Kiara didn't drink often: a glass of wine with dinner at a fine restaurant, a flute of champagne to toast at a party. Which made the mojito and two daiquiris she'd consumed at Alice's bachelorette party tonight responsible for how she greeted Ash.
"Get in here and take off your clothes." She hauled Ashton through her door and slammed it shut, eyeballing him and daring him to laugh at her outfit.
But he was a smart man and the only glimmer of amusement she saw happened with the barest quirk of his lips.
"That's some dress." His teasing drawl, low and barely above a growl, made her skin prickle with anticipation.
"Because Alice is so prim and proper all the time, I made it a ‘Naughty Not Nice’ theme." She did a little twirl and snagged a heel in her fishnet stockings in the process.
"Well, you've certainly managed to stick to the theme well."
His eyes glittered as he stared at her sky-high stilettos in a garish crimson, perused his way up her legs, focused on the black lace garter holding up her stockings and studied the red bustier and matching miniskirt with particular intent.
"I thought I was doing the stripping tonight," he said, adding in a pelvic swivel and thrust with a laugh.
"You are." She reached for her phone and tapped the music app. Her favourite song of all time played from the surround-sound speakers.
"Do your thing, gorgeous."
She collapsed onto the nearest sofa, placed her feet on the coffee table, interlocked her hands behind her head and waited.
"I'm feeling objectified," he said, his mouth easing into that slow, sexy smile that made her panties damp. "So you're into blues, huh?
"Yeah. Now take it all off."
Kiara struggled not to salivate as Ashton unbuttoned his shirt while swivelling his hips in time to the music.
Strutting from one corner of her lounge room to the other, he flung off his shirt, unbuckled and whipped out his belt and unsnapped his jeans.
Heat pounded through her body in sync with the blues singer’s dulcet tones as he strode towards her, stopped a foot away and lowered his zipper.
She couldn't hear the rasp of metal teeth above the music but she stared at that zipper, mesmerised, as it slid lower until it could go no further.
With his hands on his hips, his cocky grin making her want to clamber all over him, he arched an eyebrow.
"Would you give me ten out of ten for stripping?"
With her skin alight and the insistent throb between her legs intensifying, she scooted forward on the sofa.
She pushed his jeans down his legs, along with his jocks, revealing what she wanted most.
"Hmm?" She reached for him, anticipation thrumming through her veins.
"You can objectify me any time."
She proceeded to do exactly that.
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