Excerpt
“Most people just think of lingerie in simple terms, but I know it’s more,” Drew said softly. Natasha’s gaze met his. He could tell she was trying to look amused, but the embers were there in her eyes. He just had to fan them into a flame.
“I know that lingerie is a form of titillation for both the man and the woman. A woman wears it to visually stimulate a man, sure. But she also wears it to stimulate herself. The feel of the silk caressing her skin, the raspy scratch of lace, the seduction of chiffon. The tactile stimulus that not only makes her vividly aware of her femininity, but of how to sexually arouse herself. Of the pleasure of touch, yes. But also of the pleasure of anticipation.”
Tasha’s gray eyes darkened like a winter storm and a soft flush warmed those sharp cheekbones. Yeah, the flames were flickering. Drew picked up a royal blue satin thing she’d explained was a teddy and trailed it over her forearm. Her breath caught.
“For the man, lingerie is a visual feast, and a tantalizing promise. What does it say? Demure pink silk, flirty polka-dots on cotton or hot red satin. Each one tells a man what kind of mood, what kind of sex, his lady has in store for him. And each night it can be different. As often as a woman changes her mood, she can change her lingerie,” he rasped out.
Tasha took a shaky breath.
Yeah, he had her.
Then she raised a patrician brow in that haughty, lady-of-the-manor way that used to drive him crazy. Hell, still drove him crazy. “And sometimes a woman simply chooses her lingerie according to the needs of her outfit for the day.”
