“I hope you don’t mind, I changed our plans slightly.” His declaration is filled with authority. “We won’t be staying here tonight. I acquired us another room for the evening. Then we will go to my place for the remaining of your stay with me.”
I look at him questioningly. “Oh,” I respond, feeling somewhat disappointed. “It’s a good thing I packed lightly then, isn’t it? Let me grab my bag,” I say. I feel his electric gaze on my ass when I turn to retrieve my belongings from the bed. Once again, I’m thankful for the way this form-fitting dress clings to my ass.
“Your bags will be brought down to my car. We’re having dinner at my restaurant across the street.” Taking the handle of my bag from my hand, he trails his index finger up the length of my arm. I feel chills. Those chills dissipate as quickly as they surfaced, and heat replaces them, combining with the need to be laid bare for this unknown man who screams sex. Great sex. More sex, explicit sex, has me wanting to skip dinner, to stay here where we both can gorge out on each other.
I gasp when he pulls me into his chest, cupping my neck. The pad of his thumb grazes across my lower lip. “In my private dining room. Alone.”
The way he says alone sends a welcoming shiver up my spine. My breast tingle. My pussy aches. “Are you cooking for me too?” I ask, my voice drenched with desire.
“I did,” he answers, pulling the door shut. His hand skims the naked flesh low on my back. We make our way to the elevator in silence. Havoc has webbed its way through my mind on how quickly this route of sexual attraction has taken between us. In the matter of five minutes, I’m ready to let him do anything he wants to me, take me any way he wants, please me anyway he wants.
I sigh when he drops his hand from my back and presses the elevator button. The door opens almost instantly and I reach down to link my hand with his once we enter the elevator. The ride is quick and silent.
The click clack of my matching red Manolo Blahnik shoes echo off the walls of the corridor. I feel beautiful, alive, and adorningly pampered. Which reminds me, I almost forgot. “Thank you for the ankle bracelet. I love it.” I bend my knee slightly so he can see the jewels around the base of my leg.
“You’re welcome,” he hisses almost painfully.
“What?” I say, completely confused.
“Believe me when I tell you this, Lucia. I’ve never seen a pair of legs like yours. For fucks sake, those are long, curved, and painful as hell to look at.”
I swallow.
While this handsome stranger leisurely trails his eyes from the sparkly diamond bracelet wrapped around my ankle, to the top of the side slit on my dress, they become hooded, darker, and dangerously sexy. “Come on before I march us back upstairs, tie you to the bed, and fuck every hole in that sinful body of yours.”
***
“That was incredible,” I moan, my stomach beyond stuffed. Heath and I had entered the back of the restaurant, where he led me straight to a private dining room. The quaint, dimly lit room adjoins his office, separated by glass. It’s stunning with dark wood floors, a solid brick wall on one side, while the other wall has four perfectly square windows aligned down the center. It gives off just enough light to embrace the long rectangular table in the middle.
During dinner, Heath told me how he always loved to cook, travel, and enjoy the company of a beautiful woman. Not once did he break the rules of the contract about asking anything personal about me or my life outside of tonight. Nor did he ask me why I do what I do, which surprised me. Most men ask, they wonder why gifts instead of money. The mere mention of money makes me feel like a whore and that’s not what I am. It is never what I want them to perceive me as. I’m a woman with needs. My needs just happen to be materialistic and sexual. I give them the same answer they give me. I’m not into being committed to anyone and the truth that I love nice things. I love the feel of being taken care of, if only for a night or a weekend.
There’s more to Heath then he’s willing to disclose, which is the way it should be. There’s more to me as well. As I sit here and study his profile, the way he holds his wine glass, the way he slouches somewhat in his chair, it appears he is slightly out of his element. This is normally not the type of thing this man does. He’s dark and mysterious in a sexy way. A seed firmly plants itself in the center of my core. This man is used to being in control just as I am. I don’t like giving up control and yet, here I sit with a stranger who has had my very center throbbing for him to take his control and do anything he wants.
“I would love to see your restaurant,” I tell him. He assured me I would, but not then. He explained that we entered thought the back because his guests would acknowledge him if he walked through the restaurant. He didn’t want that to detain us from our time together. Thanking him for that, I remind myself he deserves a much needed reward.
“I’m glad you loved dinner. The Boursin stuffed chicken is my specialty. It’s a favorite dish here, along with my dessert, of course.”
My god, I cannot possibly eat another bite, although, I was not raised to be rude. Especially after he bought me here, cooked for me, gave me this dress, my bracelet, and the delightful shoes.
“And what’s for dessert?” I ask, taking the last sip of my wine. Even though I was beyond full, I knew we would most definitely work off the food later.
“For me, it’s you,” he says rather brusquely.
“Really?” My brows lift. I shift in my seat so my legs are facing him. He has absolutely no idea that I can play at his game and win. I cross my legs. The slit falls open, exposing bare skin all the way up to my thigh. The longer his gaze remains on my legs, the more sexually interesting I know he finds me. He runs his tongue across his top lip.
“Tell me, Lucia. What did you have in mind for the next two days? Because I assure you, it is nothing compared to what I’m actually going to do to you. Take it off,” he demands. His eyes as dark as the night sky glaring through the windows.
“Take what off? This?” My fingers grasp the side zipper. The only sound in the room is the slow seductive wisp of the zipper going down. I loop my fingers under the strap of the dress on one of my shoulders, letting if fall just enough to expose the top of one my breast. Then slowly I do the same to the other side.
“Let it drop.”
I let go without blinking. My naked breasts exposed to him. My nipples are hard, eagerly waiting for his mouth.
“I do recall you tempting me on the phone with those tits of yours, and what great tits they are.” He bends forward enough to trace around both of my nipples with his index finger. I quiver as my arousal intensifies the more he moves in circles, not once touching my nipples.
“Tell me what you want?” I say seductively.
“You, Lucia. I want you.” I feel it and gasp an excruciating painful delight when he pinches both my nipples. “Fuck,” he growls. Sliding his chair back, he grasp ahold of one of my nipples with his mouth while the one hand palms my breast. I arch my back as far as it will go in the chair, clinging to his shoulders as he takes me deep into his mouth. “Do you want me to fuck these beautiful breasts?” he growls, before moving to give my other one the same attention with his mouth.
“Yes,” I pant.
I whimper when he releases his hold on my breast, but instantly delighted when he lifts me up, the red dress falling into a pool around my feet, leaving me bare to him. I’m left with nothing except my shoes and the beautiful bracelet wrapped around my ankle. Heath lays me down on the table. My chest is heaving and my heart pounding. I watch him bend and pick up my dress, placing it across the back of the chair.
“Don’t move.” He’s out of my sight for a moment before returning with a small bottle. His jacket is off and his shirt halfway undone. “Christ, Lucia.” His southern accent becomes more accentuated the more excited he gets. “You’re fucking beautiful. Feel this?”