Michael sighed with frustration. “Then let me protect you. I'm your only option.”

“No, you're not.” She had another option. One so extreme that part of her mind told her she was mad to even consider it. A gamble so huge, it was almost mind-boggling.

Bet everything on black.

She stood and gave Michael her most seductive look. Eyeliner and makeup would've helped, but she had to roll with what she had here. She walked over to him slowly with her eyes half closed, making certain her hips swayed as she moved and being careful not to fall over a chair. Her desire surged the closer she got to him, but she kept it under a tight leash. He'd already proven he could get her wet at will. Now it was Lennox she wanted to see with his cock straining against his trousers, burning with lust for her, instead.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, his eyes narrowing, but he couldn't hide his interest. She put her leg up on the seat of his chair, the folds of the robe falling away, revealing a smooth expanse of thigh. She leaned down and lightly gripped her ankle, allowing the robe to fall open at the top just a little, showing him the tops of her breasts. Her nipples grazed over the terrycloth of the inside of the robe and sent sparks rushing to her womb.

She ran her hands slowly, sensuously, up her calf, dismayed at the stubble but determined not to let it bother her. It didn't seem to bother him. His gaze followed her hands like a cat tracking a toy mouse, over her knee, up her thigh. Then she twitched down the robe again, hiding her skin.

Lennox sat very still. He looked up at her eyes, and she stared back at him, pinning him with her gaze. She circled the chair again, concentrating on keeping her movements smooth and sexy, and stopped in front of him. She turned around and unbelted the robe.

Holding the robe closed with her hands, she turned back to face him. His eyes blazed with lust, and his cock tented the dark fabric of his slacks. She gave a throaty laugh, then took the folds of her robe in one hand and slowly slid it down her shoulders. She couldn't believe she was doing this, dancing for him, doing a striptease with a friggin' bathrobe. But it appeared to be working. For both of them.

She caught up her left arm beneath her breasts, pushing them up, making deep cleavage, and gave him the briefest peek at each of her dusky pink nipples. Lennox groaned—a soft sound of both need and want—before it turned into a deeper growl of almost animal lust. He started to stand, but she moved up against him, grabbing his tie with one hand, her other hand on his chest. He halted, but she could see he fought the urge to push her back on the table and fuck her hard.

But not this time. No, no. This time it was her game.

She pushed him back into his seat. He went readily enough, vampire strength or no, and he cocked an eyebrow at her, a mischievous glint in his eye, but all she needed to know of his mood showed in the hard outline of his dick in his pants. That was what she wanted to toy with.

She straddled his legs, planting her knees on either side of his lap. She let the robe hang free, but it was so full, it didn't give him much of a view, just the valley between her breasts and shadows. Moisture gushed from her pussy, and she rocked her hips as she deftly undid his tie, then began to unbutton his shirt, button by button, drawing it out. He kept his eyes on hers, but her hips hovered just inches over his restrained cock, and the anticipation of it made her breath come harder.

That seemed to drive him wild. He reached up for her, running a hand along her thigh, and his touch sent white electric bolts through her body, threatening to steal her initiative. She drove her face down and kissed him hard, biting at his lip as she pulled back. She lowered her hips just enough to drag her swollen nether lips delicately across the fabric-covered head of his cock.

He groaned, and she did it again, grinning.

“You like to torment?” he said, his voice shaky. “I'll show you torment.”

He reached up and grabbed the top of her robe, but she gripped his wrist. “Uh, uh, uh…” She let go of him, and he lowered his hand.

She dragged his shirt out of his pants and yanked it the rest of the way down his chest. Lennox gripped the arms of the chair but didn't move. “Are you having a good time?” she asked, grabbing the collars of her robe.

“Can't you tell?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” she asked, leaning forward again and letting the robe gape open just a little.

“Oh yeah.”

She scooted off the chair and onto her feet. “Not yet.”

She remembered the feeling of being watched in her club, of all those people staring at her, her naked breasts pressed against the glass while Lennox held up her dress and played with her pussy. She'd never breathed a word of that fantasy, of being watched, and yet Michael had known about it, had read it in her thoughts, maybe, and had given it to her. He'd been right. It was the best gift she'd ever gotten.

