An Accidental Date with a Billionaire
“Oh yeah.” She nodded.
“If you think I’m that smooth, what comes next?”
“Well, if I were to guess, I’d say after you offer a girl a drin
k or two, you’d usually get her on that couch and slowly inch toward her, making sure not to move too fast because a guy like you always makes sure to take your time and ensure your advances are welcome…”
“Am I right in guessing there’s a but in there somewhere…?” he asked, his gaze dipping to her mouth.
“Yes.” She smiled and downed her drink, setting it on the nearby table. “But…might I suggest a deviation from habit?”
He finished his beverage and discarded the glass, stepping back slightly, giving her more breathing room—something she didn’t want.
“Of course. I was already thinking we should take it sl—” He broke off when she caught his robe, halting his retreat.
“I don’t want slow. I don’t want caution.”
I’m throwing away sensible and going for it.
He flexed his jaw, his eyes narrowed. He studied her like the lions on the Discovery Channel did a wildebeest. He had her in his sights, and any second now, he might pounce. “What do you want?”
“You.” She curled her fists on his robe, not letting go. “I’d like to skip all of your normal steps and just get to the part where you make me scream your name out loud, against this window, and I’d like to do it now, please.”
He stared at her, his jaw ticking, his breathing unsteady.
But he didn’t move.
Had she read him wrong?
“That is, of course, unless you don’t want that.” She laughed, letting him go. “Oh God, you don’t, and I totally just threw myself at you, and you were just being nice and fulfilling your obligations, and I totally crossed the line just now, and I’m so frigging sorry. I’ll just go now and die dramatically—”
His mouth closed over hers, effectively shutting her up and sending her into the stars because he tasted like the forbidden and champagne.
Yes, please.
Chapter Eight
This was a dangerous game he played.
He wanted tonight to be different than the others. Sam was special, one of a kind, and she deserved more than the usual seduction games he usually played. Somewhere between dinner and his place, he’d decided that he wanted to break his rules and spend more than one night with her. This needed to be a take-it-slow, long-conversations-by-the-fire, get-to-know-you type of encounter, and the best way to ensure that happened was to keep his damn hands to himself…
Yet here he was. Kissing her.
In his defense, she had all but demanded it, and what was he supposed to do? Let her keep panicking and watch her run off? Never to see her again?
He wasn’t taking that chance. Taylor was a planner, not a risk-taker. As such, he’d come up with the perfect solution to their little problem. Neither of them wanted a second date, so he had come up with a way to avoid having one of those, while still getting to spend time with her: this date simply wouldn’t end.
She couldn’t go home.
He hadn’t yet figured out how to propose the idea without sounding as if he was trying to kidnap her…but he’d get there eventually. While she’d been in the restroom at the restaurant, he’d made a few discreet phone calls and worked out a defense for every reason he could think of that she might come up with to argue that she couldn’t stay.
Clothing. Food. Transportation. It was all covered except one thing:
She might not want to stay.
The only way to avoid that inescapable argument was to give her a reason to stick around. She wanted a screaming orgasm against his window? Fine. He’d give her one, but he refused to get one for himself. Refused to put her in the category she wanted to go in. He’d put her in a new one, and it had strict rules. He could give, but he couldn’t take.
Not tonight.