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He shifted so his body faced me a little bit more. The position was lazy. Almost arrogant.
“Pyper,” he said my name in a low purr, this deep huskiness laced within it. “I saw you in there.” He tipped his chin toward the party. “You were standing all alone, drinking your champagne with those little hands with red-painted nails.”
I glanced down at said fingers and the manicure I’d gotten yesterday because I knew I’d be coming to the party. I curled them into my palms, a sudden wave of shyness overtaking me.
“No need to hide,” he drawled lazily.
This man exuded whiskey and silk, mahogany and suede.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Now I’m comparing him to shit?
I had no doubt in my mind he was important to the company. Obviously, he was someone’s boss. Hello—he had that swagger and cockiness to him that said as much.
“I watched you long enough to know that you’re here alone. That you’re not wearing any jewelry from a boyfriend. No ring from a husband.”
My heart was racing faster now. God, how long had he been watching me? That should have scared the hell out of me and had me standing up and walking right back into that crowded room. There was safety in numbers.
But I stayed right where I was, and when he leaned in, I felt my eyelids droop a little, felt my breathing increase more.
“You’re single,” he said matter-of-factly, like he knew me better than I knew myself.
“Excuse me?” I sat up straighter, feeling my brows lower under my mask.
“I’m single.”
I didn’t miss how he steamrolled over my question. I also didn’t think too hard on why that short sentence rolling off his tongue had my inner thighs clenching on their own and my pulse throbbing right between my legs.
“Do you normally approach random women like this and give them your relationship status?” I kept my words light, but there was an undertone of letting him know if he thought I was some easy lay, he was mistaken.
Is he though? Shut up!
He chuckled deeply. Roughly. Goddamn him for the way he made me light up on the inside.
“You’re witty,” he said, all humor gone from his voice. “It turns me on.” Huskier now. More serious.
I was taken aback in the best way, if I were being totally fucking honest.
He didn’t speak. Not for a long while. So long that I shifted on the bench, trying not to let his very presence affect me as much.
“Tell me you are,” he demanded softly.
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. Then it clicked. My mouth dried, and I licked my lips. I shouldn’t have told him anything, but at the same time, I’d never felt so good. I felt high, drunk, and like I was living another life. I never thought about doing things recklessly, but I knew without a doubt what this man wanted.
Me.
He exuded that like the addicting cologne he wore.
I made a split-second decision—one I knew would shape everything going forward. Maybe for the better. Maybe for worse.
Either way, I was going for it.
“Yes. I’m turned on too,” I whispered.
The sound that came from him was unlike anything I could’ve described aside from saying it was masculine and needy.
“Come with me,” he ordered, as if he’d been expecting that answer. When he stood and held his hand out, I slipped mine into his and allowed him to help me up.
This was surreal.
