She managed to nod as though she understood his reasoning, not breaking eye contact. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say, but she knew no matter what, she couldn’t let him see how much he affected her.
“Champagne?”
Her eyes wavered from his briefly as she glanced over at the bottle sitting in a built in ice bucket. A small dose of liquid courage might be just what the doctor ordered. “It’s a little early, don’t you think?”
“I can mix it with orange juice if that makes you feel better.” That sinfully sexy grin tipped his very tantalizing mouth, and McKenna couldn’t resist smiling back.
“Deal. Then we can call it breakfast.”
“I was thinking about something else entirely for breakfast,” Tag mumbled, and McKenna bit her lip.
It was then that she realized all bets were off when it came to Tag Murphy.
~*~*~
Tag retrieved one of the glasses from the overhead rack and poured the champagne and orange juice before handing the glass over to McKenna. When their fingers brushed as the glass changed hands, he felt the residual spark from yesterday’s breath stealing encounter. The one that had him tossing and turning half the night.
Unfortunately, he’d resisted the urge to waylay the throb between his legs because he was anticipating a much more impressive interaction soon. He was tempted to see just how far McKenna was willing to go and whether or not she had actually read the contract in its entirety the night before.
He knew she had, the woman was nothing if not thorough he had learned, but he was still anxious to test her.
“I see you’re dressed for comfort,” he commented, allowing his eyes to rake her long, smooth legs as he spoke.
“If I remember correctly, that was the instruction.” She smirked, sipping the mimosa.
He knew what she was referring to, and he realized he never should’ve doubted McKenna or her desire to push him as much as he was pushing her. “What are you wearing beneath that skirt?”
“I read every single word of the fine print,” she assured him, and Tag’s body immediately took notice of what she was revealing.
Now if only she would actually reveal more.
“Show me.” Pinning his eyes on hers, Tag watched every nuance of her response to his demand.
“Do you always get right to the point?” she asked, setting the now empty glass in one of the wooden cup holders.
“Only when it benefits me.”
“How does this benefit you?” McKenna asked.
Tag noticed she wasn’t making any effort to do as he told her. The little vixen was going to learn soon enough that he expected full and total compliance because he wasn’t much for asking a second time. Instead of responding, he narrowed his gaze on her.
When she squirmed, albeit it very slightly, he knew he had won this round.
“Show me, McKenna.” He lowered his voice just a notch. “I won’t tell you again.”
Those exotic eyes widened, but there wasn’t a hint of fear in her penetrating gaze. No, what he saw there was more of a dare than anything else. But then she took the hem of her skirt and slowly inched it up over her creamy thighs, then higher. Until Tag got a glimpse of the bare, smooth skin of her mound.
“All the way,” he ordered. “Either lift it up completely or take it off. Your choice.”
The limo finally began to move, and Tag knew it was only a matter of time before they would be pulling up to the club. Although James was instructed not to open the back doors for any reason, McKenna didn’t know that. So, technically, Tag had all the time in the world.
McKenna’s breath hitched audibly, but she did as he instructed, lifting her skirt up over her hips and baring her beautiful pussy to his gaze. She appeared unfazed by his request for her not to wear anything underneath her clothes, but the slight tremor in her hands was a telltale sign that she was just as affected by her little peepshow as he was.
He was prepared for her though. While tossing and turning for half the night, Tag had come up with a few ideas on how to break down some of her resistance and little did she know, although a major turn on, her dominant nature was going to be put to the test.
She didn’t have to worry, Tag made a vow not to touch the enticing little vixen which was going to be a test of his own willpower because the woman tempted him in ways he didn’t understand. As he watched her teeth chewing on her bottom lip while her hands shook slightly, he wondered why the hell he was torturing himself that way. The thought of touching her, tasting her, had all but consumed him ever since he’d kissed her the day before and felt how responsive she was to his touch.
“So fucking pretty,” he growled, his hunger undisguised. Not that he could’ve hidden how much he wanted her because as each day passed Tag found he wanted her that much more.