“A bottle of champagne. We’ll be eating too. We’ll start with bruschetta,” I said thinking the bread would help absorb the alcohol. “Can you bring menus?”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned to Sara. “Have you ever been to a club?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never even been to a dance.”
“Another sin?”
She looked at me, her expression looking a little embarrassed. “You must think I’m a total bore.”
I frowned. “Bore?”
“All this, your life, life in the city. I feel like I’m on another planet.” She looked out over the club again.
“That doesn’t make you a bore. In fact, I enjoy watching you take it all in.”
She blushed, or maybe it was the champagne.
Darla arrived with the champagne and the bruschetta. Then she handed us menus.
“Thank you, Darla. We’ll need a minute.” When she walked off, I turned to Sara. “Eat up, then we can order and dance.”
Her eyes widened again. “We can dance?”
I laughed. “Yes.”
She bit her lip, and god dammit, I wanted to bite her there too. “I’ve never danced. I don’t know how.”
“There’s no right or wrong to dancing in a club.”
She laughed. “Yeah but I bet I could still embarrass myself.”
I shook my head. “Not possible.” Sara had a body meant for dancing. And fucking.
She took a bite of the bruschetta and then moaned and closed her eyes. Jesus, was everything she did sensual? The worst part was that as far as I could tell, she was oblivious to her sensuality. I usually had a pretty good radar when it came to women and what they were after. Some just wanted a good fuck, while others were after a ring and money. As far as I could, Sara was just trying to experience life.
While the glass barrier cut down on the noise, it was still loud and so I moved closer to her as I poured the champagne. At least that’s what I’d told myself.
She smelled clean and fresh, and I realized that was probably her soap or shampoo. If booze and dancing were sins, chances were perfume was too. As I poured her drink, I looked down at the soft, smooth looking skin exposed just above her tits. That outfit was probably a sin too. I had an urge to bend over and run my tongue over the swells of her cleavage. My thoughts were definitely sinful.
“This is one of your clubs,” she said to me.
“It is. You’ve done your research.” I wasn’t surprised. Her marketing report for the Palm Beach Resort, which I bought that morning, showed she was thorough.
She nodded. “Your brother started this one, and then you expanded and now own clubs in Los Angeles, Miami, Las Vegas, and Nashville.”
“Plus London, Berlin, and Tokyo.” I rested my arm on the booth behind her.
She turned her body toward me, her blue eyes twinkling like it was Christmas morning. “Have you been to all of them? Even in other countries?”
I nodded and for the first time was a little embarrassed by my wealth. “I’ve been to all our properties. Clubs, hotels, restaurants, all over the world.”
She closed her eyes like she was imagining what it was like in each location. A strange pull in my chest had me wishing I could show them all to her.
She opened her eyes and smiled. “I’ve never been out of New York. I’ve barely been off Staten Island.”
“You’ve taken your first steps to explore the world.” I tugged lightly on one of her silky strands of hair, needing to touch her.
She nodded. “Yes, well, I doubt I’ll ever be able to travel like you, but I do want to see as much as I can.”
Darla returned. “Have you decided on what you want, Mr. Raven?”
I hadn’t even looked at the menu. But I knew the chef. “Can you tell Dom to make us shrimp scampi over pasta.” I turned to Sara. “You’re not allergic, are you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
Christ, she’d never had shrimp? I turned back to Darla. “Can you bring is some of his special French bread as well?”
Darla nodded, took our menus, and left.
“I feel a little like Dorothy in Oz,” Sara said, once again looking up at me with her large blue eyes.
“Just don’t click your heels yet.” I grinned.
She shook her head. “I’m never going home.”
Again, her words had me wondering about her life. Was she sheltered? Had she been abused? I wanted to know, but knew that now wasn’t the time or place. Tonight, was about giving her experiences she’d never forget. Immediately, my brain flashed with a vision of her naked and writhing under me as I plunged inside her body. Would I be different from other men she’d had before? I remembered her comments about sin. Fucking was definitely a sin, and I wondered for a moment if she was a virgin. I shook my head at that. She was a beautiful, sexy, nineteen-year-old college student who clearly wanted to experience life. Sex had to be a part of her living-life bucket list.