Crave Page 65
Playfully he tugged at the belt of her robe. “Yes, but if I watch you put on some of the items you’ll find in the boxes we’ll never get out of here this evening. You might not even get to order room service. Let’s just say it will be much safer all around if I use the other room.”
His rather cryptic words began to make perfect sense as she removed the lids from each box and spied their contents. Her mouth dropped open in a round “O” as she drew out the gorgeous bustier of cream silk and lace shot through with red satin ribbons. There was a matching pair of tiny cream silk panties tied with red satin ribbons on the sides, and sheer, silky stockings that would attach to the bustier’s garters.
She gasped when she drew out the beautiful cocktail dress from the largest box. It was of red lace, with an off the shoulder, sweetheart neckline. The label read Marchesa, but of course no price tags were attached to anything. She shuddered to imagine how much such a gorgeous dress had cost.
She struggled a bit with the back hooks of the bustier, but eventually managed to get them all fastened. Once she pulled on the panties and hooked the stockings to the garters, she glanced at herself in the bathroom’s full-length mirror, her eyes widening at the image that stared back at her. The wired bustier pushed her breasts up into even more generous proportions than usual, until they were nearly spilling out of the low-cut garment. The undergarment nipped in at the waist, making it look tiny, and the sheer, silky stockings made her legs look longer than ever.
The alluring red dress fit her perfectly, as did the red patent leather heels. The final two boxes held a stunning bracelet of rubies and diamonds, and a matching pair of drop earrings. Tessa touched up her makeup and brushed her hair until it shone, placed a few items into her clutch bag, and then tentatively walked into the living room.
Ian was sending a text and didn’t hear her come in, so she was able to look him over at her leisure. He was wearing a dark gray suit and a crisp white dress shirt opened at the neck, but no tie. His five o’clock shadow was more prominent now, giving him that sort of dark, dangerous look that always made her shiver in reaction. He was so sexy, so mouthwateringly male, that her new panties immediately grew damp as she imagined running her hands up his chiseled body, or pressing a kiss to his darkly stubbled cheek.
He looked up then, and his gaze upon her was so smoldering that she could almost feel it burning into her skin. He stuck the phone in his jacket pocket and walked towards her, never breaking eye contact. He threaded a hand into her hair, tilting her head to one side, and brushed a kiss on her cheek.
“Hello, beautiful,” he told her huskily. “You look sinful.”
She toyed with the open neckline of his shirt for a moment before unbuttoning one more button. “So do you.” She nuzzled her nose against the exposed skin of his throat. “And you smell even better.”
He trailed his fingers up her bare arm. “I assume everything else fits - er, adequately?”
Tessa smiled. “It does, yes. Though I almost had to call you in to help me fasten up one of the, ah, items.”
Ian’s hands grasped her hips, yanking her up against him. “I trust you were able to take care of the matter yourself?”
At her nod, his gaze dropped to her cleavage, which was partially bared by the cut of the dress. She whimpered as he traced along the neckline of the dress, his long finger brushing her bare skin.
“I can’t wait to see you in it,” he rasped. “I’m guessing it makes your gorgeous tits look even bigger than they already are.” He replaced his fingers with his lips, kissing the exposed upper curves of her breasts. “I almost bought you the necklace that matched the other jewelry, but finally decided that I didn’t want anything to mar the perfection of these magnificent breasts.”
“Please.” The throaty moan escaped her lips as he brushed his thumb over her nipple. She clutched handfuls of his shirt as she tried to mold her lower body against his.
“Easy, love.” He dropped a kiss on the bridge of her nose before taking her firmly by the hand. “Remember what I told you earlier - anticipation only enhances the ultimate pleasure. So, come now. Time to start anticipating what’s to come.”
***
The cocktail lounge was on the top floor of the lodge, and offered up an amazing view of the snowcapped mountains. They sipped one of the special Valentine’s Day cocktails - pomegranate margaritas - and took turns feeding each other salted almonds and mini-pretzels.
As she popped an almond into his mouth, Ian clasped her wrist, holding it still as he sucked her finger between his lips. Then it was his turn to feed her a pretzel, and she mimicked his actions by licking his index finger suggestively.
His eyes darkened. “Are you imagining something else in place of my finger right about now?” At her nod, he removed his finger and brushed his thumb over her lips instead. “Naughty girl.”
“I like being naughty with you.”
“Jesus.” He shifted a bit awkwardly in his leather chair. “You’re making me forget all of my good intentions, you little flirt. Finish your drink now, love, it’s nearly time for dinner.”
Once again Tessa marveled at the way the wait staff at the very upscale hotel restaurant catered to Ian, very obviously knowing exactly who he was, and going out of their way to make sure he had a satisfactory dining experience. They easily had the best table in the place, right next to a floor-to-ceiling window that afforded another fabulous view of the mountains.
He had taken her out to equally posh restaurants often enough over these past weeks that she was now more at ease with scanning menus and ordering. They shared a Caesar salad that the waiter hand tossed tableside, as well as an order of black truffle risotto. She chose the sea bass for her entrée while Ian ordered a beef filet. He ordered champagne - a Ruinart Brut Rose - and she was delighted to discover it was pink as the waiter poured it into flutes.
“For Valentine’s Day,” Ian told her. “I hope you like it, my love.”
As Tessa took a sip, she realized this was at least the second time this evening he’d called her “my love” as opposed to simply “love”, and wondered at the significance - if any - of this slight change. But she soon forgot about it as the meal progressed, far too intent on listening to him, gazing at him, desiring him. Everything he did, no matter how subtle or seemingly insignificant, seemed to arouse her this evening - the way his long fingers held his champagne flute; the movements of his strong jaw as he carefully chewed a bite of food; not to mention the glimpses she was afforded of his tanned throat and the very beginnings of the dark ribbon of hair that bisected his chest. She knew he hadn’t worn a tie very intentionally and could only assume - or, rather hope - that he was planning for this to be the night they played out the fantasy dream she’d described to him.