AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t go doing anything rash.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. One naughty night of doing whatever I want doesn’t seem like enough to bring such dire consequences.” At this point, I’m not sure if he means the abs or me, but I’m pretty sure there’s no air in the room anymore.
I finish my flute, and he’s filling it before I can even object. Oh well. More for me.
“Let me take that,” he says it as he grabs my plate. Then he takes it to the trolley. “Do you want some more? There’s fruit and whipped cream, if you want something sweet.”
I gulp. “Berries with whipped cream, if they have them.”
“Coming right up.”
“Why are you waiting on me?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d want to leave the bed in that sheer sheet.”
I look down. Yup. He’s definitely seen the outline of, well, everything. Oh well. More champagne will make this less embarrassing. I hope.
When he sits next to me, he’s delivered a plate full of the biggest, reddest strawberries I’ve ever seen and a bowl of fresh whipped cream. I’m not even hungry anymore, but my mouth waters at the sight. Swiping a berry through the cream, I tell him, “It’s thoughtful of you to get my plates for me, Anderson.”
“I’m trying something new.”
“No, you’re not. See, I don’t think you were as much of an asshole as I would have liked you to be.”
“You wanted me to be an asshole?”
I shrug, and can’t help but notice that when I do, his eyes focus on my chest. Bully or not, he likes some parts of me. “If you were just a pure asshole, then I could hate you. But you’re a complicated asshole, and that makes everything else complicated, too.”
“You’re seeing what you think you should see. I’m a purebred, grade A asshole, June.”
“Do you want me to bring up Kalen again?”
He looks away and grabs a berry for himself. After dipping it into the whipped cream and taking a bite, his eyes roll back. “My god, that’s delicious.”
I giggle. “A tasty way to change the topic?”
“Only if you let it stay changed.”
“I suppose I can do that for you. But you’ll have to do something for me.”
He swallows, then looks me over. When his eyes drag over my chest, my nipples harden from the attention. Stupid body. Finally, he meets my gaze. “Name it.”
“Unbutton the next button on your shirt. It’s practically strangling me from here.”
He laughs and unbuttons it. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Stud, by the way.”
I blink at him, then take another swig of champagne. “Excuse me?”
“On a tuxedo shirt, the buttons are called studs. Not buttons.”
“Oh. The buttons. Right.”
He smirks, and my libido stirs. Seriously, body, we hate this guy. Stop that. But it might make things easier if I give in to what my body wants. If I just go with the flow. This isn’t some elaborate prank—I’m almost completely sure of that. We’ve been in here for over an hour—nearly two now—and nothing’s happened.
Which is also a problem.
