Trouble on Tap(2)By: Avery Flynn
The elevator doors had barely shut before Olivia’s fingers were at the buckle of the belt cinching the waist of her trench dress. Drunk on his nearness, she ignored the security camera in the ceiling. It didn’t mean a damn thing. Hell, who was she kidding? She was the wild Sweet triplet, the one voted most likely to do anything, and all she wanted to do right now was Mateo.
“Take it off.” His hungry gaze never left her as he inserted the penthouse keycard into the slot above the floor buttons.
The elevator jerked ever so slightly as it rose at a glacial pace and she adjusted her stance to better balance on her four-inch heels. The last thing she wanted was to tumble onto her ass during a striptease. Not tonight. Not with Mateo. She’d spent most of her life half in love with him. Making a fool of herself in front of him wasn’t an option.
“The penthouse? Really?” She untied the belt around her waist. The material loosened around her, the sudden influx of air sweeping against her overheated skin.
“I’m a man without commitments or a permanent address unless it’s attached to a military base. What else am I going to blow my money on other than outrageously expensive hotel rooms to fuck you in until you forget your name?” His green-hazel eyes had turned dark with barely reined-in lust. “Now, stop teasing.”
She inched down the zipper. Slowly. She loved pushing him like this. He’d snap. He always did. And the explosion would be so worth it—for both of them.
He leaned back against the closed elevator doors and crossed his arms, the move making his biceps bulge. “I said take it off.”
She toyed with the zipper but didn’t lower it even a millimeter more. Her nipples puckered against the dress’s soft leather, warmed by her desire-heated skin. “Here? In the elevator?”
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. Hard. Wild. Ravenous. “Yes.”
She clenched her core muscles tight. She couldn’t help herself, teasing him turned her on. “Why should I?”
“Because you want to.” He closed the distance between them in one swift step, crowding her up against the back of the elevator, centering himself between her open legs. “You want to show the security guard watching the video feed and jerking off behind his desk just how hard your perfect pink nipples are and how slick your sweet pussy is just from thinking about me touching you, licking you, fucking you senseless. You’re so turned-on you’re going to ruin that leather dress you’re barely wearing if you’re not careful.”
Heart hammering in her chest, she realized she’d pushed him right up to the edge where rigid control gave way to ferocious hunger. All it would take was the smallest verbal tap to tip him right over. “I’m not wet.”
“Prove it.” He pressed his hands to the wall on either side of her shoulders and dipped his head so that his hot breath caressed the sensitive skin of her earlobe. “Touch yourself right now.”
Refusing wasn’t an option. Not when she ached for this—for him. His touch. His body. His mouth. She slid her fingers down the rough metal line of the half-closed zipper to the dress’s short hem. Watching him through her eyelashes as he watched her, she drew out her actions, pulling the tension higher.
“You know what happens when you make me wait,” he growled.
She did. And she loved it. But she’d skated the edge for too long, ever since she’d slid across the backseat of the limo, her bare ass on the leather reminding her of exactly who she was going to see and what she was going to do.
Biting her bottom lip, she slipped her hand under her dress and glided her fingers across her plump wet folds.
“Show me.” A strained hoarseness tightened his tone.
Unable and unwilling to deny him, she withdrew her hand from under her dress and held it up between them. There was no missing the moisture glistening on her fuck-me-red nails.
“You should know you can’t lie to me.” He grabbed her wrist and raised her hand to his mouth, taking her fingers inside and sucking off her juices with just enough pressure to make her glad there was a wall behind her to hold her up. “Now, take off the damn dress.”
No slow tease now. She couldn’t take it any longer. Just a swift downward jerk on the zipper pull and the dress parted. The cool air swept across her bare flesh as she shrugged the leather off her shoulders. It fell to the elevator floor. Heat licked her skin as his heady gaze traveled across her exposed body.
A bing sounded.
The elevator doors whooshed open.
Olivia’s heart blocked her throat and she slapped one arm across her breasts and dropped the other so her hand blocked a direct view of her pussy.
That’s when she took a good look at the scene beyond his broad shoulders. Marble floors. A leather couch. Wall-to-ceiling windows showing the city’s skyscraper-dotted skyline. It had been a private elevator leading directly to his penthouse suite and he’d obviously known it the whole time.
“Bastard.” She leaned down and swiped her dress off the elevator floor before swerving around him and strutting her way into the room, stopping only when she stood facing the windows—all the better to watch his approach in the reflection.