She arched a brow at me, a clear challenge in those liquid brown eyes. “I think,” she said, each word distinct, “that I said, no sex and no kissing. I can’t just change my mind because you want me to.”
“Not even if I ask extra nice?” I asked, tempting her to smile with my most charming look.
“Not even then.”
I nodded and tried to look like I’d been defeated. “Okay,” I said, “the rules have been established.”
“Good—”
“No nice asking. Just dirty, naughty asking.”
Her breath caught and her nipples puckered. I was watching, so I saw them clear as day. And a blush rose up her cleavage—a green light if I ever saw one. Except, of course, it wasn’t a green light for sex. It was a “game on” light. One that said she was interested, despite her words. I wasn’t going to force her. Of course not. But I was going to play. I wanted to see how far I could push her. Or rather, how far I could tempt her. And maybe I could make my fantasy come true tonight. Get an apple strudel girl in bed for a night of naughty heaven.
That was my plan. It usually worked for me because good girls rarely came back for a second taste if I was especially filthy. Sure, Ellie would party tonight. I’d make sure of it, and it would be heaven. But as long as I pushed her well beyond her usual limits, odds were that she wouldn’t come back. We’d both remember the evening fondly as she went off to marry a tame accountant or something.
Perfect. And from the way she bit her lip—in anxiety or excitement, I couldn’t tell—she knew exactly what I was thinking.
Chapter Five
Ellie
Oh hell. I was an idiot. I’d just drawn up battle lines with an elite competitor. Whether that competitor was a pro baseball player, an Olympian, or even a Roman gladiator, they all lived to smash barriers. Winning was core to their personality. All I’d meant to do was practice getting rejected, and suddenly I was in a battle for my virtue. Or at least, that’s how he made it seem.
And—weird thing here—I was completely thrilled. Even as my higher brain functions were screaming, “Abort! Abort!” all the other parts of me were flushing with adrenaline. Heat flowed through my body, and I found myself straightening in my seat. I squared my shoulders and arched an eyebrow in challenge. WTF? I never arched a brow. Hell, I sucked at flirting. But suddenly, I was matching his posture. Where he was lounging beside me, a speculative gleam in his eye, I let my hands relax in my lap, as if I, too, were completely at ease. With that ridiculously arched eyebrow thing I’d just done, suddenly we were playing a dating/sex game, as if I knew what the hell I was doing.
I didn’t! I most emphatically did not. But damn, hadn’t I always wanted to be this kind of girl? Someone who flirted outrageously, had no problem being risqué in public, and was a wildcat in bed? I’d read books about those kinds of women. I’d studied texts on how to do exotic sexual moves. And now, for the first time in my life, I could try out things I’d only imagined.
This was the perfect time. I was on a fantasy date with a man who—by all accounts—was used to wild women. Why not let my bad girl out a bit? It was just flirting, and we weren’t likely to have a second date. So why not act like the person I’d always wanted to be?
Suddenly, I was smiling and really looking forward to the evening…assuming I dared do something I’d only imagined before. Rather than focus on how panicked I ought to be feeling, I forced my brain to innocuous conversation.
“So where are we eating?”
He got a Cheshire cat grin. “Alinea.”
I stared at him, startled enough to press forward in my seat. “Seriously?”
“Yup. Do you know it?”
“I knowofit.” I pressed my hand to my lips, trying to hold back my excitement. “Ever sinceTop Chefstarted, Rachel and I have this game of where we’d like to eat when we’re filthy rich.”
“Was Alinea on the list?”
“It was on both our lists! It’s one of the thirteen restaurants to receive a three-star Michelin rating. It’s number fifteen in the top restaurants in the world. And they put dessert on the tabletop, displayed like a piece of art in front of you. From what I’ve seen, it looks too good to eat.”
“Except you will, right? I mean, I wouldn’t want to eat alone.”
I had to physically hold back my squeal of delight. “Of course I’m going to eat it. Dessert at Alinea?” I was shaking in total glee. “How did you get reservations? They book months in advance.”
He shrugged and looked abashed. “Gia did it. Publicity and all that.” He arched a brow. “There are going to be pictures. You up for that?”
“For a dinner at Alinea, I’d pose in the nude!”
I meant that as a joke. I mean, honestly, I was never going to pose nude, for any reason. But the way his eyes abruptly intensified and his nostrils flared made me suddenly too aware of the possibility. Did he really want nude pictures of me? Suddenly, the word “never” seemed a little too severe.
Wow. Dirty, naughty asking was right.
“I’m going to remind you of that later on tonight,” he said, his voice a seductive purr.
