“You look amazing, Isabella.”
The dark, husky tone of Houston’s voice sliced through my inner pep talk and made my heart stutter for a moment before it sped up.
I looked up in the mirror to see him standing at the back of the room watching me.
I wiped away the momentary uncertainty and smiled.
“You like?”
He prowled forward, the darkness in his gaze growing more intense with every step he took in my direction. He didn’t stop until he’d pressed against my back and I felt the hard ridge of his thick erection nestling in the curve of my ass.
My ability to breathe ceased. My already simmering blood went into a full out boil as I leaned back and lolled my head to the side.
Who had I been kidding during my little mental rant? I clearly had no control when it came to him.
One look. One touch. My body responded to everything about him. The rest of me might have a lot of opinions about everything to do with him, but instincts were still instincts.
“I more than like,” he growled into my exposed neck a moment before I felt the nip of his teeth. “I’ve been watching you and all I can think about is bending you over.”
He grabbed the back of my neck and gently squeezed, exerting just enough forward motion to make me grab at the back of the chair in front of me for balance.
“Houston,” I gasped, hardly aware of anything but the sexual tension now running through me. Who was this man?
I studied him in the mirror as his mouth worked at my throat and his free hand wrapped around my front and into the vee between my thighs. I had no doubt if there were not two layers of silk between his hand and my pussy, his fingers would be drenched with my arousal.
“This dress,” he growled, his fingers digging harder into my flesh.
