Sex and the Billionaire Crime Boss

Ch. 7: Talk Dirty to Me

"Actually," I say, stalling for time, "I have a confession to make."

"Well, that's a good start. What do you want to confess to me, Hadley?"

I lower my voice to an almost whisper. "I think I left my panties in your bed."

"You think, or you know?"

"I know I left my panties in your bed. I was . . . distracted."

"I like the idea of finding your panties in my bed. And you coming to my bedroom to retrieve them once I'm back from my trip."

I like that idea too.

"Where are you right now?" I'm picturing him stepping out of some high level late night meeting to call me. Talking to me in a low voice in the hallway while they wait for him to come back inside. Is he meeting about something illegal?

If he wants me to talk about my fantasies while he's waiting to resume a meeting, I just can't.

"I'm in my hotel room. Alone. I'm pouring myself a glass of bourbon," he says, and I actually hear the ice clinking in his glass. My shoulders soften. "Then I'm going to stretch out on the bed, relax, and forget about the crappy meetings I just spent the last five hours in. Do you know why I'm going to forget about them?"

"Why?"

"Because you're going to stop stalling right now and tell me a story, Hadley. You're going to tell me something you dream about that makes you hot. Something you've only ever imagined doing. You're going to tell me your wildest fantasy. And when I get back to Miami, Hadley, I'm going to make that fantasy real."

Hearing him say it again sends a shiver of anticipation through me. How daring can I be? I'm not ready to share my most private fantasies. Not with a man I barely know.

But the very idea that I could tell him anything - absolutely anything - and he would turn that fantasy into reality is probably the hottest thing I've ever heard anyone say.

How far should I go?

"Go all the way, that's how far," Max says, and I realize I must have spoken those words out loud. I squeeze the bridge of my nose, sighing.

"I don't even know you."

"You know me well enough, Hadley. And you're going to know me a lot better. Very soon."

His confidence radiates through the phone, and it's attractive. I close my eyes. It's easier with my eyes closed to be vulnerable, even though he's not here.

"Are you in bed?" he asks me, and I'm almost afraid to tell him.

"Yes," I whisper.

"Are you naked?"

I could tell him I am. How would he know? But I don't want to lie to him, even about something as trivial as what I'm wearing.

"No, not naked. I'm wearing a t-shirt." I'm actually wearing his t-shirt, the dark green one he loaned me yesterday, and that on impulse I stuffed in the bag with my clothes this morning, telling myself it was only polite to take it home and launder it for him before returning it.

But I know I have no intention of returning it. Or telling him.

"Take it off right now. I want you completely naked while you tell me your fantasy."

I set the phone down on the pillow beside me, then sit up enough to pull my t-shirt over my head and toss it on the floor. The way he just orders me to take off my clothes is hot. I like men who are confident in bed, who take control. But it has an even edgier connotation now that I realize he might be the head of the kind of business where he gives orders and people follow them, or else.