and slides the material of my dress back into place. He never lets go of me, not even for a second. He turns me in his arms and tugs my body against him. My body stiffens when I feel his hardness against my belly, but I relax as he splays a hand along the small of my back.
“Hi,” he whispers, softly brushing his lips along my jaw. I want to return the greeting, but his lips make me forget what I was going to say. There’s no time for me to recover when he crushes his mouth over mine. I hesitate, I swear I try to pull away, but it’s no use. The battle is lost when his tongue tangles with mine, not because he overpowers me, but because I completely surrender, angling my head so he can take the kiss deeper.
My hands explore his chest, loving the feel of him and not caring that this is wrong on so many levels. Not caring that this man has basically blackmailed me into being his glorified whore.
So wrong …
I’m dazed and sated by the time he finally breaks the kiss, looking at me through liquid eyes. A strange sense of warmth washes over me, but I still manage to detach my hands from their comfortable resting place.
“I ordered dinner. Are you hungry?” he asks me, and I notice the table set for dinner in the corner of the room. Turning my attention back to Oliver and staring at him with obvious confusion in my eyes, I feel like I’ve entered some sort of alternate universe.
“You ordered dinner?”
“Well, I have to eat, and I assumed that you might not have eaten yet,” he says, placing a hand on the small of my back and leading me over to the table. He holds out a chair for me and pushes it in as I take my seat. My eyes never leave him as I watch him sit in the chair across from me. I thought he’d have me in bed by now after how the evening started, but astonishingly, I was wrong. He wants to feed me. He reaches over and pulls the cover off my plate.
“Butternut squash ravioli with spinach, grape tomatoes, and toasted pine nuts.”
I look from my plate to him, again unable to hide my confusion.
“I ordered steak if you’d rather have that. I just presumed you’d like pasta.”
“I-It’s fine. It looks great.” I stutter a thank you before placing a napkin over my lap and picking up my fork. I avoid making eye contact, and instead, I concentrate on the meal he’s so accurately picked out for me. I stab a piece of ravioli with my fork, and I can feel his eyes on me as I take a bite. It’s unnerving.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I truly am sorry for the way things happened the other night.”
“Why are you sorry?” I murmur, still avoiding eye contact. “You didn’t know. I should have said something.”
I place all the blame on myself, and I hate that I do that. I should be blaming him for his part too, but at this point, keeping the peace is my main priority. Besides, he’s already apologized twice, so I’m pretty sure he’s accepted his part in this.
“Yes, you should have, but given the situation, I can see why you didn’t. I didn’t exactly make it easy for you to trust me.”
“Is that what this dinner is? An apology?”
“It’s just dinner.” He says it casually, and I almost believe him, but I’m quickly learning that nothing about Oliver is what it seems. There’s always something else, something more, an ulterior motive. Even still, that insane attraction I feel toward him won’t go away, and with the way he started the evening, I’m not sure it ever will. I put my fork down, place my hands on my lap, and finally make eye contact.
“Do you think we can just start over? Forget about what happened the other night and move on?”
“Kind of a hard night to forget,” he comments with a smirk that seriously does something to me. “But we can try.”
His voice is smooth and rich, and it goes through me like a drink of whiskey, warming me from the inside. Doing my best to ignore what I’m feeling, I drop my gaze back to the plate, pick up my
“Hi,” he whispers, softly brushing his lips along my jaw. I want to return the greeting, but his lips make me forget what I was going to say. There’s no time for me to recover when he crushes his mouth over mine. I hesitate, I swear I try to pull away, but it’s no use. The battle is lost when his tongue tangles with mine, not because he overpowers me, but because I completely surrender, angling my head so he can take the kiss deeper.
My hands explore his chest, loving the feel of him and not caring that this is wrong on so many levels. Not caring that this man has basically blackmailed me into being his glorified whore.
So wrong …
I’m dazed and sated by the time he finally breaks the kiss, looking at me through liquid eyes. A strange sense of warmth washes over me, but I still manage to detach my hands from their comfortable resting place.
“I ordered dinner. Are you hungry?” he asks me, and I notice the table set for dinner in the corner of the room. Turning my attention back to Oliver and staring at him with obvious confusion in my eyes, I feel like I’ve entered some sort of alternate universe.
“You ordered dinner?”
“Well, I have to eat, and I assumed that you might not have eaten yet,” he says, placing a hand on the small of my back and leading me over to the table. He holds out a chair for me and pushes it in as I take my seat. My eyes never leave him as I watch him sit in the chair across from me. I thought he’d have me in bed by now after how the evening started, but astonishingly, I was wrong. He wants to feed me. He reaches over and pulls the cover off my plate.
“Butternut squash ravioli with spinach, grape tomatoes, and toasted pine nuts.”
I look from my plate to him, again unable to hide my confusion.
“I ordered steak if you’d rather have that. I just presumed you’d like pasta.”
“I-It’s fine. It looks great.” I stutter a thank you before placing a napkin over my lap and picking up my fork. I avoid making eye contact, and instead, I concentrate on the meal he’s so accurately picked out for me. I stab a piece of ravioli with my fork, and I can feel his eyes on me as I take a bite. It’s unnerving.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I truly am sorry for the way things happened the other night.”
“Why are you sorry?” I murmur, still avoiding eye contact. “You didn’t know. I should have said something.”
I place all the blame on myself, and I hate that I do that. I should be blaming him for his part too, but at this point, keeping the peace is my main priority. Besides, he’s already apologized twice, so I’m pretty sure he’s accepted his part in this.
“Yes, you should have, but given the situation, I can see why you didn’t. I didn’t exactly make it easy for you to trust me.”
“Is that what this dinner is? An apology?”
“It’s just dinner.” He says it casually, and I almost believe him, but I’m quickly learning that nothing about Oliver is what it seems. There’s always something else, something more, an ulterior motive. Even still, that insane attraction I feel toward him won’t go away, and with the way he started the evening, I’m not sure it ever will. I put my fork down, place my hands on my lap, and finally make eye contact.
“Do you think we can just start over? Forget about what happened the other night and move on?”
“Kind of a hard night to forget,” he comments with a smirk that seriously does something to me. “But we can try.”
His voice is smooth and rich, and it goes through me like a drink of whiskey, warming me from the inside. Doing my best to ignore what I’m feeling, I drop my gaze back to the plate, pick up my
Similar Books
