Mr and Mischief (12 page)

‘Yes,’ Jason confirmed, and he lifted a hand to tuck a stray
tendril behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her lobe, that little touch possessive and sure. ‘And the practical thing for me to do now is seduce you.’

‘S
EDUCE
me?’ Emily repeated. The words rippled over her, dousing her in shock. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

Jason laughed softly. ‘I intend to show you in vivid detail.’

Images danced before Emily’s eyes, intimate, evocative, startling images. Candlelight on bared skin, clothes slithering to the floor. ‘What I meant was,’ she amended hastily, ‘that most people don’t announce their intentions to
seduce—
‘

‘I told you I’d always be honest with you.’

‘Ah.’ She managed a shaky laugh. ‘Right.’ She was still reeling from Jason’s sudden announcement. ‘So seduction is practical, is it?’ she said and Jason smiled.

‘Eminently. You are attracted to me, aren’t you?’

Emily flinched at such a direct question. There could be no evading, no protecting herself. Still, she tried. ‘I … I suppose.’

He laughed softly. ‘Damned with faint praise.’ Emily said nothing, not wanting to admit just how attracted she was. Even now she was nervous, afraid. Terrified. Jason was right. The thought of him being anything other than what she’d known was scary, strange.

Thrilling.

‘I suppose,’ Jason murmured, ‘I’ll just have to convince you how attracted to me you are.’

Emily realised she’d just inadvertently issued another challenge with her tentative answer. She decided, despite the wild beating of her heart, to see it through. ‘And how do you intend to do that?’

‘Well …’ He smiled and brushed another stray tendril of hair behind her ear. His fingers didn’t even linger this time. Yet still it was enough for Emily to expel a breath in a ragged rush she couldn’t quite control. ‘Perhaps,’ Jason murmured, ‘I should start by kissing you.’ Emily swallowed. Audibly. ‘This time,’ he told her, touching her chin with his fingertips, ‘you won’t ask me what it was for.’

Emily let out a shaky little laugh. ‘Since you’ve already told me your intention, I won’t have to.’

‘Good.’ And then he did kiss her, finally, and it was as unlike the last time as anything Emily could have imagined. There was nothing tentative about this kiss, nothing tenuous or tender or hesitant. This kiss was hot, hard, a searing brand that told Emily more than anything Jason had said or done just what he wanted to do. What he would do.

That she was his.

Her mouth opened under his, and she gasped aloud as his tongue plunged inside, an erotic mimicry of what would surely come later. And even though Jason didn’t move his hands or body or touch her in any other way, Emily was on fire. Liquid fire, her insides melting, her hands reaching up to grasp the lapels of his shirt, pressing closer to him, revelling in the feel of his body next to hers, hard against soft.

Jason broke the kiss with a smile; Emily felt his lips curve against hers. ‘Oh, no, Emily,’ he said softly. ‘We’re not rushing this.’

He called this rushing? Emily’s face was flushed, her breathing already ragged, as if she’d just done a sprint. Or ten. Her hands were still fisted in his shirt. How could he look so unruffled? So in control?

But then Jason had always been in control. He was
certainly calling the shots now. She was at his mercy, under his command.

‘Fine,’ she managed, shaking her hair over her shoulders. ‘Take your time.’

Jason laughed softly. ‘Oh, I will,’ he assured her. ‘I will.’ He moved around her, his head cocked as if he were studying her. Underneath that steady, assessing gaze Emily felt suddenly vulnerable, conscious of the skimpiness of her form-fitting cocktail dress, the black silk hugging her rather generous curves. What was Jason thinking? Why was he looking at her so … thoroughly?

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. The words were spoken with such simple sincerity that Emily quivered. She’d been told she was beautiful before; her father said it all the time. She’d accepted it, taken it for granted even, yet she hadn’t really
felt
it. Believed it. But she did when Jason told her in that honest, heartfelt tone. His voice echoed through her, filled her up to overflowing.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, because she didn’t know what else to say. ‘You’re not too bad yourself.’

Jason laughed softly. ‘You’re rather grudging with your compliments, aren’t you?’ He stood behind her now, and she felt his breath tickle the back of her neck. She tried not to shiver, but she could not suppress the urge, and when Jason pressed his lips to her nape she gasped aloud. She hadn’t expected that, or for his hands to span her waist, sliding over the silk of her dress so he fitted her against him, and she leaned back, yielding to his touch.

