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“Hello, Mr. Bentley.”
He leans into my ear. “I told you once before, it’s only Mr. Bentley when I’m inside you.”
My insides jolt at his dirty words.
Mr. Dark and Dangerous is here.
I gulp. “Would you like a drink?”
He smirks, his hand resting on my shoulder as he nods to the bartender and orders a scotch neat and another martini for me.
He glances down at my dress. “You look beautiful.”
I kept it light, with my bikini on and a pink halter dress over the top and sandals.
I smile at him. “I’m glad you came.”
He watches me as he takes a sip of his whiskey. “How could I not with a proposition like that?”
“Are you shocked?”
He smirks. “Takes a lot more than that to shock me, sweetheart, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised. I did try to warn you that you weren’t ready for me, but you played with fire.”
I bite my lip.
He’s so sexual; everything he says and does has my body aching for his touch.
I take a sip of my martini as he continues watching me, his face giving nothing away.
I take in his attire; a clean white shirt rolled up at the elbows, with dark blue dress pants and a belt. He can’t dress casually to save himself.
When my eyes meet his again, he smirks. “Like what you see?”
I nod.
“Good, but I want to feed you first.”
First?
I swallow hard again but follow his lead as we move over from the bar to a table by the pool. It’s more casual here than the restaurant last night; it’s more my style. I don’t really like stuffy places and having to dress up in a ballgown to have dinner. Wearing floaty things is more my scene, though I think Lukas didn’t seem to mind my wrap dress.
He’s tentative through dinner, and we chat about everything. The conversation is never strained or forced, and it flows naturally.
I meant what I said earlier; when he talks, it’s like he is genuinely interested in me and what I have to say. He watches me and gives me little touches here and there that have butterflies swirling in my stomach.
He tells me about his work and the new projects he’s working on and about the reason he’s here: he’s waiting on assaultcharges to be dropped. I can’t imagine him getting into a fist fight, but there’s something terribly masculine about that.
It’s safe to say, I’m a little love drunk on Mr. B right now.
The thing with him is, he takes his time.
If we end up in bed tonight, it’s not like he’s letting it affect him one little bit. He’s a smooth customer, and I know he’s been around the block a time or two, and it shows.
He’s in absolutely no hurry to go anywhere, and I kind of dig that. His thumb very lightly skims the sensitive flesh on my thigh as he draws small circles while talking to me.
It sets my insides, and my pussy, on fire.
Every little touch that he gives me, I’ll gladly take and then some.
