The beautiful Greek jerk had no qualms whatsoever in holding her tight, so damn tightly that every brush of their bodies made her ache at the way the pronounced ridge of his arousal rubbed her throbbing pussy in the most agonizing way.
The damn man displayed not a single ounce of shame as he practically seduced her with his every move.
His teeth nipping her lips in a fleeting kiss, his mouth brushing the bare slope of her shoulder in stolen kisses----
His fingers sweeping over her already pouting nipples in a forbidden caress, his hands squeezing the curve of her bottom under her silk dress---
And all the while he would pull her towards him, feeding – taunting – her desire with the way he would grind his erection against her.
It was just too much, and she was the first one to give in, her nails digging into his back when he tried pulling away. She pressed herself towards him, and his gray eyes blazed when she rubbed her breasts against his chest.
“Nathan.” His name came out a soft, breathy whimper.
“Alyx.” He hissed hers out, his hands tightening around her waist in rough possession.
His head lowered, and she held her breath.
“Should we---”
Meet at the nearest powder room in five minutes?
Run like hell to the limousine so they could have sex like bunnies in heat?
Not give a fuck about the world and just finish it here?
But Nathan ended up stiffening, a grim expression once again settling on his face as his expression swerved to somewhere behind her. “I need to go, Alyx. Could you excuse me for a moment?”
“Oh. Okay.”
She watched him walk away without a backward glance, more confused than hurt. When she saw him pause by the doorway, a woman threw herself at him, and Alyx stiffened.
When the woman pulled away, Alyx had a better look at her face, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that woman from photos on the Internet.
It’s okay, she thought.
It was just Nathan’s stepmother.
Alyx
He still had that look on his face.
I stopped dead in my tracks, having caught sight of the ex-model from outside the restaurant. He was seated next to the windows, a cup of untouched coffee in front of him. He looked the same on the surface – beautiful, sexy, powerful, and aloof, the Greek billionaire practically every woman in the planet swooned over.
But he wasn’t the same.
He hadn’t been so since the book launch his stepmother sort of gatecrashed a couple of days ago, and I just wished he would tell me why.
Entering the restaurant, I wasn’t surprised when he still didn’t notice my presence. Coming up to his table, I said, “Boo.”
Nathan jerked.
“Oh dear.” I sent him a look of sham sympathy. “Did I surprise you?”
A grimace crossed his gorgeous features as he swiftly slid to his feet. “I’m sorry.” His voice was stiff, with just the faintest hint of bleakness – so damn faint I had this nasty feeling that God only wanted me to hear it.
The thought almost had me looking up, a part of me tempted to complain.
It’s nice that You think I’m strong enough to handle all these challenges, but I actually don’t mind if You think I’m weak. I’d really, really love to have a happy-ever-after sooner than later, God.
“I didn’t realize you were already here,” Nathan was saying.
“That’s cool.” Not.
He helped me to my seat before returning to his. “Have you reviewed this place before?”
“No, not yet.” I looked around, grateful to have something else to focus on other than the huge-ass elephant in the room with us.
Our surroundings were beyond lovely, having succeeded in recreating Tuscany in a thousand-square-foot lot with its terracotta brick walls and matching floor tiles, hanging plants and vintage chandeliers, and elegant, black wrought iron dining setups.
Arch openings were also carved out of the walls with inlaid drawings depicting Tuscan sceneries, making it seem as if one only had to look out the “windows” to enjoy a glimpse of gently sloping hills, garden beds of poppies and sunflowers, and a crimson sun setting behind breathtakingly hand-painted vineyards.
“The owner is a friend of mine,” Nathan murmured, “and he’d love to have you feature his restaurant in your blog.”
“Oh. That’s cool.” I gave him a polite smile. “Thanks for the referral.”
“It’s always been my pleasure to talk about your work.” He reached for the menu. “Shall we order?”
“Sure.”
And then silence.
So this was what an awkward date felt like, I thought. It wasn’t that bad…if only it really were a first date and we didn’t actually have sex a gazillion times before this.
“Anything caught your fancy?”
“Nothing yet…” I hid myself behind my menu, raising it all the way up so I could make a face at him. Did this Greek jerk really think I could think about food while my heart was breaking? Why did everyone think I was so damn strong when I wasn’t?