Cherry Popper (Cherry 1)

Just when my hand moved into her hair and I gripped her waist, she pulled her delicious lips away and bowed her head. I felt her slip from my grasp, her petite waist fleeing my fingertips.

She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest, like that would somehow keep me away. “If you came here to seduce me, it won’t work.”

“I just wanted to kiss you. Harmless.”

She touched her bottom lip like I’d bit her. “I don’t know if I would describe it as harmless.”

“You liked it.”

“That’s exactly the problem.” She looked at the ground for a moment before she raised her gaze to meet mine. “You should go.”

That kiss only made me want her more, and I wouldn’t walk away without a fight. “Let’s get some dinner together.” Maybe being out of her apartment would make her more comfortable. I didn’t come here so I could quickly fuck her on her couch. “And talk.”

“I said you won’t change my mind.”

“Then a dinner won’t hurt, right? I’m asking for a meal, not your virginity.”

“Actually, you are.”

I shrugged. “Well, I’m not asking for it right away. Come on, my treat.” For someone like her, a meal out must be a deathblow to her bank account. I’d been wealthy for a long time, so I never had to worry about the cost of anything. I just got what I wanted—even if I didn’t really need it. There was no such thing as a budget. “Or we could stand here all night until our knees start to hurt.”

My humor seemed to calm her down, because she smiled. “Alright. But I’m only agreeing because I’m starving.”

We went to a deli around the corner because it was the closest thing to walk to. I’d never eaten there or heard of it, but it seemed like she’d visited the place a few times. She knew exactly what she wanted the second she stepped inside. We both ordered our food then carried our trays to a booth in the corner. It was a quiet night, so we pretty much had the entire place to ourselves.

It wasn’t the most romantic setting, but maybe that was a good thing.

Like the last time we had a meal together, she ate everything, but she did it slowly, like she was trying to make it last.

“Are you always this hungry?” I asked, only taking a few bites of my sandwich because it was way too many carbs.

“Yes.” She opened her bag of chips and popped a few into her mouth. “Do you always eat just a portion of your food?”

“Yes. At least when it’s bread.”

“I guess that makes sense. You wouldn’t have an eight-pack if you ate whatever you wanted all the time.”

“You like my eight-pack?” I asked, noting the praise in her voice.

“That’s not a fair question. Every woman likes a solid eight-pack.”

“Not necessarily. Men can have eight-packs because they have no fat. I have no fat, but I also have a lot of muscle.”

She popped another chip into her mouth. “So that’s what we’re going to talk about tonight? Objectifying your body?”

“Hey, you brought it up.”

“Not really.”

I rested my arm over the back of the booth as I stared at her, her beautiful face far too stunning for a joint like this. Her apartment annoyed me because she deserved better. But at least she didn’t have any roommates.

“Where do you live?”

I raised an eyebrow at the question.

“So you can arrive at my doorstep without warning, but I can’t ask where you live?” she asked incredulously.

“I live in Manhattan—close to work.”

“So in a penthouse at the top of a skyscraper.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I’m going with maybe.” She kept eating. “I’m surprised you’re here. You said you have a long list of women who would love your attention for the night. I can’t imagine why you’re here, picking at a sandwich with a woman who can barely tolerate you.”

“Barely tolerate? You tolerated me just fine during that kiss.”

“That kiss didn’t mean anything. It was just a kiss—”

“That you enjoyed.”

“So? I enjoyed your dick in my mouth, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it again.”

The air left my lungs at the casual way she said those words. She clearly possessed the innocence of someone inexperienced, but she also had the confidence of a woman who could do anything.

It took me a few seconds to respond because I couldn’t get the image out of my head. If I thought about it too long, I could feel that perfect tongue against the bottom of my shaft. I gripped the back of her head and fucked her mouth like it was a toy rather than part of a person. Despite it being her first time, I certainly wasn’t delicate, but I was never delicate. It was my fantasy—not hers. “I’d like to do that again.”