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Embarrassed, I turned away as my face flushed, only to find myself meeting James’ fascinated eyes. “Peter wanted to try it.”
“And how do you feel about it now?”
I twisted my lips, butterflies returning. This conversation was so intimate, so embarrassing to be having with utter strangers. “I don’t know? I don’t know what I want right now because I dumped his ass less than four hours ago.”
Ibrahim’s dark chuckle turned my attention back to him. He tugged on my hand until it was clear he wanted me to move. I stood, and he pushed his chair out from the small table, exerting a steady pull on my hand until I was standing between his legs. He wrapped his arm around my hip and positioned me on his thigh.
I closed my eyes, holding my entire body stiffly, fighting the urge to scoot close and relax against him. He traced his fingers up my spine, then wrapped them around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. Ibrahim slid two fingers under my chin and tilted my face up until our lips were mere inches apart.
“The first item on your list is sex with a stranger.” I'd put that on solely to please Peter, who thought the idea of sending me into a bar to hook up with some random guy while he watched was hot. All of a sudden, staring into Ibrahim’s eyes, I could see the appeal.
“Yes,” I breathed, my eyes wide as my breath turned uneven and my heart raced.
“How do you feel about it now?”
Hell no, I wasn’t going to confess that the image flashing before my eyes was him, naked, driving into me as I screamed with pleasure.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
Ibrahim lowered his face until his mouth almost brushed against mine, so close I couldn’t even lick my suddenly dry lips. He waited for me to decide, his fingers under my chin, holding my face in place but not pressuring me to do anything I didn’t want to do.
Four hours ago, I’d walked into Peter’s house, determined to pretend I was the sex goddess he wanted. Just because I’d turned around and walked right back out again didn’t mean I had to abandon the whole sex goddess thing, right? I was in an airport a thousand miles from anyone I knew, or ever would know.
I made my decision and tilted my face up. When our lips collided, I felt his lift into a smile. When he traced his tongue against the seam of my mouth, I parted my lips, allowing him inside. And when his hand moved from my chin to tangle in the back of my hair, I moaned, the involuntary sound escaping me as I lost myself in the sensation of his lips slanting over mine.
He hummed his approval as one hand slid down to wrap around my hip, and the other tilted my head back so he could deepen the kiss. Need pulsed at the apex of my thighs, and I shifted in his lap. The sensation brought me back to reality. What was I doing?
When I stiffened, he let me pull away, but didn’t release me from his lap, or try to hide the hard evidence of his attraction to me. Eyes dark with need, he ran his thumb over my lips. “How do you feel about it now?”
I leaned my forehead into his, closing my eyes. To hell with it. “Leaning toward seriously pursuing that list.”
Chapter Two
Piper
BENEDICT CLEARED HIS throat, gesturing to the sandwich and water I’d left to languish on the table while indulging myself with Ibrahim. Because that’s what it was—an indulgence. These men, Ibrahim’s drugging kisses, basking in the heat of their desire? All were a much-needed drink of cool, refreshing water after the long desert of Peter’s lack of affection.
It wasn’t just the six months since he’d moved to Atlanta. It was the entire two years we’d been dating. Peter wasn’t affectionate, and he certainly didn’t express his desire for me in any way outside of the bedroom. For a moment, I wondered how long he’d been cheating on me, then I brushed the thought away. It didn’t matter, and it wouldn’t do me any good to ruminate on it.
Feeling more like myself than I had since I walked in on Peter, much less the past two years, I slid back into my chair. Benedict cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting. For what? Oh.
I took a big bite of the sandwich, wincing with embarrassment as mayonnaise dripped onto my chest. Three sets of eyes followed my movement as I dabbed it with a napkin. Was this ridiculous? Yes. Was it incredibly affirming after everything that happened this morning? Also, yes.
“Are you gentlemen going to order too? I appreciate the gesture, but it’s sort of awkward eating alone as you watch me.”
Benedict looked me up and down, his eyebrows raised high. “Thirty minutes ago, you were hell-bent on getting drunk at an airport bar after a bad breakup. And you think eating alone is awkward?”
I flushed. James elbowed Benedict. “What my colleague means to say is, yes, of course, we’re going to order food.”
“Colleagues?” I asked. “How do you all know each other?”
James flashed that brilliant, bright smile again. “We work together. Sort of. Real estate, import/export.”
Benedict’s forehead pinched, as if he didn’t want James to share this information. I noted the pained expression on his face and didn’t pry further.
Ibrahim jumped in to fill the awkward pause. “So what do you do?”
I laughed. “Way to be a stereotype.” Transplants to DC famously cared more about what people did than what they liked, who they were inside. “I’m an attorney. I do corporate tax law.”
