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The veranda is decorated with sparkly lights that twinkle above and varying designs of the pink and white roses. There’s even a fucking wall of roses, a Kanye West-style rose wall. Yeah, yeah, it’s a bit much, but it’s worth it.
The whole scene complements the hue of the full moon and the few bright stars in the sky nicely, and the city lights make an impeccable backdrop.
Like I said, it looks like a movie set. And whoever did this needs a raise because it’s fucking impressive.
Irritation gnawing at me, I look down at my watch again—she was supposed to have been here a while ago.
I laugh. I wouldn’t be surprised if she chickened out. Sometimes, I wonder if she’s all talk and no action.
Perhaps she’s too afraid to go through with this plan. I knew she didn’t want to be in business with me again, but I was certain that her work was more important to her than her ego.
I look out over the balcony, casually checking to see if she’s below, hoping that my suspicions aren’t true.
“Tanner,” I hear from behind me.
I turn towards my name and am stunned, my body shocked from the sight of her.
My breath escapes me, and my heart begins to pound.
Fuck me. She is too much.
Her golden hair glistens underneath the shimmering lights, and her skin glows.
Her dress hugs her curves, accentuating her tight body, those delicious breasts, and that firm ass.
I swallow, searching for my breath. And my dick stiffens against my pants, eager to fill her.
Fuck, she can make me cum just from the sight of her.
She smiles softly and walks to me.
She eyes the space, and I notice a sparkle in her eyes.
My nerves settle when I see her pleased expression, though it’s quickly replaced with my desire to rip that dress off her.
I need to calm the hell down. If I don’t, this dinner will be excruciating.
“Elsa.” I nod, remaining as cool and collected as I possibly can.
I gesture towards the table in the center of our private area, and she strides over to it.
“You look stunning,” I say, greedily taking in every inch of her.
“Thank you,” she replies curtly. I can tell my compliment makes her nervous.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I ordered before you got here. A bottle of their best Cabernet Sauvignon and two filets. You’re favorite.”
She looks up at me and purses her lips.
Ah, there we go. I smile at her, loving the fullness of her mouth and that expression specifically.
“You remembered?” she asks, surprised.
“I always remember how a woman likes her meat,” I wink at her.
She shakes her head and mockingly laughs. “And to think I thought you were being sincere.”
“Me, sincere? Angel, have you forgotten everything about me?”