“I like to have people watch,” she said, pulling the shoulders of the robe down to her upper arms. “I'd never done it before until that night at the Lunar.”

“You still haven't,” he said. “It wasn't real. No one saw you.”

“Doesn't matter,” she said. “It felt real. And I liked it.” She swayed her hips, pulling the robe to one side, then the other. “Do you want to look at me?”

“Oh yeah,” he said again, this time with a smile that sent another flood of wetness to her groin.

She slid the top edges of the robe aside, briefly exposing her left breast. She danced closer, then propped her hands on the arms of his chair and leaned forward.

The robe fell open, and her breasts bobbed out toward his face. And with them, the gold crucifix.

Michael's eyes opened wide.

“Oh my God!” Aubrey leaped back, covering herself and the cross with the robe.

Michael looked up at her, and his wide smile almost became a laugh. “My male ego is going to assume that was to stop Sands and not me.”

Aubrey gaped at him. It took her a moment to catch on. He appeared amused and still hard, and he didn't cringe back or melt or burst into flames.

“The cross thing is a bunch of crap, huh?”

“Yep.” He didn't move, but his smile widened. “Now you promised me I could watch you dance.”

“Did I?” She massaged her hands up his thighs, skirted his groin, just the barest rub, then up his hard stomach muscles, up to his pectorals, and up finally to his jawline. She pulled him into a passionate kiss that made her tongue quiver with sensation. She could feel the intensity of his need and desire, and that turned her on so much, she could feel her inner dampness threatening to run down her thighs. She knew he could smell her arousal. His pupils had dilated, and his cool skin seemed a touch warmer than a moment before.

She pulled back and let herself dance, feeling his eyes on her. She grasped the edges of the robe and pushed it down, and when she shrugged it fell to pool around her ankles. She kicked it aside and stood before him, completely naked.

“What do you want to see?” she asked. She swept her hands over her skin, up her torso, to cup her breasts. She rubbed her nipples, and her hips thrust in response. She let her head fall back and moaned.

“Whatever you want to show.” His words came fast, strained. “You're the exhibitionist.”

She smiled at him and gave her nipples one more pinch. “Are you a titty man or an ass man?”

“Whatever you've got on hand is fine.”

She laughed and turned her back to him, spread her legs, and did a slow, deep plunge to the floor, then arched her back in a sinuous glide back up. She felt his gaze on her back, and her pussy throbbed with heat, with the desire to have him touch her as he had at the Lunar.

She turned back to him and mounted him again, letting him drink in the sight of her, and then leaned forward so that her breasts cradled his face. He turned on cue and drew her nipple into his mouth, sending a bolt of desire to her clit. With his other hand, he teased her other pink peak, his rubbing mimicking the pull and release of his mouth. She moaned and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. She reached one hand down between her legs and tickled her clit, but she was too close to coming, so he pulled it away. She reached back, found his cock straining against his pants, and circled the head in lazy spirals until it rewarded her with a damp spot of precum on the front of his trousers.

“You vixen,” he said, his voice still dangerously unsteady.

She laughed, grabbed his hands, and pulled him off the chair, stepping back as he came up. She never could have managed his weight if he hadn't been game, but he came to her eagerly enough. Her hands trailed down his chest again. She loved the feel of his muscles, of his flat stomach, of his cool skin. She undid his trouser button, drew down the zipper, and with a slow drag, took his trousers down to his ankles as she sensuously squatted down in front of him. His cock thrust out, long and hard, his testicles pulled up tight against his body.

“Oh, you devious man.” Her own voice sounded thick with desire. “No boxers. Did you come with such high expectations?”

He began to answer, but she took his dick in her hands, trailing a finger across the cool, silky skin. She took him in her mouth, and that turned his words into a moan as she slid slowly up and down his shaft. He felt cool and smooth, like velvet over marble, and he tasted like salt and heat and delicious male. She drew her head back and licked at the tip of his penis before sliding it into her mouth again.