She swept from the room as he turned slowly, watching the little skirt swish around her upper thighs, nearly baring her ass as she left the room. His eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists, leashing the almost violent response rising inside him.
She was pushing him. Pushing him too far, straining what little control he had left.
What the hell was it about her? Why did she tempt a part of him that no other woman had ever touched, even Kimberly? Why did she make him hunger for things that he couldn’t even put a name to? And why the f**k was he letting her do it?
Chapter Three
She was shaking inside. She was nearly shaking on the outside.
Courtney could feel the nervous energy racing through her body, pulsing nearly as furiously as the arousal flaming across her nerve endings. Her pu**y felt swollen, intensely sensitive, her cl*t rasping against the silk of her thong as she walked sedately down the stairs and headed for the front door.
Not that she had any true plans for the night. She would allow Ian’s chauffeur to drive her to a few clubs, perhaps dance a few hours as she drowned her sorrows and her arousal in a few stiff drinks, since Ian wasn’t volunteering his stiff cock.
And how stiff it looked beneath his slacks. Thick and long, mouthwateringly tempting. She wanted nothing more than to go to her knees and release the engorged flesh to her hungry mouth. She could almost feel it, so hard and thick her lips would feel bruised, so hot she would feel blistered. And she wanted it. Longed for it.
As she reached the foyer, she was aware of Ian moving down the steps behind her, almost stalking her as though she were his prey. A shiver worked up her spine, part trepidation, part satisfaction. Finally, his reserve was faltering. If she had known that visiting The Club would bring such a reaction, she would have done so the first week.
The ringing of the doorbell had her pausing as she shrugged on the short, thin leather jacket that matched the outfit she wore. She watched, curious, as the house butler, Jason, moved from the sitting room, casting her a cool look as he gripped the doorknob and opened the double doors.
Courtney felt the immediate tension that filled the room as Ian stepped from the stairs. She was between them, the man she longed for, and the mysterious, devilishly handsome Saudi.
“Well, my luck knows no bounds this night.” The stranger stepped into the foyer, tall, nearly as tall as Ian’s six feet three inches, his black eyes blazing with lust.
Where it had done little to affect her earlier, that look, when paired with the flames she could feel licking over her flesh from Ian’s gaze…she nearly lost the strength in her knees. Dear heaven, they had yet to even touch her, but she could feel the need to, the lust racing around them.
“Prince Khalid el Hamid Mustafa,” the butler announced his presence, his voice an irritating buzz to her side.
Courtney turned, surrounded by testosterone, until her gaze met Ian’s. What she saw there was nearly more than she could bear without begging for his touch. She turned back quickly, her lips curving into a smile as she met the Saudi’s wicked look.
“Khalid, you weren’t invited up here,” Ian sniped rudely as the butler closed the doors behind the other man.
“I need an invitation?” Khalid lifted a brow curiously, his gaze trained on her. “I wasn’t aware of that. And you haven’t introduced me to your lovely guest, Ian.”
Oh, she could just imagine the anger rising inside Ian now. She flicked a glance his way, seeing the stiff set of his shoulders, the flat line of his mouth. But his eyes were burning, not with anger, but with arousal.
“Courtney Marguerita Mattlaw. Prince Khalid el Hamid Mustafa,” he introduced them, with no pretense to civility.
“A most beautiful name, for a most beautiful young woman,” the Prince murmured as he accepted her hand, bending his head gracefully to place a dark kiss on the sensitive flesh of her wrist. “And a most bold young woman as well.”
She allowed her expression to smooth to one of amused patience as she saw the laughter in his gaze, the quick, hidden glance behind her before those dark eyes seemed to flash a hidden message her way. A co-conspirator? It appeared she might well need the help.
Besides, causing trouble was so much more fun when one had help.
“Bold?” she questioned him flirtatiously. “And what would lead you to such a conclusion?”
“It is not every young woman who would dare breach the walls of a club such as the one Ian heads. I would definitely describe such a woman as bold.”
“I believe I would use the word…adventurous rather than bold,” she amended his description. “Bold implies a less permanent trait. Adventurous is more genetic.” She glanced at Ian once again, wondering if he caught the suggestive implication.
Sweet mercy, blue eyes could burn, they could glow with lust, and he was proof of it.
“Adventurous it is,” Khalid agreed. “I wondered, as our less than charming host has thrown you from The Club, if you would perhaps grace me with your presence for dinner tonight? My chauffeur is waiting outside, the limo cozy and warm. I believe I could perhaps help relieve the incredible boredom that must be filling your day, trapped as you are with our less than adventurous Mr. Sinclair.”
Laughter trembled on her lips, though she held it back valiantly. She was certain the description of less than adventurous was a grave insult to the man she knew Ian was. But it tempted her sense of humor, her sense of daring to push him further. He had all but ignored her this week pretending there was no attraction, no need flaring between them. She wasn’t about to allow this advantage to slip through her fingers.
“What a lovely offer.” She smiled slowly, flirtatiously. “And one I’ll gratefully accept, Prince Mustafa.”
“Khalid, please.” He grimaced at the title. “Ian and his butler persist in tacking the title to the name. An illegitimate prince is not much of a prince at all. Especially one who prefers the wicked temptations of the West, rather than his father’s beliefs.”
“And some men are a prince, whether born to it, or deserving it,” she praised his offer of escape in glowing words. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”
His hand moved to her back, riding dangerously low on her hips, his fingers nearly cupping the curve of her ass as he steered her to the door. She allowed the muscles there to clench, the tingling arousal electrifying her as she felt Ian’s gaze on her rear.