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“What makes you think you know me so well after only seeing each other a few times?”
“I don’t know what it is about you, but there’s something familiar. Have we met before?”
This hits way too close to home. I don’t want him to know we were childhood friends, and I really don’t want him to know about the limo sex. Not yet, maybe not ever. It’s too humiliating.
“No. I’d certainly remember meeting you, Tyler,” I say with what I hope is a saucy laugh.
“Still, I don’t know...” As he trails off, he finally breaks eye contact. Then he smiles. “Let’s dance.” The way he says the words, he might as well be telling me to drop my pants and let him take me right here. Seduction burns in every fiber of Tyler’s being. He pulls me from my chair and leads me to the intimate dance floor.
Tyler doesn’t pause as he pulls me close, making me feel like it’s only the two of us the moment his arms wind behind my back. The instant sizzle between us should frighten me enough to pull away, but my hands drift upward until they rest on the back of his neck. His breath fans against my ear as he pulls me a little closer.
His arms tighten, one shifting lower as he presses forward, allowing me to feel his hardness against my midsection. He tucks my head against him as he leans down and runs his lips against the edge of my ear, his hot breath sending a shudder rippling through me. His scent, his breath, and his defined muscles surround me, pressing into me, entrapping me while the rest of the world falls away.
When I finally get the strength to draw back, I look straight into Tyler’s eyes. Passion. Excitement. Hunger. So much hunger. I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly our lips are clasped together and I feel like a person lost in the desert getting my first sip of water in days.
My fingers tighten behind his neck as I greedily sip from his lips, submerging myself in the passion that flows so easily and powerfully between us. I forget he’s the enemy, forget I have an agenda. I forget everything except the way he makes me feel. When he breaks away, I whimper, and the passion in his gaze leaps higher.
“Let me take you home,” he says, his voice pure silk. It takes a moment for the words to make their mark inside my muddled brain, but when they do, I tense.
“I... um... not tonight,” I say and pull from him. I’m almost surprised when he releases me. We walk back to the table, but I can’t make myself sit. I need to rebuild the walls around my heart.
“It’s been a wonderful night, Tyler, but I’m getting a headache. I think it best if I go home a little early.”
His eyes narrow for a brief moment, but he recovers quickly. Turning from me without a word, he signals for the waiter, pays the check, then escorts me from the restaurant. The cool night air feels good on my overheated skin. I’ll regroup, figure out my next move, and get this entire plan of mine — which doesn’t seem quite so great anymore — out of the way.
“I’ll take you home,” he says, and it isn’t a question.
“I can get home fine,” I reply.
“I always make sure my date get home safely, Olivia. I take you home or this thing between us is done.” His words aren’t harsh, just matter-of-fact. I want to walk away, to tell him to go to hell. But if I do that, I’ll never have my victory.
“Fine. You can take me home,” I say in a taut voice.
He walks me to his car and opens my door. I give him my address, then sit back and fume. This isn’t going well — not well at all. I thought I was being so smart. I forgot revenge is a dish best served cold, and I’m still far too hot. I need to do something to salvage this situation, but how?
We pull up to my apartment complex, hardly the best place in the city, but far from the worst. He parks and comes around to the passenger side. I allow him to open my door, help me from the low-slung sports car, and walk me to my door.
I wheel around before I insert my key in the lock. “Thank you for dinner. The place was so much better than I expected. I’ve wanted to go there for quite some time.”
“Thank you for accompanying me, Olivia. I had a wonderful evening.”
“Really?”
“Didn’t you enjoy yourself?” he asks, taking a step closer.
“Yes, but then, you know, the headache,” I say with a nervous giggle.
“Do I make you uncomfortable, Olivia?” he asks before lifting a hand and running his fingers through my hair.
“No... no.” Am I stuttering? What an utter disaster. Just kill me now and get it over with.
“I think I do. I think I scare the hell out of you.” He moves the last few inches forward.
“I think you’re awfully full of yourself,” I tell him.
He leans down and speaks against the corner of my mouth. “I’mverysure of myself.”
I could push him away, tell him the night’s over, but that isn’t what a seductress does. A woman who wants a man to pant over her the rest of the night grabs him and initiates the kiss. So that’s exactly what I do. I take control of his mouth, kissing him with everything I have.
