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House Rules Synopsis:The last thing I expected to fine in my dossier was sexy stockings, a plane voucher to London and an invitation to dance at a gentleman’s club. I’m a quiet museum curator for God’s sake. No way, no how am I going to slide down a pole for a bunch of over privileged, narcissistic men—until I see Sean Fraser, my childhood crush, enter the establishment. Since I’m no longer that overweight teen with braces and mousey hair, there is no way he’ll recognize me. Hmmm… Maybe I’ll give him a fake name—and a private dance. That ought to make him finally notice me, right?
What the hell is Kennedy Lane doing sliding down a pole in a private Gentlemen’s club? I’m not sure, and while I know she’s hands off, I want her. I’ve always wanted her. She might have been too young for me back in the day. Now, not so much. Hands off leads to hands on after a private dance, and while Kennedy spends the weekend pretending to be someone she isn’t, I know full well who she is. And I’m not quite ready to let her hand up her stockings when the show is over.
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She spins, and when she faces me, I capture both her hands, slip them around her back, and hold them there with one of mine. “Tell me what you were thinking about,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Her voice is wavering, and I like that she’s rattled, like that I can do that to her.
“When I was rubbing my cock, thinking about driving it into this pretty mouth of yours, what was going through your mind?”
Her head drops, her long hair shadowing her expression. “I––” she begins, then shuts her mouth. But I’ll have none of that. Tonight, we’re going to fuck and fuck hard, and I want to know every dirty thought she has, every little thing she wants done to her.
“I was thinking…”
I cup her chin and angle it so she’s forced to look at me. “What?”
“That I wished I could see what you were doing.”
Hmmm, not quite what I expected her to say, but it’s definitely something I can work with. “I can make that happen. As long as I get the same in return.”
Her chest heaves, those creamy white breasts of hers rising and falling with an innocence I can’t wait to exploit.
“What do you mean?”
I hold both of her wrists in my palm, and run my free hand down the front of her body until I reach her sex. Backing her up, I press her to the wall and cup her hot mound. “This,” I say.
“Tonight, this is mine. I’m going to do whatever I want with it, and if I want you to touch yourself, to spread your sweet lips wide so I can see every inch of you, you’ll do it.”
I press my finger to her lips. “You’re in my territory now, Kitten. This is my playground, and you’re my toy. I get to play with you any way I want. Only my rules apply here.” Heat flashes in her eyes, and I smirk at the raw need emanating from her body.
I lower my head and capture her mouth. My tongue seeks entrance, and she leans into me. Her mouth is soft, so goddamn soft, her body so pliable in my arms, it’s like she’s never been touched or kissed before. Then again, before tonight, before I have my way with her, it’ll be like she’s never really been fucked.
Her tongue flicks across mine, her taste so sweet it just about drives me insane. I need to have her. All of her. Now. After a good, hard kiss to mark her as mine for the night, I step back. My gaze never leaves hers as I tug on my tie. She watches me carefully, her eyes wide, wanting. I catch the way her mouth drops open, the way she’s rubbing her wrists together, a telltale sign I bet she doesn’t even know she’s sending. Christ, little Kennedy Lane is such an easy read, but I’d bet my next paycheck she’s never been tied up in her entire life—no matter how much she wants to be.
Time to fix that.
“On the bed, hands behind your back.” I give her a little nudge to set her in motion, and she hurries across the room and sinks onto the bed. I take in her posture, the rapid-fire pulse on her neck. “Panties off.”
“Sean,” she says, my name coming out on a breathy whisper.
“Yeah, Kitten?” I ask slowly.
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