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“Listen”—he scooted her chair closer to hers—“why don’t you loosen up? Let the real Stacy out? I’d like to get to know her.”
“Why do you want to get to know me?” She truly wondered. David had been married to her and had never wanted to “get to know her.” “Besides, I’m a lot older than you are.”
“Do I look like I care? How old are you, anyway?”
Stacy didn’t believe in lying about her age, even to impress the likes of Michael Moretti. “Forty-five.”
“Well, you’re beautiful. You don’t look a day over thirty.”
Right. She looked good for her age, she knew, but thirty? “Right.”
“I’m not lying, sweetheart. You’re hot, and I really do want to get to know you.
“Why on earth would you want to get to know me?”
His hazel gaze penetrated hers. “Because when I first saw you standing there looking at my photograph, I couldn’t wait to get you into bed.”
Chapter Three
Goosebumps prickled her flesh. Her heart pounded and her tummy somersaulted. A gush of feminine awareness assaulted her from inside.
This is what it felt like—the sexual attraction she wrote about. That initial crackle of energy that passed between a man and a woman, so intense it was almost visible. A hunger, deep and carnal, stirred to life between her legs. A hunger that needed—no, demanded—to be sated.
She downed the rest of her cosmo just as the waitress set the drinks Michael had ordered onto the table. The alcohol scorched her throat, warmed her belly, intensified the raw heat growing in her core. She swallowed.
What would Starr do?
Starr Shannon was Stacy’s most popular heroine, the lead character in her best-selling erotic urban fantasy
series. Readers loved Starr’s brashness, her fiery nature. Starr didn’t wait around for life to find her, she took what she wanted. She made things happen. She created her own success. When she was attracted to a man, she let him know it. Starr was a sexual dynamo, a multi-orgasmic superwoman.
For just one night, Stacy would be Starr.
“Let’s go then.”
Michael picked up his scotch and swirled it around a little. The ice clinked against the glass. “Go where?”
“To bed? Isn’t that what you want?”
“Uh…”
Was that a blush creeping into his warm olive skin? Could he get any better looking?
“What?”
“Our drinks just got here.”
“So what? We’ll take them with us.” Stacy’s heart drummed a rhythmic cadence against her sternum. “Are you a man or an amoeba?”
“Um…a man, I assure you.”
Had she actually embarrassed him with that stupid line? It was from a movie, but she couldn’t remember which one at the moment. “That’s what I thought.” She stood and grabbed her drink. “To your room then?”
“I have a roommate. Dino.”
“But you wanted to go to your room before.”
“For a drink, yeah. Dino’s busy at the party. But to get busy… We might get interrupted.”