She really did feel beautiful, sexy,
wanted.
She’d never felt so desired before, and it was the most intoxicating and powerful feeling in the world.

Slowly, savouring each bit of skin, he kissed his way from her neck to the sensitive curve of her shoulder, his hands sliding upwards from her hips. The sensation was achingly exquisite, almost too much, and they’d barely started.

‘Jason—’ she gasped, but stopped because she didn’t know what to say. What to think. She could just feel this glorious spiralling inside of her, rising upwards, needing to be sated. Slowly, Jason slid his hands down to the hem of her dress, sliding it slowly, sensuously over her thighs. His fingers snagged on the tops of her stockings and he let out a choked laugh.

‘God help me, you’re wearing
garters?’

Emily could barely think with his thumbs skimming the bare flesh of her thighs. ‘They’re … they’re sensible,’ she finally managed.

Jason slid his palm along the tender, exposed skin of her upper thigh, his thumb easily unhooking her garter. ‘And I thought you didn’t like sensible,’ he murmured. ‘Although if you call this sensible …’ He moved around to her front and knelt before her. Emily watched, transfixed, as he slowly unrolled her stocking, his hands sliding along her knee and then calf and ankle until the stocking was crumpled on the floor and her leg was bare.

‘Very sensible,’ she said breathlessly as Jason started on the other leg. His head was bent and the light caught the gold glints of his hair amidst the brown. How had she ever thought his hair was boring?
He
was boring? He was the most exciting man she’d ever met. ‘I don’t like the feel of tights,’ she explained, the words coming in fits and starts. She was mesmerised by the sight of him, by the feel of his hands on her skin. He’d unrolled the stocking and was now slowly peeling it away from her foot. ‘Garters are more comfortable.’

‘Comfortable and sensible,’ Jason murmured. He tossed the stocking and garter to the ground. ‘You sound as if you’re speaking of orthopaedic shoes, not black lace garters.’ He glanced up and Emily’s breath dried in her throat at the look in his eyes. They blazed. She’d never seen Jason look so ferociously intense, so amazingly passionate … about her. The thought thrilled her, shook her to her core in a way that was both wonderful and a little frightening. She felt so
much.

She was conscious then of her bare legs splayed out before her, her dress rucked up nearly to her waist. Slowly Jason slid his hands up her bare legs. Ankles, calves, knees. Emily had had no idea how erotic a touch to the leg could be. And when his hands came to her thighs and rested there possessively, fingers spread, as if he were taking ownership of her, she felt herself sway. Jason’s hands, firm and sure, steadied her.

‘Jason—’ she said again, because she wanted his hands to slide upwards still. She wanted it desperately.

He smiled. He knew what she wanted. ‘No rushing,’ he reminded her, and then, still smiling, he slid his hands upwards and let his thumbs brush the silk of her underwear. Emily’s knees buckled.

He was barely touching her, but it was enough. More than enough, and yet she still wanted more. Jason knelt before her, his hands still strong on her thighs and, leaning forward, he nipped at that scrap of lace with his teeth. Her hands fisted in his hair, half to draw him to her, half to push him away. She didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted more, and yet part of her felt the intense vulnerability of having Jason before her like this, touching her in a way no one else ever had. Sex had never been like this before, but then this felt like so much more than sex.

They weren’t even
having
sex yet, and already her mind and body were on physical and emotional overload. She didn’t know if her body could take any more. If her heart could.

For surely her heart was involved. This wasn’t just sex. This was a pure form of communication, elemental, essential. They were talking with their bodies, with hands and lips, and it was a language that was far more powerful than any words they might have spoken.

Jason must have sensed something of her struggle for he reached up and took her hands in his, wrapping his fingers around hers, and then placed them on his shoulders, anchoring her, so when he leaned forward again and pressed his mouth
against her, she was actually using him to steady herself. To keep her balance and pull him even closer.

Emily’s eyes closed, her body filled with a hot, restless yearning that was painful in its pleasure. It needed to end. She needed release.

Then she found it, and she cried out loud, a long jagged splinter of sound that ended as her body shook with sudden spasms of pleasure and her nails dug into Jason’s shoulders.

