Seduce (Beautiful Rose 0.50)

“You, too. I’ve heard much about you,” she laughed, flashing me her smile. I smiled back, her mood infectious.

“So, tell me about yourself?” I said, pouring her a glass of wine. She told me she was twenty-two, studying physiotherapy, and she loved to have fun. The studying surprised me. I’d assumed she would be majoring in something easier to allow her more time to party. Maybe there were brains behind this beauty somewhere.

“I love going out and dancing. I’m always on the go,” she laughed. “Daddy, he worries, you know? I think that’s why you got roped into being my companion. To keep me out of trouble,” she joked in her strong Italian accent, laughing again.

“I bet you break hearts,” I murmured. She blushed, but not a shy blush. It was a calculated one that read ‘I know how to break a man down into a blubbering mess’. The same way I could talk any woman into my bed.

Guilt washed over me as I thought about Belle, who had no idea I was out with this Italian beauty. I had gone over and over whether or not to tell her and in the end, I decided no. Telling her would worry her and she didn’t need that so close to her exams. I only hoped not telling her didn’t make it seem like I was trying to hide something. As I took another look at this Italian man-eater, I had a pretty solid feeling that I was going to regret my decision.

Right now, Belle thought I was at a work dinner, which technically I was. Something told me she wouldn’t be happy learning my dinner companion was female, Italian, and stunningly sexy.

“So, tell me about you, Jack. You work for your father, yes?” she asked, reaching for her wine. Suddenly she giggled. “My eyes are up here, cheeky boy.”

“What—” I stopped, horrified as I realized my eyes had been focused on her breasts. I felt cheated, considering the whole time I was apparently staring at them I’d been thinking about Belle. If I was going to be caught staring, at least let me reap the benefits!

“Yes, I work for my father,” I answered stiffly. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my father and work. I downed my wine and poured another.

“Ah, a daddy’s boy,” she laughed as I handed her a menu. This was going to be a long night. Her laugh was already grating on my nerves like fingernails running down a chalkboard. I flagged the waiter and ordered a bottle of their most expensive scotch. Since Daddy was paying, I planned to live it up. The waiter carried over the bottle and two glasses.

“Lisbeth?” I asked, motioning to the waiter. She nodded. A woman who liked her scotch. Impressive. “To a memorable night,” I said, holding up my glass. She giggled and took a sip.

“What do you feel like?” I asked, scanning the menu. I had already decided on lobster.

“Hmm. I think I like the fish,” she said, shutting her menu with a giggle. “And after we eat, you will take me dancing?” she said, her eyes wide. I nodded, my father’s words echoing in my head. I knew just the place.

We chatted through dinner. The whole time I felt like I was on autopilot. Laughing at the right moments, smiling, and nodding. This girl loved to talk, and mainly about herself. The only time I was even remotely interested in what she had to say was when she spoke about her studies. She was in her final year of her degree, and she planned to travel to Paris to model.

She barely ate her fish, only picking at the plate, insisting that she was full. I savored my lobster, the rich, buttery sauce creating an orgasm in my mouth. By the end of the meal we’d consumed the bottle of scotch and two bottles of wine. By this stage I was aware of myself, but not aware enough to control my actions. Lisbeth seemed to be holding her drink pretty well, still insisting we go dancing.

Outside the restaurant, I hailed a cab and directed us to Backslash, one of the top nightspots in London. Anywhere I might run into Luke was out of the question because I didn’t want to deal with him asking me why I was out with another woman. Backslash was the only place where I knew we were sure to be photographed and that was a key part of my plan.

We were ushered right in, past the line that stretched around the corner. I was on the list of every club in the country. A hostess led us directly to the VIP area, where we were seated at a booth overlooking the dance floor.

The place was full of people with money to burn, and women that wanted to hook up. That’s what this club was known for: you came here to pick up and to score. Right away, Lisbeth wanted to dance. I ordered a scotch, throwing it back before leading her out onto the dance floor.

What quickly became clear to Lisbeth was that I don’t dance. Ever. The most I will do is stand there and sway slightly with my hands shoved in my pockets. She danced around me, grinding herself against me, trying to get me to interact with her. Instead, I stood there and watched her.

“You don’t like to dance?” Lisbeth laughed. She grabbed hold of my hands and placed them on her hips as she swayed to the music. She moved closer to me, so that with every movement her body rubbed against mine.

“I try to avoid dancing whenever possible,” I said dryly.

“Yes, I see why,” she giggled. I laughed in spite of myself and made a face. “Come,” she took me by the hand and led me back to the table. “Sit down,” she said.

I watched her disappear over to the bar. I took the moment to check my phone. The message from Belle made my heart plummet with guilt. I clicked on open.

I hope your work dinner is not too boring. I miss you. Love B xx

My stomach tied into knots as I read the words over and over. What the hell I was doing? Lisbeth reappeared with a bottle of scotch and two shot glasses. I raised my eyebrows as she set a glass in front of me and filled it.

“Drink,” she demanded. “You need to relax. You’re too stressed!” she said, reaching over to rub my neck. I didn’t pull away; instead, I let her hands move over my shoulders and my neck. She poured a glass for herself, downing it quickly before pouring a second for herself and handing me the bottle.

I shook my head and took a mouthful straight from the bottle. Lisbeth danced at our booth in front of me, doing her best to get my attention. I looked away, trying to ignore how her breasts jiggled as she moved, or the way the hem of her dress rose slightly when she moved her legs. She rubbed herself against my crotch, the movement creating arousal.

“This is so much fun!” she laughed. “You’d be surprised how much trouble I get into at home. You would think I was sixteen, not twenty-two. I feel like here I can break free and be myself.”

“To being ourselves,” I said, handing her another shot. She could barely stand by now, and just as I’d hoped, alcohol made her very sexual. She swayed to the music, holding onto my hand, her eyes closed, a vague smile on her face.

“You like me, Jack?” she purred. Her top came off as she pressed my hand against her breast. As soon as I saw the flash of the camera I knew I had what I needed. I moved my hand away, hiding my smile.