His nostrils flared and a
muscle ticked in his jaw. A single droplet of water ran down his
temple as he lowered his face back to hers. His eyes were dark and
filled with barely constrained desire. “You are one hell of a
temptress, Arissa Wright. Teasing me like this. Perhaps there should
be a test. I am a teacher, after all.” He winked and that single
action sent shivers of longing through her.
“I suppose I could go for a
lesson,” she paused, “or two.”
“Be careful I don’t carry
you off right now.” Promise laced his tone.
Arissa wrinkled her nose.
“Sorry. Time for my Tae-Bo class.” She stood, allowing her body to
slide along his wet one. “Enjoy the rest of your swim. See you
later.” Lifting her bag, she walked away with an added swish to her
hips, knowing full well he watched.
As she walked from the gym
to her suite, there was a smile on her face. She felt good, and from
all indications, tonight would be the night she got to see the part
of Deiter she hadn’t been allowed to see yet. Moisture flooded her
pussy at the thought of having the chance to experience the tall,
“Man,” she muttered as she
rounded the corner. “I’m bad off.”
“Anything I can help with?”
A deep voice questioned.
Jerking her head up in
surprise, a gasp escaped her as the image of the man she’d just
thought about filled her sight. Deiter Schneider. He stood there,
leaning against the door to her room, looking more gorgeous than
sin. Everyone said Lucifer had been the most attractive of angels
before he fell, and she’d bet anything Deiter could give him a run
for his money.
His legs were hooked at the
ankle, allowing the jeans he wore to pull tight against his
rock-hard thighs. Deiter wore a dark blue sleeveless tee shirt, and
his well-defined arms were also crossed. She licked her lips and
swallowed, trying to get moisture into her extra dry mouth.
Blue-gray eyes were full of mischief and longing as he held her
“It’s not time for supper
yet, is it?” she asked, reaching for her keycard and swiping it. The
door unlocked, but still Deiter didn’t move except to place his hand
on the handle and keep it cracked open. With no response
forthcoming, she glanced at him only to find his gaze had lost all
joviality and simmered with heat.
“Invite me in,” he murmured.
She slid past him, and once
in her room, rested her head against the edge of the door and held
his stare. Slowly, and with extreme attention to detail, Arissa
scanned him from the floor up. From the loosely laced tennis shoes,
over the thigh-hugging jeans and up the shirt that only amplified
his physique to his face. He still waited for her, his eyes
straightforwardly direct. And molten hot.
“Come in?” she questioned on a soft breath.