Still holding her, he stood up, his body sliding against hers. Emily sagged against him, weak with the aftermath of spent desire. Jason easily scooped her up in his arms, leading her to his bedroom and that big black satin bed.

Emily let him carry her; she could hardly protest. She felt as weak as a kitten, her body and mind both utterly sated. Then Jason released her, her body sliding along his until she landed on her feet, and he touched her chin with one finger.

‘I said I was going to seduce you, but this is a two-way street, Em.’

Her eyes fluttered open. ‘Wh … what?’

‘Do you think I’m going to do all the work?’ He arched an eyebrow, looking so much like the Jason she knew that it was hard to reconcile him with the man who had just touched her so intimately, who had brought her a fierce pleasure she had never known before.

‘Work?’ she said, thinking dazedly of Kingsley Engineering and her position there. Jason, following her thoughts so easily, shook his head, smiling slightly.

‘Now it’s your turn.’

He released her and Emily tried to get her bearings. She felt as if she could barely stand, yet she knew what Jason wanted. He wanted her to touch him as he had touched her. They were equals in this.

Emily gazed at him; he was still completely dressed. So was she save her stockings, although she felt as if she were nearly naked. She’d certainly shown more of herself than

Jason had. She swallowed, wondering what to do. What Jason wanted her to do. She’d had two relationships before this, but sex had been a messy, fumbling affair in the dark. She hadn’t known it could be anything else. She hadn’t been that fussed, to be honest, because it had never occurred to her that it could actually be more. She wondered if that made her woefully naive, or just inexperienced. Both, she supposed.

‘Em,’ Jason prompted. There was laughter lurking in his voice, kind laughter that made Emily smile. ‘Don’t overanalyse this.’

‘Really?’ She gave him one of her old teasing smiles. ‘I think you’d be the king of analysis. You probably have spreadsheets dedicated to the most effective technique.’

He laughed softly. ‘Well,
spread
and
sheet
certainly figure into my thinking.’ He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers, and guided it to his chest. ‘Touch me.’ There was a raw note of pleading in his voice, an unexpected vulnerability that spoke to Emily’s heart and she realised just how much she wanted to touch him.

She laid her palm on his chest, spreading her fingers so his heart beat under her hand. She looked up and saw the longing in his eyes, and it nearly undid her. She’d had no idea how
emotional
this would be. The connection was as intimate as anything they were doing with their bodies, and just as new. Just as terrifying.

Slowly, she drew a breath and then laid her other hand on his chest. ‘No rushing,’ she reminded him, because now she was the one who needed to take her time.

‘No rushing,’ Jason assured her and, taking a deep breath, Emily started to undo the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers snagged on the studs of his tuxedo and she fumbled with the clasps, laughing a little bit as she realised unbuttoning his shirt was not going to be as easy as she’d hoped. So much for seeming experienced or sophisticated.

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled and Jason stilled her hands with his own.

‘Next time I won’t wear a tuxedo.’

Next time.
The words sizzled through Emily’s body, fried her mind. There was going to be a next time.

Quickly, Jason undid the studs and then shrugged out of his shirt and cumberbund, revealing the broad brown expanse of his chest. Emily laid her hands against the warm, taut skin, revelling in the feel of it. Of him.

She risked a glance upwards, saw Jason looking at her with almost a pained expression, a frown furrowing his forehead. She snatched her hands back. ‘Wh … what? Am I—’

‘I’ve just waited a long time for this.’ He reached for her hands, laughing softly. ‘I’m starting to want to rush a little bit.’

The thought that her touch could inflame him so much was incredible. Incredibly powerful. Emily splayed her hands on his chest, let her fingernails scrape his skin. She heard Jason’s rush of breath and smiled. ‘Good things come to those who wait,’ she told him softly, and Jason gave a laugh that sounded more like a shudder.

Emily let her hands drift down his chest, reached the waistband of his trousers. She felt powerful and a little shy. This was still Jason—
Jason
—and she could hardly believe any of this was happening. And might happen again.

‘Emily …’ Her name was a whisper, a hiss.

‘Patience, remember?’ Emily reminded him, her voice husky. Her heart had started to beat hard and fast again as she slid Jason’s trousers down his legs. She’d felt so replete moments ago, but now desire was pooling deep inside her, causing that restless ache to surge through her body, demanding satiation.