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Pulling away, I face the steering wheel and crank the key in the ignition. "Tell me where to go for this new dress you need."
Peripherally, I see her glance down at my groin and my cock that's already thickening.
She almost smirks as she relaxes into her seat and lets her knees fall open. "You're paying. The choice is yours."
I give her a wolfish smile. "The most expensive shop in town, then."
Chapter Eighteen
Dinner at Everest with Erica… How can I describe it? The best date ever can't apply since we are not romantically involved. Why, then, did I insist on taking her to a posh restaurant? I've given up worrying about that—for the moment. For one night, I'm letting myself enjoy spending time with her and sharing a gourmet meal with the only woman who has ever made me feel lust and tenderness in equal measure.
Now, we're standing on her front porch having just returned from our date that wasn't a date. Erica wears a designer dress fashioned from emerald silk that clings to her body but leaves just enough room for the fabric to move with her instead of plastering to her skin. Her already beautiful body looks even more enticing in that frock. The neckline plunges between her breasts, giving me a tantalizing view of those bonnie tits. But it's the slit in the dress's skirt that makes my mouth water, the way it extends halfway up her thigh.
The lass belongs in expensive clothes. Though she'd been uncomfortable with the idea of me buying a designer dress for her, once she'd recovered from the shock, she seemed to enjoy trying on different frocks and stepping out of the fitting room to show me every single dress.
Erica leans back against the door to her house, inhaling deeply, her lips curving into a relaxed smile. The word beautiful can't adequately describe her when she smiles that way, like she hasn't a care in the world.
I know she does have cares—and worries, and fears. I've witnessed the sudden shifts in her mood, but as much as I want to know everything about her, I can't do it. Giving her the wrong idea about us will only lead to heartache.
She sweeps her gaze up and down my body, and her smile warms with desire.
Aye, she likes the suit I'm wearing. I know this because she told me so when I'd picked her up for our date that's not a date. Erica had told me, "You look soooo hot in a spiffy grey suit. Makes me want to fondle and lick you everywhere." Oh aye, her statement had made me as randy as a teenage virgin, but I marshaled all my willpower to keep myself from taking her right there in her living room, or on the porch, or in the car, or on the table where we shared a meal.
We didn't have a private table, but I still would've loved to shag her right there in full view of everyone and with a stunning view of Chicago through the picture window beside us. Getting arrested would've been worth it. Besides, my brother Rory is a lawyer.
My focus returns to the present when Erica speaks.
"Dinner was amazing," she says.
Aye, it had been. We shared a bottle of champagne, but Erica daintily sipped it instead of letting herself fully enjoy it. I'd told her to "indulge yourself,mo leannan," but she still held back. I held back too, but only from thinking about why I kept calling her my sweetheart. It was a pet name, nothing more.
I slant toward Erica to brace one hand on the door frame beside her, then duck my head near hers. "You are so bloody beautiful."
"The dress makes the woman," she says, glancing down at her feet.
"You've got it the wrong way round," I tell her while coiling a lock of her hair around my finger. I brush the lock's tip across her lips. "You make the dress,gràidh."
Releasing that lock of hair, I slip a finger under the slender strap of her frock, whisking it up and down. My breaths come faster and shallower, as if the slightest touch of her skin on mine excites me more than anything ever has before. It's true. She does excite me like no other woman could. Not even drinking an entire bottle of Talisker could intoxicate me the way Erica does.
I glide my finger up and down her skin. "I'm positive you'd make a paper sack look seductive."
She shivers the slightest bit, and her breath hitches.
I move my finger down to the neckline of her dress, skimming it along the slope of one breast. She follows the movements of my finger with her eyes while I dip it into the valley between her breasts. With a long, sighing groan, I lift my hand to catch her chin with it, encouraging her to meet my gaze. Rubbing my lips over hers, I dart my tongue out to taste her skin. Another, deeper groan rumbles out of me.
Bod an Donais, every inch of her body tastes as good as sweet cream and honey.
Erica yawns, then grimaces and clutches her hands over her belly. "Sorry."
"Don't be." I cradle her cheek in my palm, resting my forehead on hers. "We've had a long day—wonderful, but long—and you're jeeked." I step back and prop my shoulder against the door frame, then sweep a hand over my eyes. "I am too."
She smiles. "Jeeked means exhausted, I'm guessing."
"Aye." I reach out to caress her cheek, and without thinking about it, I smile too. Every day I do more and more things that suggest I have tender feelings for her, but that will never happen. Even if I wanted a relationship with Erica, I'm far too damaged for it to work out. I'd cock it up, and she would wind up hating me.
Erica deserves someone who appreciates her, a man who can give her everything she deserves. That man is not me.
She digs her keys out of the emerald clutch I'd insisted on buying for her since it matches her dress. The little purse is studded with real emeralds. Shoving the key in the lock, she hesitates and peers over her shoulder at me. "Wanna come in?"
