Chapter 4
After leaving Finn and Ward to discuss their R guest rooms on the lower floor; master on the top level with a wall that has small round windows overlooking the living room.”
“How kinky. So if you have guests, they can see you up there pleasuring yourself?”
“Not unless they use a ladder. If I had guests,” she said lightly. Knox didn’t press further—kids weren’t the point tonight.
“Any pictures on the walls?”
“Yes. A peacock over my bed. I like peacocks.”
“Are you sure you don’t just like talking in general, not just sex talk?”
She laughed again. “Yes, I like talking.” She went on, describing a sliding glass door leading to her balcony.
“You like to sit out there in just a robe, enjoying a glass of champagne?”
“Yes.” Her voice grew husky. “I love the view.”
“But sometimes someone can see you?” He already knew the answer.
“Sometimes,” she admitted.
She liked to be watched. He liked to watch. They were a perfect match.
“Do you always sleep naked?” He was curious about her habits, her likes, her dislikes.
“Yes.” Her answer was too simple, without the depth he craved.
“Are the curtains open?”
“Yes. I don’t like blinds. But I’m high enough on the hill that no one can see in.”
“No one?”
She laughed softly. He liked her laugh—sexy, seductive. “They’d need to have binoculars.”
“Do you like the idea that someone might spy on you with binoculars?”
“Only if he’s not a crazy stalker,” she quipped.
Peeping at a woman who didn’t know he was there had never been his thing. But he liked the idea of watching her through binoculars while they talked. He’d tell her the things he wanted to see, wanted her to do. A special performance just for him. “Would you like it if I was watching you now?”
He thought he heard the sheets rustle, as if she were stretching, her libido rising. “That might be fun.”
“I could tell you to push the covers all the way past your hips. And put your hand between your legs.”
“And you’d be able to see me?”
“Yes. I’d be the proverbial dirty old man beating off while I watch you through binoculars.”
“You don’t look like a dirty old man.”
“Oh, but I am. And I’d be compelled to watch you every night while you touch yourself for me.” There was a beat of silence, and he asked into it, “Are you touching yourself now?”
“I’ve been touching myself all along.”
His blood pumped faster. “Are you wet?”
“God, yes.” She moaned softly.
“I’d be watching you from afar and wanting to touch you. Taste you.” Then he added, because his need was so great, “Lick your finger. Tell me how you taste.”
Her breath came faster. Then she wasn’t breathing at all. And finally, she said, “I’m tart, with a little sweetness.”
He closed his eyes, groaned, because he couldn’t help it. The rhythm of his hand on his cock was slow, mesmerizing. He wanted it that way, wanted to build, not rush. But his voice was almost a croak as he said, “Tell me about your nipples, what they look like.”
Oh yeah, she was breathing fast. She sighed, gasped, and he imagined her fingers tweaking her nipple into hardness. “My nipples are tight beads, hard and pink. They always stand out, ever since I nursed the girls.”
He imagined taking one in his mouth, pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger until she moaned. “Do you ever go braless?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you like the feel of silk against your skin, the touch of it against your nipples when they stand out against the material?”
“Yes. I like the feel of silk caressing me as I walk.”
He realized he was creating the fantasy instead of letting her do the talking, but he didn’t care. “Do you go out in public like that?”
Her answer took longer. “Sometimes. On a Saturday afternoon, I like to walk in the park.”
“Do you like the way men look at you with your nipples on parade?”
“I enjoy being a sex object,” she admitted in a breathless voice. “Because men are sex objects too. I like to see what it does to them.”
And she was doing things to him. His skin flushed hot. His blood rushed through his veins, humming across his eardrums. “I’d like to see that. You walking in a park. I’d wear some skin-tight bike shorts so you could see exactly what you do to me.”
Her breath hitched, her moan soft. It could almost have been his imagination.
“How long were you married?” he asked.
She answered as if his question hadn’t come out of left field. “Nineteen years.”
“How long have you been divorced?”
“Three years.” This time her moan was deep, long, and the sound of it brought him close to the edge despite his slow rhythm.
Christ, it didn’t take much at all with this woman. She was special, with her kinky mind and lack of inhibition.
“Did you ever play games with your husband?”
“Yes. He loved for us to watch dirty movies together.”
Jesus, Knox would love it too. With her. “Did he ever send you out braless to the park on a Saturday?”
“Yes. We’d go somewhere, walk slowly, and he’d watch the way men looked at me. He told me to make eye contact once in a while, to really get them going. Sometimes I’d even lick my lips so they’d know I was thinking about going down on them.”
Christ, she was good. He didn’t know if the story was true, or if she’d made it up for him. And he didn’t care. He picked up the pace, stroking faster, his fist tighter around his cock. “Then he took you home and fucked the hell out of you?”
Her breath was out of control. “He’d barely let me get through the door.
I always wore a little skirt with no panties, so it didn’t take any time at all.
I was already wet. He was so hard. He’d push me down on the sofa or in the front hall or on the kitchen table, and he’d take me so deep and so hard. God, it was good.”
Then he asked the question that had been burning inside him since that night he’d listened to her on the phone. “Did he take you to that club and make you suck another man’s cock for him?”
As he imagined Summer sucking him and fucking him in front of her fantasy husband, his cock surged in his hand.
“God, I wanted it. I wanted it so bad.” Her voice was broken, her breath uneven, her words almost a moan and then a gasp. “He liked to watch me with other men. To watch me let go of everything, with the taste of cock in my mouth, the taste of come...”
He could taste her, the sweet, tart flavor on his tongue. “Then he’d tell the guy to fuck you?” Christ, he wanted it, wanted it so bad.
“Yes. He told him to fuck me right there so everyone could watch.”
His hand was like a piston as he imagined being the man who fucked her with all those eyes watching, her husband included. And he was close, so close.
“You loved it, didn’t you? All those eyes on you. His cock inside you while they watched.”
“Yes, yes, I loved it.” Then she cried out her climax, a long, low wail that released him. He came with her chant, “Oh God oh God oh God,” ringing in his ears.
When he fell back to earth, there was silence against his ear. She was gone.
But she had done something to him. She’d created an unquenchable need inside him.
He would be back for more of Summer Gentry, so much more.
She couldn’t believe that phone sex with Knox was so much better than anything she’d ever had with Paul.
She didn’t care that everything she’d told him was a lie, except for the porn movies.
Everett had never sent her out without a bra.
He’d never wanted to watch her. They’d never gone to a club.
Everett had been too controlling to even contemplate something like that.
The only kink they’d ever tried was the porn flicks, which was the one way to guarantee he got hard.
He’d want her to suck him while they watched.
And if she was lucky, they’d have sex in front of the TV, with her riding him while he watched over her shoulder.
But there was something empty in those episodes, as if Everett wasn’t making love to her, but imagining her to be some hot porn star he saw on the TV screen.
And yet Knox had tapped into every one of those old, forbidden desires. The things she imagined while Everett screwed her in front of the TV.
She’d done the same thing with Paul, told him made-up stories, spun her fantasies.
And yet it had never been like that. It was as if Knox drew all those dreams out of her.
As if he’d looked at her across her desk and known all the dirty yearnings swelling inside her.
As if he knew her inside and out, a book he’d opened to just the right page where everything was revealed.
Knox Turner was a man she could spin all her fantasies with.
Thank God she’d set down the ground rule that they would never date. Because she could imagine acting out some of those fantasies with him.
And that made him dangerous.