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Tilting his head, he stares into my eyes, a twitch in his jaw the only sign of discomfort from my suggestion.
He rolls his hand out toward me. “Ladies first.”
"Right. Okay," I say, caught off guard at his willingness to go along with my idea. I hadn't expected him to want to play along. “I know. How old are you?”
“Thirty-two,” he answers without hesitation. “And you?”
I feign offense and place my hand over my heart with a gasp. “Don’t you know you should never ask a woman her age?”
"I'm all for equal rights, quid pro quo." He crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine—a silent challenge, one I'm damn determined to win.
“Thirty-one.”
His lips curve up into a smirk. “I could’ve sworn you were twenty-eight.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”.
“A man can dream, kitten.” If ever there was a man who could embody dirty promises with one look, it would be him.
“Okay then. Have you always lived in Seattle?” I ask, trying to distract myself from what I really want to do, which is jump into his lap.
“I’m originally from Connecticut. Then I went to college in New York but I’d always loved Seattle, so I moved there three years ago.”
I can’t stop myself from laughing, causing Barrett’s brows to knot together. “That’s funny?”
“Only because it’s the most you’ve said about yourself since we met. And that is saying a lot.”
“I should work on that,” he says with a wry smile.
“You should.”
“There are other ways you could make me talk.” It’s my turn to smirk now as images of everything I could do to him flash before my eyes.
“That look . . . right there . . . I bet you’re thinking of how you could do it.”
I shoot him a saccharine-sweet lie of an innocent smile. "Oh, I definitely know.”
"Touché," he conceded quietly. The way he's looking at me and making me feel is intoxicating.
For so long, I've had no free time to even contemplate dating. The business always has and will come first, my personal life second. Even when I've tried meeting men, they're often intimidated by my job. Barrett seems different though. I may not know everything about the man—not even close I suspect—but there's something between us that cannot be denied. The choice I have now is whether to jump in head first or to hold back and at least try to show some restraint.
“What are your thoughts on dessert?” His eyes grow hooded and I lament the distance between us at that moment.
“I’m wondering if you’re talking about the last course of our meal or something else, and if it’s the latter, the logical part of my brain is telling me I still don’t know anything about you.”
“Do you need to know anything more right now? Sometimes a bit of mystery can be sexy,” he replies smoothly.
My mouth goes dry as my tongue instinctively darts out to run over my bottom lip. “And what if I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl?”
“From what I know about you already, kitten. One night with you could never be enough.” The deep rasp in his voice reaches inside of me, my eyes riveted as he rubs his chin and studies me right back. His gaze travels over my face leaving a singed path in its wake as he fixates on my mouth. “How about this though? You give me the chance to show you the kind of man I am when you're naked in my bed and screaming my name.”
"Barrett . . ." I reply breathlessly, the effect he's having on me more than obvious.
“That's a promise, Alyssa,” he growls. “Not a hope, not a plan—it’s a foregone conclusion.” His chair scrapes along the floor as he pushes back from the table. “And just the fact you are sitting across from me looking like the most beautiful woman in the world with that face and that fucking irresistible body that I can't wait to touch tells me you know this to be true. Because why else would a strong, confident, self-assured, and in no way lacking woman like yourself share one phone call with me, tell me I make her wet, then accept my dinner invitation, all without knowing precisely what we can do to each other?”
With my crossed legs clenched tight and my fingers gripping the table to anchor me, all I can do is slowly close my eyes and focus on my labored breathing.
When I reopen them again, Barrett is standing by my side towering over me. Leaning down, he places an index finger under my chin and lifts it gently, bringing my stare up to his and rendering me speechless with the need I see there. The fire is well and truly lit and blazing.
