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“If you only realized how much self-restraint I have been using with you. You are the first person I have wanted to go slow with. Ever. But my desire for you has grown. Angie, I want to fuck you tonight.”
“What?”
“I tried to stay away. I swear I tried. I tried to be noble. I tried to do what is best for you and back off. But not even a five-day business trip to Europe could squelch my desire for you. It just made the flame grow stronger.”
Well, that explains his lack of communication this week.
“Let’s date, Angie,” Graham suggests.
“Huh?”
“My intentions may be unconventional. But,” he says with a pause, “I am a bit traditional, after all."
“Righhhht.”
He smiles, showing all of his teeth. “So, I will buy you dinner and then spread you out on my b—”
“You are seriously crazy.” Traditional? Telling me that he wants to fuck me is not what I call classical romance! But then again, the books I like to read are contemporary with a bit of kink. Word porn with a plot.
“If you seriously think I’m going to let another man beat me to the punch, then you are the crazy one. Every man who has the honor of sharing space with you ends up fantasizing about fucking you senseless.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” I mutter, still trying to make sense of this nonsense.
His breath is warm on my ear. “I can read it all in their come-fuck-me eyes. My eyes do the same thing, for your information.”
I pull back to look at him. “And you are conceited enough to think that the feeling is mutual? Mr. Hoffman, I am sure that there are many other women in the database who are more suitable for your antics. Blonde and redheaded ones who might flaunt their bodies and be more your type. Ones who might lie down easily and allow you to have your way with them. Make out with you in hallways. Ones who will—”
“Enough!” he whisper-yells, still careful to keep his tone low enough for just me to hear, although I’m starting to have my doubts.
His voice startles me from my speech. I take a step back but only am able to move an inch. I fix my eyes onto Graham’s and hold them in place while the words pour from my lips. “I do not trust you.”
“Why not?”
Because every one of my instincts tells me you are hiding something.“You are a player.”
The melody of the next song starts, but I am too wrapped up in the conversation to care how we look to the public.
“I have never given you a reason not to trust me. I thought last weekend would have proven to you that I will never hurt you. That I will take care of your needs before my own. And Angie?”
“Hmm?”
“My list of desires is one long list.”
“Thanks for the rescue. It was nice. I still don’t trust you.”
A pang of jealousy rattles my core. I know Graham has a past with Sophia, and she is actively trying to pursue a present with him. As much as I am attracted to him, I do not have the energy nor the time to compete with a supermodel.
“Follow your heart, Angie. You feel this undeniable chemistry.”
“Hearts are wickedly deceitful.”
His mouth touches my lobe, and then presses into the spot behind my ear, sending rockets of pleasure throughout my body. I arch my back and thrust my chest out. Shit, he’s good. His fingers play with my hips, moving them on his own to the music. “Angela, take a ride with me.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“One night with me and my words that you think are all talk will come to fruition.”
“Graham—”
