All the Pretty Poses (Pretty #2)(43)
Author: M. Leighton

Although he was already motionless, he seems to stop when he sees me, stop breathing even. Much like I have. His eyes roam me from the curls piled intricately atop my head to the red-painted toes peeking out from my dazzling shoes. It gives me time to adjust to seeing him in his finery. He looks more dashing than James Bond in his black suit and crisp white shirt, holding a glass in one hand and a box in the other.

“You take my breath away,” he rumbles when I stop a few inches from him.

My smile feels like it might outshine the sun when I admit, “I was hoping I would, but I forgot all about it when I saw you standing here.”

Like he doesn’t want to break me, Reese straightens and dips his head to brush his lips across mine. Even the light contact incites a zing of excitement, just like it always does. Reese—his presence, his attention, his touch—brings every molecule of my being into pinpoint focus on him. It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. And I don’t want it to.

Reese reaches behind me to set his glass on a small, linen-draped table that I only just now noticed before he straightens and opens the box he’s holding.

“For you. Nothing half as beautiful as you are, but I wanted you to have it anyway.”

In the long, rectangular box lays a wide bracelet encrusted with the same jewels as my dress and shoes, although I suspect these might be real. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds and a few diamonds chase each other in row after row of glittering gemstones.

Reese takes it out of the box and winds it around my wrist, securing it before he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “Thank you for coming with me this summer. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you came back into my life.”

My heart is slamming against my ribs like head-bangers in a mosh pit. “Thank you for bringing me. I…I…”

Reese’s lips curve into that sexy, lopsided smile that I love. “No need to thank me. I assure you, you are one hundred percent my pleasure.”

Heat flares between us in an instant. It’s hard for me to keep my hands off him as he leads me to the table and pulls out my chair for me. I think he’s feeling the same way if the ravenous look in his eyes is any indication, but he wants this night for some reason. For me? For us? I don’t know, but I’ll go along with anything he wants to do. Anything, anytime anywhere.

Sven is our waiter again. He brings us course after course of the most delicious food I’ve ever tasted. Reese and I enjoy every bite of it, sometimes feeding each other, sometimes laughing about him using his fingers rather than his fork, sometimes just enjoying the amazing view and the even more amazing company. The whole scene is like something from a movie or a fairy tale. I squash down the niggling nugget of dread that has yet to vacate the very pit of my stomach, the one that is braced for the disaster that should come when any situation is this perfect.

After dinner, Reese and I have another glass of wine before he takes me to the showroom and leads me to a small table for two set near the stage. Together we enjoy the entertainment, including two increasingly risqué dances by Amber, followed by a beautiful piano being rolled out onto the stage.

I’m curious as to who plays when I see none other than Brian take a seat behind it. He plays several songs like a classically-trained pianist and it seems everyone appreciates it.

When it’s over, the lights come back on and everyone gets up to leave. Reese doesn’t move to get up, so I keep my seat until he’s ready. He sits in the chair to my left, just watching me, for at least five minutes after the room has completely emptied out. Finally, when the lights dim again, leaving only enough illumination for us to see the piano clearly, Reese stands, offering me his hand. I slide my fingers into his and let him guide me to the three steps that lead onto the stage.

Reese walks to the piano, stops and turns toward me, circling his hands around my waist to lift me onto it. He angles me toward the front as he takes a seat on the bench.

Gracefully, he runs his fingers over the keys, every bit as expertly as Brian had.

“You play?” I ask in surprise.

“I play,” he replies with a smile.

After a few bars, the notes begin to take on those of a song I recognize—Fever. The sensual tune seeps into the air like a drug and, immediately, I’m under the influence. I feel it in a physical way, like a touch, a touch that sizzles along the surface of my skin. Suddenly, the heat of the light is hotter, the black lacquer of the piano cooler. My skin is ultra-sensitive, and every cell of my being is waiting for Reese to reach for me. My body strains toward him, eager for that moment.

But then he starts to sing.

I’ve heard the song performed by a man before, but never has it sounded this good, never has it felt this good. His deep voice is like smooth, rich chocolate. Deliciously mesmerizing. Decadently tantalizing.

I watch Reese as he plays. And he watches me.

During the second verse, he stops playing, instead using his hands to grasp my hips and drag me closer to him. He takes off my shoes and sets them aside before gently resting my bare feet on the keys, all the while singing in his low voice. He never takes his eyes off mine as he runs his palms up my calves. When he gets to my knees, he presses against the insides of them, urging me to spread my legs. So I do, anticipation humming through my veins.

My breath is coming in shallow pants as Reese raises my dress with his forearms, stroking his fingers up my thighs. With excruciating slowness, he drags my panties off, brushing them across his mouth before he sets them aside.

When my lower body is bared to him, Reese stands. As he draws closer to me, the words of the song trail off until there’s nothing but silence and the sound of his breath colliding with mine.

When our lips meet, it turns into a slow tango of our tongues that turns my toes into ten tiny flames and my belly into a melting pot of the most all-consuming desire I’ve ever known.

Everything happens in slow motion, as though the song still plays in the background. Reese leans away and stares into my eyes for what seems an eternity before he runs his fingers down my throat and over my chest, pressing gently until I’m lying flat on my back on top of the piano.

I feel every warm breath he exhales as he drags his mouth up the inside of my thigh, using his hands to open my legs wider and wider until I feel the cool air hit the moisture there. With the barest shake of his head, Reese nuzzles me with his lips. The scruff of his stubble scrapes me just barely, robbing me of air and causing my muscles to contract in readiness.