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On top of her usual beauty and charisma, she was really showing off tonight. She wore a long, slinky black dress with a slit up the left side, which showed off her bare, smooth leg up to the thigh. Instead of clunky platforms, her dainty feet were encased in strappy, shiny gold heels with a clasp around the ankles. Her dress had the barest of spaghetti straps and an asymmetrical neckline. It cut down in a sharp vee and the satiny material slightly gathered at her cleavage, making her breasts look even more irresistible. A simple, delicate gold chain circled her neck and nestled over her collarbone.
Giselle’s hair, which was usually left to its wild devices, was elegantly smoothed down into a sleek, shimmery sweep over one shoulder. The fragile-looking hairs around her face curled against her pale skin, giving her a faint Betty Boop appeal. She normally went without makeup, except for some messy black eyeliner and a smudge of Chapstick. But tonight, she was positively glowing. Instead of disguising her looks, the makeup only enhanced her natural beauty. Her high cheekbones gleamed with highlighter. Her thick lashes were dramatic and dark, her eyeliner pulled to sharp little points at the outer and inner corners for a foxy look. Even her lips were extra luscious with a coat of matte scarlet lipstick.
When she smiled, Asher felt like his chair must be levitating inches off the ground.
He reminded himself inwardly that she was off-limits, no matter how tempting she looked in that elegant dress. This was a work meeting. They were colleagues.
This. Was Not. A Date.
Asher jumped up to allow her into the booth and she slipped behind him, their bodies only barely brushing against one another for a few seconds. It was enough to make Asher’s pulse quicken and the heat rise in his face. He was grateful that the dim, amber-toned lighting could obscure his blushing. He was a grown man. He wasn’t shy. There was very little in this world that could make him blush, and yet...
“Wow, this place is beautiful,” Giselle said, peering around with wide, lovely eyes.
“You look beautiful,” Asher blurted out.
Giselle turned her gaze on him and it struck him like a jolt of electricity to the heart. Those luminous eyes looked like the deepest, sweetest honey in the dim lighting. Asher was a writer. Words were his bread and butter. And yet, when she looked at him that way, with her dazzling body so close to his, he was speechless. He just stared back at her, entranced.
Luckily, Blaze leapt in.
“That dress is out of this world,” he remarked, giving her a dramatic look up and down.
“Well, thanks. It’s not my usual aesthetic, but it’s fun to play dress-up sometimes,” Giselle said, a little sheepishly. Her alluring eyes glanced away at the menu on the table. Asher noticed that, even through the sheen of makeup, she was blushing, too.
Throughout the restaurant, people were alternately staring at and whispering about Giselle. She was tucked away in this corner booth, but there was no hiding her. No matter how many actresses, models, and other flavors of starlet were present that night, he knew without a shred of doubt that Giselle was the most striking one.
Asher, who was known for his studious nature and his laser-sharp focus, was having a hard time remembering the purpose of this evening meeting. From the second Giselle arrived, every cell in his body determined that she was, in fact, the purpose. He could hardly hear the words she said because he was so captivated by the shapes her lips formed with each syllable. Blaze was a blur across the table, his voice growly and garbled to Asher’s ears. If he didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought there was something in his drink. He felt so out of sorts, like the mere presence of Giselle was sending his system into overdrive.
He realized he had taken maybe one or two sips of his wine so far. Giselle was simply that intoxicating to be around. And so close, too.
“So yesterday was actually effective,” she was saying to Blaze.
“You mean you got some actual inspiration out of our beach excursion?” he asked.
“I hopped in the shower as soon as I got home, because of the saltwater, obviously. I love the beach, but I don’t love feeling all crunchy afterward. But then I just stood there in the hot water, furiously typing bits of lyrics into my phone so I wouldn’t forget them. You know how you just get in the zone sometimes?” she rambled excitedly.
When she flipped her hair back over her shoulder, Asher caught a soft whiff of her perfume, and it made him dizzy with desire. He longed to scoot closer, pull her to him and breathe in her scent, feel her heat, taste those luscious lips…
“Asher, what about you?” Giselle asked suddenly.
He blinked rapidly, trying to find his way back to reality.
“Huh? Me?” he mumbled.
“Yeah, did you get any cool inspiration from watching me fail to surf?” she giggled.
Asher smiled, feeling warm inside at the sound of her laughter. “You weren’t failing. You were just learning. Everybody falls a lot when they start out,” he assured her.
“Uh-huh. I bet you tell all your students that, Professor,” she teased in a smoky voice.
Something about the way she said professor made his cock stir. Asher was glad to be sitting down with a table between them. He had to control himself.
“No, no. You could totally learn how to surf if you put your mind to it. And to answer your original question: yes, I found our beach day very inspiring,” Asher answered coolly.
“Been doodling ideas in your notebook?” she teased. Her hand reached out to gently touch his arm. His skin tingled where her fingertips landed, even once she pulled back.
Again, he was so dazed with desire, he struggled to find words. She was so goddamn distracting. The pull he felt toward her was so intense. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it professional. This girl had entirely too much sway over him. Asher decided that, sooner or later, he was going to have to reassert his position.
If she was in the mood to play, Asher had to join the game, too.
