Page 164 of Nest of Thieves
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Sighing, I knock on Lark’s door. “Come on. It’s been five minutes.”
“This was a bad idea,” he says.
“You promised you’d do whatever I wanted,” I remind him, snapping. “All I had to do was snap and you’d do it.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d make me...whatever. Fuck it.” The door opens, revealing Lark in three-inch heels and a hot pink dress that somehow looks hot as fuck on him.
My mouth drops.
I don’t laugh, but Vette and Mac do. Lark glares at them before stepping toward me, staring me down.
“Happy?”
“How? I didn’t expect it to look so good.” I brush my hand over the fabric molded to his abs.
He cocks his hip. “Am I done?”
I shake my head. “Fuck, no. Strut for me, princess.”
Growling, he brushes past me and awkwardly walks in the heels. I stifle a laugh as Vette and Mac lose it. Mac slides off the couch, clutching his stomach. Vette straight up giggles. Lark flips them off and turns around, glaring at me.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” I sing-song. “Goddamn, Lark. Those legs.” I check him out again and frown. “No more dresses for you. I’m the only one allowed to be pretty.”
Lark smirks. “Aw, babe. Are you jealous?”
“Shut up and take it off.” I point to his bedroom.
“Simon didn’t say.” He struts over, gaining a little confidence in his gait.
I narrow my and snap. “Take it off.”
“Leave it on!”
“Shut up, Mac,” I hiss. “You’re not in charge.”
His shoulders shake, and I roll my eyes, ignoring him and Vette to look at Lark. “Take the damn thing off.”
“You’re so cute when you’re jealous.” He bumps my chin with his finger as he passes me.
I huff and follow him into his room, slamming the door. He’s in the middle of unzipping the hot pink dress but pauses and looks at me.
“You said to take it off, right?”
He’s worried he didn’t follow instructions, totally oblivious to how fucking needy I am.
Kicking my foot against the door, I nod and jut my chin in his direction. “Take it off.”
Understanding flashes across his face, and he continues unzipping it, letting the fabric pool at his feet. The heels point out how well defined his calves are, and I watch as he slips those off before slowly turning around, palming his erection.
“Maybe I should wear dresses more often.”
“Get on the bed.” I don’t snap but he does as he’s told. Once he’s reclining on the pillows, I strip, keeping an eye on him while I do it.
He lazily strokes his cock, gaze full of fire and want. Sans clothes, I prowl toward the bed, hips swaying in that dark, feminine way that fills me with a sense of power. Lark’s hand falls away from his dick when I place my hands on the mattress and stare at him through my eyelashes.
