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“Yes,” I growl so low that only she can hear me. “I’m in a hurry to get you home so I can peel that black dress off your body and fuck you until the sun comes up.”
Her eyes widen at my bold assumption. I know she wants it, too—otherwise, she wouldn’t be licking her lips and staring at me with a kind of glazed-over expression.
I’m about to show her exactly what being neighborly means—and it’ll be a night she’ll never forget.
Five
Naomi
He drags me away from the fancy hotel and back to the limousine.
The man’s got some confidence to do a thing like that, but I’m not about to argue. Something about the look on his face and the blaze in his eyes tells me that he’s not a man to argue with.
I find myself submitting under the pressure of this moment. Besides, I want to be with him in all ways, especially this—especially what I know is coming.
I trust him, though I don’t know why.
Maybe it’s the way he handles me so roughly—and yet there’s a tenderness there, too. Maybe it’s because I’ve been secretly obsessed for so long.
He’s in control, and I’ve never had a man be like that with me before. It’s something I’ve been craving in the dark recesses of my soul, but I haven’t even been able to admit that to myself…until now.
With him, my deepest desires threaten to come to the surface, and I think I might be game.
And yet, his touch, his force—as thrilling as it all is, he causes a steady stream of nerves to run through my body.
“Come on, baby,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist.
Gravity gives way to his touch, and I feel like I’m falling into an ocean of need, an abyss of temptation and entrancement—and I never wanna come out. I want him to touch me all the time, to talk to me all the time, and to ravage me in any way he sees fit.
“I want you, Naomi. And tonight you’ll be mine. Understand?”
Oh, fuck, yes, I understand. I’m dying to quiver underneath his capable hands. I’m dying to feel and to taste that large cock of his that I can see is straining against his pants.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask. And then I joke to lighten the mood, “Your place or mine?”
“Mine,” he growls, and the gravelly sound of his voice sends shivers down my spine.
I feel myself getting wetter by the second.
Paul gets me into the limousine and instructs the driver to go fast.
The entire ride, my heart is beating hard against my chest, and I wonder if he can tell how fucking nervous I am. His commanding presence makes me feel weak, and I ask him for another bourbon to try to gain some liquid courage.
He pours me some in a crystal glass, and I take it down in one gulp, thankful that the liquid burns my throat and does something to offset my focus on him.
He’s my dream guy, and this is my fantasy come true—and yet I can’t help but feel like my world is about to shatter into a million pieces.
We get to his place, and I feel…not ready.
I take his hand and allow him to lead me into his building. I look at The Bradford and think how my home is close, and I’ll be okay. I can handle this. He’s just a guy, after all.
He goes to a private elevator in the building, and once we get inside, his fingers are snaking through my hair, and he’s pulling me in for a kiss. He tastes and smells like bourbon and earthy sandalwood…a masculine scent all his own that I find myself becoming addicted to.
He tugs the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing my mouth to meet his own. And he kisses me there in the elevator. I feel like all the parts of me that have been fragmented are falling into place.
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
This man is the one.
