“I think I’m drunk,” I told him when he sank into the seat next to me.
He chuckled and brushed a stray strand of hair from my shoulder. “I noticed that.”
“I wasn’t going to invite you tonight.”
“Well, I’m glad that you did.”
My blue eyes met his dark depths. He was so fucking hot. It was ridiculous. How did they make the men on the Upper East Side? Was it just the outstanding wealth? Or were they somehow their own breed entirely?
“Why do you want this?” I muttered. A question I never would have had the guts to ask while sober.
His hand slid up into my hair, fingering the silver strands. “Because you are entirely you, unequivocally you. Fearless, stubborn, brazen, and strikingly independent. You say what you mean and mean what you say. There are no games with you. No questions about where your head is.”
“Right now, my head is spinning.”
He just grinned at me. “You want this, too.”
“Maybe,” I whispered.
“I can tell in the way your eyes find me and the soft pant in your breath as I hold you and the rise of your chest when I get near.”
His lips were nearly upon mine. And all those things he’d said weren’t wrong. I wanted to kiss him. Fuck, before, I’d never wanted to stop kissing him. Only my conscience had gotten in the way. And now…now, I’d left that with the second martini.
I pushed forward, capturing his lips. Yes, I wanted this.
My hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer, closer, closer. There was too much space. Not enough skin.
I dragged my leg over his and straddled him in the backseat of the car. His hands slipped down to my waist as our kisses turned even more feverish. Tongues tasting, testing, knowing. Lips urgent and aggressive. I could feel his thickness through the soft material of his suit pants. My core pulsed at the feel of him. Wantonness took over as my body awakened, yawning open and suddenly remembering in sharp clarity how good this all felt.
I reached for the buckle of his belt when his hand clamped around my wrist.
“Natalie,” he exhaled, leaning his forehead against mine.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“Not like this.”
“You don’t want to?”
He coughed a laugh. “Oh, I do. I really do. But…you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Not that much.” I knew it was a lie even as I said it.
He kissed me once more, soft and tempting. A kiss that left me aching for more.
“Too much,” he said. “I won’t take advantage of your inebriation. Move to New York, and we’ll have plenty of time.”
“Lewis,” I groaned.
“It’s selfish. I want you here. But, beyond that, it’s good for your career.” He pulled back to look me in the eyes. “At least tell me that you’ll consider.”
I sighed, giving in to that gaze and those lips and the red-hot desire still hitting me like a freight train. “I’ll consider it.”
Natalie
12
I didn’t move to New York, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Even as my sister, Melanie, and her douche boyfriend, Michael, argued in front of me as if I weren’t present. Or as Amy went about her normal routine in Montgomery Gallery as if she hadn’t had the most amazing weekend with Enzo. Or as I tried to act as if everything were back to normal.
But I wasn’t back to normal. I was still stuck on this damn novel. The inspiration I’d had while in New York had vanished as soon as it had come. Caroline wanted a full synopsis and to read the pages, but I seriously wasn’t ready for that.
“Oh my god, would you two shut your mouths?” Amy yelled, finally blowing a gasket.
Melanie’s mouth snapped shut. Michael whirled on Amy as if he was going to give her a piece of his mind.
“Don’t even think about it.” Amy pointed her finger at him. “You’re in my gallery, and you can get the hell out if you so much as use the wrong tone with Melanie again.”
Michael schooled his features into disinterest and began to speak to Melanie less erratically. Melanie had come over straight from her last class at Grimke University, Charleston’s resident Southern Ivy, to pick me up to go to dinner at our parents’ tonight. Michael had shown up, unannounced, a few minutes later, and yelling had ensued. I didn’t even know what they’d been arguing about. It felt like everything lately. Ever since he’d dumped her to go to homecoming with her best friend last year, things had never been the same. And only Melanie didn’t see it.
“Now that I have some peace and quiet, I have to get back to work. Are you having any luck writing?” Amy asked me.
I shook my head. “Like, another chapter, but that’s it.”
“Another chapter is better than nothing. Maybe this book will just take longer to write.”