Chapter Four
747 Words
“Tell me your name.”
The words left his mouth like a command. His gaze had shifted from sharp calculation to something heavier and filled with hunger.
I toyed with the stem of my glass, letting silence sit between us just long enough to make him lean forward. Then I said softly, “Sue.”
A flicker. Just for a moment. I saw in his eyes that he was trying to recognise that name, then I snapped him out of his thoughts. “Not the Sue you’re thinking of,” I added smoothly, tilting my head. “Just Sue.”
His jaw moved as though he didn’t believe me but he wanted to. He needed to. And right now, I had no intention of giving him clarity. Mystery was my ally.
The air grew heavier as his eyes dragged over me, a slow burn that traced every inch of my figure, lingering on the dip of my neckline, the way the silk dress clung to my curves.
I set the glass down deliberately, my fingers grazing the polished wood of the low table, and then leaned back against the couch.
“You keep staring,” I teased, my voice low. “Does that mean I’m winning?”
He gave a low laugh, the sound like velvet rubbed the wrong way. “Winning what?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I let my hand slide to my shoulder, curling around the thin strap of my dress. Slowly, I slid it down my arm, exposing the smoothness of my shoulder and the elegant line of my collarbone.
His eyes followed the motion, sharp and unblinking.
“Careful,” he said, though his voice had dropped, husky. “You don’t know what kind of fire you’re playing with.”
“Don’t I?” I whispered, and tugged the other strap down.
The silk slid down easily as my pulse thundered in my throat, but I held his gaze, daring him to look, daring him to lose that famed control.
And then without warning I reached behind me and pulled the zipper down.
The dress loosened instantly, sliding down until it pooled around my feet. I rose slightly, letting the fabric fall away completely, leaving me in nothing but the lace beneath, black, delicate, wickedly transparent. My breasts pushed against the fabric, n*****s stiffened by the chilled air and the heat of his stare.
The room went silent for a few seconds.
His breath caught and his pupils were blown wide as his hand flexed against the armrest of his chair. For the first time tonight, he was making the first move.
I stepped out of the discarded silk, barefoot now, every inch of me tempting.
“You asked my name,” I said softly, moving closer, the scent of my perfume blooming between us like smoke. “But names are overrated. What matters is what you feel.”
He swallowed hard, his composure cracking at the edges. He stared at me shamelessly now, over the swell of my breasts, the curve of my waist, the arch of my hip.
“You shouldn’t…” His voice was strained, almost hoarse. “You don’t know what you’re inviting.”
I leaned down, close enough that my hair brushed his cheek, close enough for my lips to hover at his ear. “Maybe I do.”
When I pulled back, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist firm, as though he needed to. His eyes locked with mine.
“You’re dangerous, Sue,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my wrist delicately.
“Maybe,” I whispered, a wicked smile curving my lips. “But you like dangerous. You told me yourself.”
His chest rose and fell, uneven now, his control slipping through his fingers. I could see the battle playing out inside him.
And I knew then I had him.
I straightened, letting my body linger within his, the swell of my breasts brushing his chest as I reached past him to place my empty glass on the table. His breath hitched, his hand tightening briefly on my wrist before releasing me, as if letting go took every ounce of willpower he had left.
I stood there in silence, letting him drink in the sight of me, letting the weight of his desire coil tighter and tighter until it was ready to snap.
And then, with the slowest, most deliberate smile I had ever worn, I whispered, “Your move.”
- Writer
