Beautiful Stranger

re-creating a scene from Leatherface .”
    I shook my head, laughing, surprised at how relieved I was she hadn’t just shown up blindly. “It belongs to a client of mine.”
    “A client with a fetish for mirrors?”
    “I don’t know how much you found in your digging,” I said. “But I have two partners, and each of us has his ownarea of expertise: Will Sumner specializes in biotech, James Marshall in technology. I focus more on the arts: galleries and—”
    “Antiques?” she said, motioning around the room.
    “Yes.”
    “Which brings us to why we’re here,” she said.
    “Done with the twenty questions?”
    “For now.”
    “Satisfied?”
    “Hmmm, not yet.”
    I crossed the room, bending to kneel in front of her. “You’re okay with this?”
    “With you taking me in a warehouse full of mirrors?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged, in a wildly innocent gesture. “Surprisingly, yes.”
    I moved my hand to the back of her neck. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. How you’d look sitting here.” Her skin was so soft, and I let my fingers trail down along her throat, along her collarbone. I pressed a kiss over her pulse, feeling the beat of it against my tongue. She whispered my name, her legs falling open as she brought me closer.
    “I want you naked,” I said, wasting no time and pulling down the front of her dress. “I want you naked and wet and begging for me to fuck you.” I moved to her breast, sucking, before I bit down on her nipple through the delicate lace of her bra. “I want you to be so loud that the people at the bus stop across the street know my name.”
    She gasped and reached for my tie, loosening it and pulling it from my around my neck.
    “I could bind you with that,” I said. “Spank you. Suck on your pussy until you begged me to stop.” I watched as she fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, the hungry look in her eyes as she pushed it down my shoulders.
    “Or I could gag you,” she teased with a smirk.
    “Promises, promises,” I whispered, taking her bottom lip into my mouth. I kissed down her chin, sucked on her neck.
    She gripped me through my trousers, my body already responding, my cock hard in her palm.
    I unfastened her dress and pushed it open, pulling her arms free and tossing it to the side. Her bra followed closely behind.
    “Tell me what you want, Sara.”
    She hesitated, watching me, before whispering, “Touch me.”
    “Where?” I asked and trailed a finger up her thigh. “Here?”
    Her skin was milky white against the red velvet of the chaise—the image better than any I’d conjured up on my own—and I nibbled her hip bone as I slipped the tiny scrap of lace she wore down her legs. Dipping a finger inside, I sucked in a sharp breath at how wet she was already. I circled my thumb over her clit, both of us looking down to where I touched her. I watched the muscles of her stomach quiver, heard the soft sounds as I moved over her wet skin.
    Standing, I unfastened my trousers, tossing a condomto the chaise before pushing my clothes down my hips. She didn’t waste any time, sitting up and taking me in her hand, running her tongue along the head of my cock. I watched as she sucked on the tip, her lips warm and wet.
    Glancing up, I caught our reflection across the room. She held on to my hips, her pretty caramel-colored hair twisted around my fingers, her head bobbing as she moved over me. I forced myself not to look down, knowing what her long, dark lashes would look like from this angle, resting against her pink cheeks.
    Or better, her dark eyes open as she looked up.
    I felt the point where each of her fingers gripped me, felt the soft brush of her hair against my stomach, the heat of her mouth and the vibration of each encouraging moan. It felt so fucking good. Too good.
    “Not yet,” I said, gasping but somehow managing to pull away. I ran my fingers along her lips. It was so tempting to just watch her suck me off, to let myself come down her throat. But I had other plans. “Turn around. I want you on your knees.”
    She did as I asked, glancing over her shoulder at me as I stood behind her.
    That look nearly did me in and I had to force myself to think of spreadsheets—or even Will’s bad jokes—as I reached for the condom and tore it open, sliding it over my length. I gripped her hip, taking one hand and guidingmyself to her entrance, rubbing my tip against her before pressing down and pushing inside.
    Her