“Okay,” she says simply, staring into my eyes.
For a second, we’re locked in this moment, sparks flying and an unspoken connection between us. This girl has me on fire already, and I barely even know her. But I’ve watched her for long enough to see that she intrigues me and that I’m dying to get to know her more intimately.
My driver takes us to the place, and all the while, Naomi chatters nervously away. She tells me about her job as a stylist. She mentions the fact that she was cheated on about a year ago, and all I can think of is what a total fucking idiot that guy was.
She tells me that she’s lived at The Bradford ever since and that it’s where she licked her wounds, and now she calls it home.
I can’t seem to stop staring at her. She’s trying to gauge my reaction and to get me to open up, but I’m just not that kind of guy. I hold my cards close to my chest on everything. I’ve found that it doesn’t work to my advantage to have people knowing too much too soon about who I am.
We get to the hotel, and I help her out of the car. She looks fucking gorgeous.
We go inside, and the room is spinning with all manner of financial people. A lot of society folk are here, and Naomi seems to fit right in. She, of course, has more style than any of them.
I lead her easily around the room, making introductions.
r /> “Hi, Simon, this is my date, Naomi.”
“Naomi Parish,” she says holding her hand out to greet him.
The girl is friendly and sociable—qualities I admire, because I don’t possess them. She’s like a goddamn social butterfly making the rounds, getting to know people.
We drink, and we dance, and we make our appearance—then I decide it’s time to go. Time to enact phase two of the plan.
“You ready to get out of here?” I breathe the words down her neck as we walk away from the dance floor.
“Ready when you are.”
I drag her away from the function and back to my waiting limousine. Suddenly, the idea of restraining my cock for one single second more is too overwhelming. Yes, I want to fuck this girl. But more than that, I find myself wanting to be with her.
I knew she was gorgeous from the times I saw her through the window, but I never imagined she’d be so fucking charming and smart and funny.
“Geez,” she says, trying to pull back from my grasp. “You in some kind of hurry?”
“Yes,” I growl so low that only she can hear me. “I’m in a hurry to get you home so I can peel that black dress off your body and fuck you until the sun comes up.”
Her eyes widen at my bold assumption. I know she wants it, too—otherwise, she wouldn’t be licking her lips and staring at me with a kind of glazed-over expression.
I’m about to show her exactly what being neighborly means—and it’ll be a night she’ll never forget.
Naomi
He drags me away from the fancy hotel and back to the limousine.
The man’s got some confidence to do a thing like that, but I’m not about to argue. Something about the look on his face and the blaze in his eyes tells me that he’s not a man to argue with.
I find myself submitting under the pressure of this moment. Besides, I want to be with him in all ways, especially this—especially what I know is coming.
I trust him, though I don’t know why.
Maybe it’s the way he handles me so roughly—and yet there’s a tenderness there, too. Maybe it’s because I’ve been secretly obsessed for so long.
He’s in control, and I’ve never had a man be like that with me before. It’s something I’ve been craving in the dark recesses of my soul, but I haven’t even been able to admit that to myself…until now.
With him, my deepest desires threaten to come to the surface, and I think I might be game.
And yet, his touch, his force—as thrilling as it all is, he causes a steady stream of nerves to run through my body.
“Come on, baby,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist.