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She just kept herself from rolling her eyes. Normally, she’d never tolerate quite a line. Whatever or whoever Xavier Clifton was, he wasn’t a billionaire. Those types didn’t go out after hours to regular DC bars, no matter how bad their day had been or what kind of sob story or breakup they might be reeling from. But he was gorgeous and charming, so it was worth still carrying on the banter with him.
“Anyway, when I was young I’d have given anything to be able to make movies. I have a YouTube channel now where I have some followers, but I review the work of others while I actually work as a waitress. I guess, and this is stupid, but I’d want to
direct if I could do anything in the world.”
“Did you go to film school?”
She shrugged and stretched up in her seat. “I’m still saving up. My parents don’t have a lot of money, and it takes a lot to save up for a good film school out West or to live in NYC. It’s just slow going.”
“And no one knows that about you?”
“Oh, my friend Tonya knows about the channel but thinks I only like riffing on bad flicks. I can’t tell any of my friends about it, and even my parents think I’m just going to fall into waitressing. I guess, I dunno, it sounds so grandiose that I’m going to be the next Spielberg or something. I didn’t want people to pat me on the head and tell me that was nice but deep down pity me as being the crazy gal, you know?”
“I like your dream,” Xavier supplied. “I don’t think it would sound any odder to your family than my dream of training Arabians and riding all day would to mine.”
“If only we didn’t have to do what was expected of us,” Sandra said, surprised when Xavier put one large, warm hand over her own on the counter.
“Maybe tonight we don’t. I don’t know exactly what kind of day you’ve had, but maybe just this once we can have what we want, not worry about what everyone else is thinking.” He stared into her eyes, and those stunning emerald orbs of his took her breath away and kept her from thinking clearly. “What do you think?”
She nodded and stood up, offering him her hand. “I was wondering if you’d like to dance.”
Xavier’s grin lit up his face. God, how she wanted to taste not just his lips but his dimples. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Sandra caught sight of Tonya, who spotted them from the bar. She had her thumbs up and was grinning back at them. Of course, Tonya, who was practically fearless, would be egging this on. Under normal circumstances, Sandra would be cautious, the responsible one, but the alcohol was buzzing through her system. Besides, she’d been that way with Zane. She’d been the good girl, and all it had resulted in was humiliation and sadness.
Tonight, just for once, maybe she could do what she wanted.
After all, she’d never see Xavier again.
What could it hurt?
She sauntered to the dance floor hand in hand with Xavier. The bass was beating ferociously around them, and it felt so natural to have him curl his body around hers from behind and his length pressed up against her as his arms snaked around her waist. She pressed flat against him, felt the heat of his body flowing into her own. Sandra pulled away from him and smiled seductively up at Xavier’s face. Her hips moved with a sensuous rhythm, swaying from side to side as she beckoned him back to her embrace.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she pressed her hips against his. His mouth met hers and then she found his tongue teasing her own, begging for a caress. Sandra opened her mouth so that she could be devoured by his kiss and his lips would taste her, his tongue would probe the hidden depths within her mouth. Heat flared across her belly and spread to her core. She was sure had nothing to do with her drunkenness.
No, that was all Xavier. His hands roamed the expanse of her body, pressing into her ass, and pushing her closer against his hardness.
She moaned and nibbled at his ear. Leaning up, she asked, “Do you have some place private we can go? I need to do more than dance.”
Xavier held her tightly still, but his tone was a bit less certain than it had been before. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel you have to do anything you don’t want to.”
She moved her mouth lower to graze her teeth over the stubble on his chin. “I want this. Trust me, Xavier. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
His green eyes regarded her, as if trying to ferret out any hesitation. “Good, then I have an idea. Come with me to my limo.”
“Your what?” Her eyes widened, and while she still didn’t think Xavier was a billionaire, Sandra was beginning to realize part of his story at the bar had to be true. “You have a limo?”
“I want a place more private for us than a spare room the staff still go in and out of. Now, come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her to the back lot.
The breeze of the cool spring air hit her full on as they exited Atlantis. The early April night still felt more like March, and after coming out from the throng of bodies and the heated dance floor, she felt the temperature change acutely. Shivering a little, she burrowed into Xavier’s muscular torso.
He rubbed at her shoulder as he led her to the VIP side of the club’s parking lot. “Are you okay? You’re shivering.”
“Lace dress plus cold snap isn’t a great addition problem,” she said.
“Then I’ll make sure the driver hits the heat as soon as he can,” Xavier said, opening up the door and letting her slip inside first.
“Wait, the driver?”
