get you?” he asks.
“An explanation as to why I’m here would be nice,” I reply. “And while you’re at it, care to tell me how you knew I’d be here in the first place?” It reeks of the sort of mildly stalkerish shit that Zach Savage had pulled with Bethany when they were dating. It had put my back up then, and I’m not entirely okay with it now either. I watch him and wonder if all billionaires are prone to such behavior. “Did you follow me here?”
He picks up a delicate looking hors d’oeuvre with his fingers, tosses it into his mouth and chews before he replies.
“No I didn’t,” is all he says. “I’ve decided to play your game. Or an abbreviated version of it, anyway.”
I open my mouth to press him more on how he knew where I’d be, but I find myself asking instead, “And what game is that?”
“The one where we dance around the fact that we want to fuck each other, because one of us doesn’t know how to take what’s in front of them without the song and dance.”
My pulse kicks up a notch. “What the—”
His raised hand stops my response and I’m stunned I actually obey. “You want me, Keely. I sure as hell want you. Call me a bastard for seeing what I want and going after it, but I intend to fuck you very, very soon. I’d prefer to do it without having to treat you like a bimbo princess who needs guiding into what can be a pleasurable experience for both of us. Frankly, it’s tedious and unattractive, considering you’re intelligent enough to cut the bullshit and admit this is what you want too.”
My mouth drops open and I splutter, “Does this brand of crap actually work to get you laid?”
He selects an array of finger foods and places them on a plate. “You assume I’ve ever had to work this hard.”
There’s a compliment in there somewhere, but I can’t see it for the red haze of anger clouding my brain and my judgment. “For someone who’s obviously skilled enough to be the man you are today, you have a shockingly dense outlook on what makes a woman happy.”
He continues to inspect the food on the dishes. “You’re under the misapprehension that I’m in this to make you happy. I’m not. I want to fuck you and keep fucking you until I’m satisfied. Then I have every intention of letting you go.”
I look around, seeking some sort of divine revelation as to why I’m still sitting here listening to this arrogant bastard. “Are you for real?”
“I am. I promise. Eat.” He holds out the plate in front of me. I look from the offering in his hand and back to his face.
Everything about this wrong. So wrong. And yet my heart hasn’t stopped racing since I entered the room. And each time he mentions fucking me, my body goes crazy hot and my insides churn with blinding excitement.
He moves closer when I don’t take the plate. Long, elegant fingers pluck a sesame seed covered morsel that he dips into a dark condiment before he holds it to my lips. “Try this. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Because you’re an expert on the things I enjoy?” I snap.
He says nothing, just continues to hold the food a whisper away from my lips until they part of their own accord. My tongue slides out to help the morsel in, and his gaze drops to my mouth. He watches me as I chew, and I try not to moan at the sharp and spicy explosion of flavors on my tongue from the Thai food. I finally glance down at the dishes on the table and realize each one is comprised of delicacies from my favorite food regions—Asia and Europe.
Surprise widens my eyes, and I glance back to him to see something shift in his eyes, a hunger so wild it’s almost inhuman. He feeds me another mouthful, and his fingers brush lightly and deliberately over my lips before he withdraws.
My breath catches, and his mouth twitches in a ghost of a smile. He tosses two morsels into his mouth and chews with the ruthless efficiency of a predator. My loins catch fire watching him chew and I try to tear my gaze away,
“An explanation as to why I’m here would be nice,” I reply. “And while you’re at it, care to tell me how you knew I’d be here in the first place?” It reeks of the sort of mildly stalkerish shit that Zach Savage had pulled with Bethany when they were dating. It had put my back up then, and I’m not entirely okay with it now either. I watch him and wonder if all billionaires are prone to such behavior. “Did you follow me here?”
He picks up a delicate looking hors d’oeuvre with his fingers, tosses it into his mouth and chews before he replies.
“No I didn’t,” is all he says. “I’ve decided to play your game. Or an abbreviated version of it, anyway.”
I open my mouth to press him more on how he knew where I’d be, but I find myself asking instead, “And what game is that?”
“The one where we dance around the fact that we want to fuck each other, because one of us doesn’t know how to take what’s in front of them without the song and dance.”
My pulse kicks up a notch. “What the—”
His raised hand stops my response and I’m stunned I actually obey. “You want me, Keely. I sure as hell want you. Call me a bastard for seeing what I want and going after it, but I intend to fuck you very, very soon. I’d prefer to do it without having to treat you like a bimbo princess who needs guiding into what can be a pleasurable experience for both of us. Frankly, it’s tedious and unattractive, considering you’re intelligent enough to cut the bullshit and admit this is what you want too.”
My mouth drops open and I splutter, “Does this brand of crap actually work to get you laid?”
He selects an array of finger foods and places them on a plate. “You assume I’ve ever had to work this hard.”
There’s a compliment in there somewhere, but I can’t see it for the red haze of anger clouding my brain and my judgment. “For someone who’s obviously skilled enough to be the man you are today, you have a shockingly dense outlook on what makes a woman happy.”
He continues to inspect the food on the dishes. “You’re under the misapprehension that I’m in this to make you happy. I’m not. I want to fuck you and keep fucking you until I’m satisfied. Then I have every intention of letting you go.”
I look around, seeking some sort of divine revelation as to why I’m still sitting here listening to this arrogant bastard. “Are you for real?”
“I am. I promise. Eat.” He holds out the plate in front of me. I look from the offering in his hand and back to his face.
Everything about this wrong. So wrong. And yet my heart hasn’t stopped racing since I entered the room. And each time he mentions fucking me, my body goes crazy hot and my insides churn with blinding excitement.
He moves closer when I don’t take the plate. Long, elegant fingers pluck a sesame seed covered morsel that he dips into a dark condiment before he holds it to my lips. “Try this. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Because you’re an expert on the things I enjoy?” I snap.
He says nothing, just continues to hold the food a whisper away from my lips until they part of their own accord. My tongue slides out to help the morsel in, and his gaze drops to my mouth. He watches me as I chew, and I try not to moan at the sharp and spicy explosion of flavors on my tongue from the Thai food. I finally glance down at the dishes on the table and realize each one is comprised of delicacies from my favorite food regions—Asia and Europe.
Surprise widens my eyes, and I glance back to him to see something shift in his eyes, a hunger so wild it’s almost inhuman. He feeds me another mouthful, and his fingers brush lightly and deliberately over my lips before he withdraws.
My breath catches, and his mouth twitches in a ghost of a smile. He tosses two morsels into his mouth and chews with the ruthless efficiency of a predator. My loins catch fire watching him chew and I try to tear my gaze away,
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