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“Fine, but my homemaking skills aren’t hopeless,” I say, as I swing the door open just as another loud knock sounds out through the room. “H…” My mouth loses the ability to speak the rest of my greeting. I’m standing in my doorway—in my pjs and pink fluffy socks—staring at the one person I’ve been doing my best to avoid.To not even think about.What ishedoing here?
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His hand comes up and rests on my forehead. He’s touching me… Why is he touching me?
“Ah, Hol, WTF. Why the bloody hell don’t our Uber Eats drivers look likethat? Is it an American thing?” Reilly’s voice breaks me out of my stupor.
“Um, what are you doing here?”
“You didn’t show up to dinner.” I wait for him to explain further. He doesn’t.
“So, you what? Thought you’d come knock on my door for…?”
“First, to make sure you were okay. Second, to have dinner with you, of course.” He holds up bags of takeout.
“Right. Sorry, I’ve already eaten,” I lie. I cannot be alone with this man.
“You’ll have to try harder than that, dolcezza. I got here just as your delivery driver pulled up.Thisis the foodyouordered.”
“What happened to the driver? I haven’t paid for that yet. Hold on, let me get my purse.” Without thinking, I walk back to the kitchen and rummage through the mess on the bench. I turn with a start when I hear the door close behind me.Shit.Instinctively, I back up, my heart racing as my panic increases. He’s in my apartment. In my apartment, where the only exit’s blocked… by him.
How the hell did I get myself into this situation? I look around. Maybe there’s a window I can climb through. A fire escape?
“Cazzo, dolcezza, you’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s just dinner.” The guy walks towards me, placing the bags on the counter.
“Ah, Holly, I have 9-1-1 already dialed. Need me to connect the call?” Reilly prompts.
Shit, I forgot she was still on video chat. “No, I’m okay.” I walk around the counter and pick up the phone. “Rye, I’m going to call you back later.”
“No, you don’t. Who the hell is the hottie in the suit wanting to have dinner with you? Hol, you’ve been in New York for what? A day? And you’ve got a manlike thatalready lining up for you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have any men lining up for me, idiot. Bye, love you. Chat later.” I hang up the call before she can respond. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough in front ofthe hottie in a suit.
And I’m still not sure if I should be looking for a quick escape. Or maybe a weapon…
ChapterSeven
Hearing Holly say she doesn’t have men lining up for her is music to my ears. But the fact that she’s currently looking for an escape route (or perhaps a method of bludgeoning me) is disconcerting, to say the least.
This woman is one of the few people I don’t want to fear me. “You don’t need to be afraid. I’ll never hurt you, Holly.”
She stares at me blankly for a while. I watch as she picks up a glass of wine from the bench, swallowing half the contents in one go. “I'm sure that’s what all the crazy axe murderers say right before they kill their prey.”
“I can assure you: I am no crazy axe murderer. Though you may, in fact, be my prey of a different kind.”
“What kind of prey?” she prompts.
“The kind I want to keep and make mine.” Holly’s eyes widen in shock, her mouth gapes, and all I can think of is sliding my cock between those plump lips of hers. The last thing I need is a fucking hard-on while I’m trying to convince her I’m not some kind of weirdo. “So, ah, do you have plates, or do you just wanna eat from the cartons?” I ask as I pull the food from the bag. It looks like she’s ordered enough to feed the entire complex.
“Um, I have plates, but I was planning on eating straight from the cartons, so I didn’t have to wash dishes. Not sure if you noticed, but the kitchen is in shambles at the moment.” She starts picking up empty boxes and stacking them in neater piles on the opposite side of the bench.
“I didn’t notice. Okay, let’s go sit and eat.” I take all five cartons, the chopsticks, and a handful of napkins over to the empty living room and sit down cross-legged on the floor. Holly watches me from the kitchen making no move to come join my makeshift picnic. “Come and sit. You must be starving.”
“What makes you think I’m starving?” she asks as she lowers herself down in front of me.
“The fact that you ordered enough food to feed a small country?” I shrug.
“I just couldn’t make up my mind.” She peeks into the open containers and picks up a box of honey chicken and rice. “You know, it’s bloody rude to invite yourself over for dinner and eat my food.”
“I invitedyouto dinner, andyoustood me up.”
