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Jesus hates me. I swear he must've been like "let's test this broad's principles tonight," because the way James is looking makes me forget my plan. The floozy in me is coming out, and for a second, I let her spread her legs.
I've seen him in a suit before, but this one is all black, including the shirt and tie. My gaze openly rakes the length of his strong body, instant thirst consuming me. I want to climb him like a tree and dig my claws into him. The way this man is looking makes me want to get lost in him for hours. His salt and pepper hair is brushed back, giving him a polished look, but it’s his gaze that reduces me to a stationary object. All I can focus on are his searing blue eyes and the way he's stroking his beard while he stares at me, like he wants to devour me in front of everyone.
James Riviera is the definition of sex.
He subtly crooks two fingers at me to come hither and I all but drop to my knees and crawl to him.
Someone's obnoxious laugh knocks some sense into me, and I start walking toward him on steady legs, telling myself I'm Valentina right now and that's what he's going to call me.
"Sweetheart," he whispers in my ear, his arm going around my back. His breath is hot and it tickles my neck. "You're fucking killing me in that dress right now. Exactly what I'd imagined you'd look like." Tipping my chin up with two fingers, he drops a soft kiss to my lips and my eyes flutter shut. "Your legs and those shoes are going to look sensational wrapped around my hips. Tonight, I'm fucking you against the window—from behind—and maybe against the wall, or in front of a mirror, with those shoes."
"I love when you talk dirty to me," I say, my voice husky.
A smirk starts to form on his face but it stops when he sees that I'm shooting daggers at him.
"But, James, let's get one thing straight—never, ever have anything delivered to my place again. You know, where I live with your daughter? You're a fucking dickhead for that one."
I reach for his glass—probably another favorite obnoxiously priced cognac—and drink the entire thing. He just raises his hand and waves two fingers at the bartender, then looks back at me. He's too suave for his own good.
"Do you know that she stood right next to me as I opened the gift? Yeah, she did. And she insisted she wanted to help me get ready, which she did, thank you very much. All I could think about is what a shit friend I am that she's helping me get ready to see her fucking father. What else I could I tell her? That it's from a client? Then I would have to explain what that—"
James slams his mouth to mine in a hard kiss, grabbing the back of my head and clutching my hip. He doesn't ask, just takes, and slips his tongue into my mouth, stroking me the right way, enough to make me forget just for a second that I'm aggravated with him.
I can taste the alcohol on his tongue and I kiss him back with the same drive.
"Does she know?" he asks, pulling back.
I blink rapidly and stare up through my voluminous lash extensions. "No, obviously. She'd murder me if she found out."
James slides a drink my way, then picks his up and sips, watching me. "Then that’s all that matters. Let it go." My nostrils flare and he sees it. "I won't do it again," he adds.
I frown. "Really?"
"Yeah. I'm too old for games, and I don't do miscommunication. You want to talk it out? Let's do it. Just makes the makeup fucking that much sweeter."
I grimace and shake my head, trying not to grin. I wish he didn't make my heart race for him.
"I should've expected that."
"I wasn't thinking. I should've been, but I just had this vision of you and it's all I could see." He eyes my body, and God, I love the way he looks at me. "You really do look incredible."
"You look pretty dashing yourself. My first thought was I wanted to climb you like a tree," I say casually like I'm talking about the weather. I sip my drink.
James laughs, and I can tell he likes when I say things like that to him. "I clean up well," he jokes. Licking his lips, he says, "I figured we'd meet here before the event and go over a few things."
"Good idea. I have a request too." He puts his hand out, encouraging me to go first. "Only call me Valentina. Please, don't call me Aubrey."
He frowns. "In general or just tonight?"
"Well, I would prefer in general, but definitely if we're out somewhere."
His brows lower. James seems offended but I try not to make anything of it. There's no need to make it personal.
"What else?" he asks tightly.
I purse my lips together. "I can't think of anything right now. It was just the package at my apartment, and the name thing."
"Did you break up with the boyfriend?" he asks.
