Tease Me by Dawn Atkins Page A

careful she fairly melted.
    He used his teeth to tear open a Band-Aid, holding her gaze. Could something happen? Chills raced along her nerves and she held her breath while he softly pressed each pad in place.
    Finished, he lifted her foot. “Nice toes,” he said, running a finger over their tops, studying them. “Round and even.”
    She shuddered at the sensation.
    “Feel good?”
    She could only nod.
    “I bet your arches ache.” He massaged her instep with both hands, using a firm stroke.
    “Oh, God, that’s soo-o-o good.” She had to brace herself with two hands on the backless stool so she wouldn’t fall off altogether.
    “Sounds like it.” He had to clear his throat again. He did a lot of that around her, as if he were clearing thoughts, too—intimate ones, she hoped. He curved her sole over his knuckles and tugged downward in a fabulously skilled way.
    She fought the urge to moan—it sounded too much like sexual pleasure, which this almost was.
    “I do this for the dancers once in a while,” he said,moving to the ligaments in her toes and the muscles at the ball of her foot, avoiding her blisters. “They wear monster heels.”
    “No wonder the girls like you so much.” Of course, he probably slept with some of them. Why not her, too?
    “Mmm,” he said, rubbing the base of her heel. He moved to her ankle and slightly up her calf with a delicious twisting motion that turned her to taffy. He kept at it, squeezing the muscles with perfect strength so that she had to gasp and wiggle in her seat. A faint moan escaped, despite her efforts to hold it in.
    At her knee, he hesitated. Would he go higher? She wanted him to. Desperately.
    But he released her leg with an outblown breath and picked up her other foot, rubbing its surface with his hot palm, then running his thumbs across the tops of her insteps and along the ligaments between her toes. So lovely, so relaxing, so arousing . The looser her feet and calves got, the tighter her sex became.
    She wanted him to keep at it, keep going, slide those fingers higher, until he was touching her there . She wanted him so bad she was feverish with it. Did he want her as much? There was the bulge to consider. She opened her eyes.
    Jackson stopped rubbing and looked at her. Oh, yeah, he wanted her. Bad. She had to take action. Her heart battered her rib cage and she could hardly breathe, but she made herself move. She extended her toes and deliberately rubbed the ball of her foot across Jackson’s zipper and the solid length of him, warm under her foot.
    He made a sound, his body quaked and his eyes drifted closed. When he opened them, pure fire blazed there. Pure fire and helpless desire.
     
    J ACKSON COULDN’T BELIEVE what his sweet houseguest was doing with her toes. Or that he was allowing it. And he had no intention of stopping her, either.
    He’d had women caress his joint with incredible skill, but the barest brush of Heidi’s foot over his zipper had blind lust pounding through him like never before. She sat there, dressed like a bag lady, arousing more than a lap dance from the hottest dancer.
    God, he wanted her. He wanted to do what her eyes were asking him to do—slide higher up her leg, shove under her skirt and touch her. She breathed roughly and fingers of blush surged up her cheeks the way blood filled his parts. He knew his reaction was as plain on his face as it was under her foot.
    He imagined touching her under those sensible panties, making her squeal and rock against his finger until she came.
    But he couldn’t do it. No matter how hot and hungry and desperate she made him. She would want more than he had in him.
    Two dancers entered the dressing room, laughing together, granting him the perfect out. “Company,” he said, nodding at the women, then regretfully moved her foot off his lap and to the floor. “Back to work, huh?”
    “Right. Back to work.” She flushed with surprise, uneasy about what had just happened, he could tell. She