in her nature, and asked, “Can I wear the padlock tonight, too, do you think? OK to be that bold?” And he went from tender to hard in about one second.
“Yeah, baby,” he said, the lust twisting low in his belly. “You get to be that bold. You get to be every single thing you are. Open this one next.”
This box was tiny. Some more tease in her eyes as she said, “I have a feeling I might know what this is.” Then she opened it and said, “Oh. Wow.”
“Is that good or bad?”
She laughed. “It’s good. It’s gorgeous. And a little …”
“Barbaric. Yeah.”
She touched the tiny yellow gold barbell with the green stones set into the ball on either end. “So these are …”
“Emeralds. I was going to do diamonds, but emeralds are so much hotter.”
“Uh-huh. The gold matches my bracelet. Call that hidden matching. Just for you and me to know about.” And he got another of those hard twists.
She looked up at him, then. Slowly. The way that made his temperature rise. “Can I wear them both right now?”
He had to clear his throat. “Oh, yeah. You bet you can.” He shoved the final box at her. “The bracelet’s the main present,” he assured her. “This is more a present for me.”
“Gee,” she said, “I wonder what?” And once it was open, “Oh.” Pulling out one garment, after another, and holding them up.
They were silky pink fabric edged with black lace. They were filmy and delicate and pretty. They also had strategic openings, with the cups of the bra tied closed with black bows. The thong, he happened to know, was tied closed with nothing. And the black stockings were so sheer, you could barely see them.
He could tell when she realized about the thong, because her eyes went wide. He said, “I, uh, figured the garter belt still worked, because it could go … under the bump.”
She said, “You sure you want to see a nearly-twenty-one-weeks-pregnant woman in these?”
“No.” When she looked up, startled, he said, “I want to seeyouin these. In fact, I’m sort of dying to. You can pack them for tonight, or …”
“Oh,” she said, “I don’t think so.” She walked to him on her knees in the way that made his heart pound, straddled him where he was propped against the pillows, got her hands around his head, kissed him deep and dirty and ground into him some, which made his heart pound a whole lot more, then sat back and said, “Give me ten minutes.”
“Make it five.”
“Makeup. Messy hair.”
“Nope,” he said. “Five.” He got a hand under that nightgown, tugged on the little ring, and did some touching of his own. “You’re wet already. Five. I’m counting.”
And when she came out of the bathroom? Well, yeah. That worked. That was purely inspirational. Black lace, white skin, and curves.
And black stockings.
First, he laid her on her back, exactly the way he’d imagined, and took out the ring. Carefully. Gently. After that, he touched the hole with his fingers, and then, because there she was, right there and wide open, with his tongue. She moaned, and he said, “Yeah. Wait.”
