Page 41 of Hard Rock Desires

“Fuck the party,” he said. “If you didn’t want me to tear that thing off, then don’t look so sexy in it.”

“It’s just a dress,” I said.

“Just a dress,” he muttered, shaking his head.

I looked down at myself. I supposed it did hug my every curve, and my, shall we say, ample bosom, was nicely on display.

“Seriously, Grace, are you trying to kill me?” he asked.

“Maybe I should wear a burlap sack so you can keep control of yourself,” I said.

“You’d look sexy in a paper bag,” he said. “But this little number, damn.” He scanned me up and down again. “Is this what little black dress means? I’ll have to thank Kaylee later.”

“We’re going to be late if you don’t stop drooling over me,” I told him.

But truthfully, I was glad for the short delay, because it gave me time to gather myself as well. That firm, muscled chest with a hint of a tattoo revealed by the unbuttoned shirt was enough to send my blood racing. This guy was gorgeous, and sexy, and, at least for the night, he was all mine.

“If you’re sure I can’t convince you to let me ravish you,” he said, “then I suppose we should get going.”

“Save the ravishing for later,” I said.

His eyes sparked. “Later, hm?” He opened the passenger side door. “Is that a promise?”

I flushed as I slid into my seat. I hadn’t meant to let that slip out, but I supposed I didn’t regret saying it.

Zain pulled out of my apartment quickly. As soon as we were on the road, he took one hand off the wheel and placed it on my thigh. His fingertips played with the hem of my skirt, just barely brushing my bare skin.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Fondling you,” he said.

“You’re supposed to be paying attention to the road,” I said.

“I’m great at multitasking.”

The heat of his palm burned into me even through my dress, and for a second I wished I’d invited him up to my apartment instead of getting into his car.

But the idea that he was paying more attention to me than to his driving made my heart pound in an entirely unpleasant manner.

I lifted his hand from my leg and plunked it back down on the steering wheel.

“You can save the fondling for later, too,” I said.

“You’re making a lot of promises for what’s going to happen later,” he said smugly. “Have you been doing a lot of thinking about what’s going to happen? Have you been daydreaming about it, maybe?”

“No,” I protested.

“I have,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about taking you back home. Thinking about you naked in my bed.” He cast me a side-long glance and smirked. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all the dirty things I’m going to do to you.”

My breathing turned heavier with every word out of his mouth. The heat from my flushed cheeks traveled from my face, down my neck, to settle in my lower belly. I tried not to squirm in my seat as that tingle between my legs flared up.

“Are you going to be doing this all night?” I asked.

“Doing what?” he asked. “We’re just having a light conversation about our expectations this evening. And it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?” I asked.

“Tell me what you want from me tonight.”