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“An interesting read, but few men know how to please a woman, taking the time to learn every nuance, providing intense pleasure.” As he lifted his glass as if in appreciation of my choice in books, a sexy quirk lifted the edges of his full lips.
Heat and a flash of embarrassment drifted across my jaw. My hand involuntarily fluttered to my mouth, and I resisted releasing the moan I felt caught in my throat. “You’re right, which is why women prefer books for their greatest pleasures.”
“A terrible tragedy.”
“Very much so.”
The few seconds of awkward tension gave way to another wave of excitement, my mind whirring from far too many dirty thoughts. I’d been in control of everything in my life for a very long time, including caring for my mother at an early age. I’d purposely shut myself off from feeling any emotions around a man, believing it was for the best.
But attraction was different, completely uncontrollable.
Attraction had a mind of its own, finding a way of derailing your life when you least expected or wanted it. It was electric and breathless, intoxicating, and unstoppable.
Blinking, I pulled myself from the haze with a not so gentle reminder that not only was he a stranger, I’d sworn off men.
Then he had to throw out another temptation.
“Now that we have the initial niceties out of the way, perhaps we could enjoy a meal together.” He didn’t pose a question, rather making a bold statement. My typical response would be to send him away after a single glass of wine but for so many reasons, he intrigued me. Maybe my best friend had been right in chastising me for not indulging in a kinky night of passion.
The thought of having dinner with the gorgeous man pushed a level of desire into my pussy that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I was on vacation after all. Why not enjoy a flirtatious dinner? “Perhaps. However, I usually prefer knowing the name of the person I’ve chosen to share a meal with.”
He studied me as I’d done to him, raking his heated gaze from my long curls to my cheekbones, slowly shifting his eyes to the plunging bodice of the summer dress I’d selected for the evening. If he was curious if I’d feel self-conscious, he was wrong. I hadn’t achieved the goal of becoming vice president of one of the largest, most exclusive real estate development firms in the country by shying away from prying eyes or condescending men.
“I’m curious. Do you enjoy the temptation of mystery?”
I finally laughed, his attempt at flirting unusual. I eased my elbows on the table, accepting his challenge by leaning closer. With our lips so dangerously close, I couldn’t help but imagine what he’d taste like. “Let me guess. We don’t share names or personal information, which adds an air of simplicity as well as filthy mystery to our time spent together.”
“You are a very astute woman.”
“Some would call me a shark.”
“And are you?”
“Perhaps. I don’t take kindly to liars or thieves.”
My comment surprised him. He lifted his eyebrows, a slow smile crossing his face. “An excellent sentiment.”
“So, what do I call you?”
“Why don’t you select a name? That will make the game that much more fun.” He was annoyingly sensual in everything he did, his heated gaze continuing to drive a wave of current into my system. I shouldn’t feel this attracted to him, but he oozed sexuality in every action.
“I didn’t know we were playing a game.”
“Every aspect of life is a game of chess, only one winner allowed.”
“Ah,” I said as I purposely leaned back against my chair, rolling the tip of my finger around the rim of my wineglass. He wasn’t just insufferable and confident. He was determined to come out the winner in everything he did. I’d thoroughly enjoyed destroying men who’d attempted to use power over me. “Unfortunately, the name that comes to mind isn’t polite in mixed company.”
“Oh, come now. At this moment in time, we’re the only two people in this room that matter.”
At least his arrogance gave me a good laugh. “Asshole was the first name that came to mind.”
“Hmmm… And I was thinking of calling you myomorfiá.”
The inflection he used had changed, becoming bottomless in a sweet blanket of velvet. I was momentarily sucked into another thought of passion, almost blinded by his beauty. “What did you call me?”
“My beauty.”
“What language?”
