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His sexy smile reaches untouched parts of me. “I’m not going anywhere.” With that, he takes charge, his hand coming to my waist and sliding around to the small of my back so he can guide me to the couch.
My pulse picks up from his touch faster than any man has ever caused it to. We might be in a crowd of people, but I’m only aware of him. And I know that’s wrong since neither of us are single, but I feel all of it so strongly that I’m helpless but to just go with it.
This might be one of the biggest surprises of tonight to me.
I am not a spontaneous person. I’m a planner and I stick to my plans. I don’t cause waves with my boyfriend; I don’t leave balls early; I don’t go to parties I wasn’t invited to; I don’t speak so honestly with someone I just met. And Ineverjust go with a feeling. Tonight, I think I want to let loose.
The couch we find is barely big enough for both of us. It’s a cozy fit I’m good with. I get the impression Bradford is too.
While I’m settling in next to him, I momentarily think about the partners we left behind at the ball. It’s a fleeting thought, though, because Bradford wipes it away when he leans in close to ask, “How do you breathe in that dress?”
If I thought I was aware of him a moment ago, I knew nothing. Now, I’mveryaware of him.
His voice that's like silk.
His divinely masculine cologne.
His proximity.
His suit jacket brushing my bare shoulder.
Our eyes lock and the connection we share is undeniable.
I smooth my dress while trying to get a handle on the thrill running through my body. My voice is a little breathy when I answer him. “That is a good question. One I often ask myself.”
His brows pull together. “You always wear clothes you can’t breathe in?”
If only he knew.
Normally, I wouldn’t ever get into a conversation like this with a guy, but there’s something about Bradford that makes me feel okay with being vulnerable. He’s twenty-four but seems older than his years. Wiser. More thoughtful than any guy his age I’ve met.
“Clothes, shoes, makeup. You name it, I feel strangled by it.”
“It’s your life, Kristen. Fuck whattheytell you to wear.”
My heart beats faster at his use of my name. “You know my name?”
“Of course I do. Every guy in New York knows your name.”
I blink.What? I want to challenge him on that, but I quickly move on because really, all I care about is thatheknows it. “Okay, so imagine you arrived at this party and looked around and saw me wearing loungewear. And very little makeup. Would you have come over and started a conversation with me?”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely.”
“I call bullshit.”
“That’s because you don’t know me yet. If you did, you’d know that I would have wanted to get to know you because you were doing your own thing, not following a crowd. And just so you’re aware, you don’t need an ounce of makeup to catch a man’s attention.”
Warmth spreads across my face and neck. It’s not often that a man causes me to blush. Compliments about my looks don’t usually affect me like this. However, there’s far more than a compliment being exchanged right now. Bradford isn’t just saying words to me; he’s telling me in so many silent ways that he’s attracted to me. And my blush only highlights to me that I’ve never been as attracted to a man as I am to him.
“I see that the Bradford Black charm I’ve heard about is a real thing.”
His eyes light up when I reveal that I also know his name. “I hope my reputation doesn’t precede me.”
“Do you want me to lie and tell you it doesn’t?” He has a reputation for going through women. Not in a player type way, but rather in ahe’s a great guy but never stays for longkind of way. From what I know, his current relationship is the longest he’s ever had.
“I always prefer the truth.”
“Let’s just say that you’ve broken hearts you haven’t even met yet.”
