Page 14 of Drunk on You

Before she arrived, I thought about this, figured if neither one of us wanted to go a year without sex and she was down, I’d throw it out there that I was down to fuck. But what I didn’t consider was that I would be so damn attracted to her that I wouldn’t look at having sex with her as a chore.

And as I stare at this woman who has me feeling so much in such a short time, I wonder why the hell I couldn’t have met her at a bar or a club and gotten to know her. Because then we’d both be here with the same goal in mind. But life doesn’t work that way, and she’s here for the money, which means if I fuck her right now, it’s as if I’m paying her to do so.

But then an idea hits me. One I can’t believe I’m even considering. What if we get to know each other and give this whole thing between us a real go? Fuck, the idea is crazy, borderline insane, but what if she’s the one? Maybe my conversation with Samuel is getting to my head and making me soft. But it’s something I need to figure out before we take things any further.

And so, instead of doing what my cock wants me to do—lift her by her ass and set her on the counter so I can fuck her seven ways to Sunday—I think with my head and heart and take a step back.

“I want you,” I tell her truthfully. “But I think we should take things slow.”

“I don’t understand,” she says, her brows furrowing together in confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” I shake my head, feeling like I’m fucking this all up, which doesn’t surprise me since I’ve never been in this situation before. “It’s just that every woman in my life has always been nothing more than a one-night stand, and for the first time, I think I want something more with you.”

Her eyes go as wide as saucers, and she jumps off the counter, putting distance between us. “More, as in wanting a fake fiancée, right?”

I’m not even sure what the hell she’s asking, but the panic in her voice has me taking a step back. This is too soon. She’s not there yet, which makes sense since we’ve only known each other for a fucking minute and I’m acting crazy.

I blame Samuel completely for this. Before our stupid talk, I was doing just fine. But then he had to go and point out how I’m getting older, and I haven’t started a family yet. And how great it is to be in love and that he wants that for everyone. And now, here I am, losing my damn mind over the first woman I’ve been attracted to on a deeper level.

“Ian,” Stacey says, “when you said you want more, you meant that you want me as your fake fiancée and not a one-night stand, right?”

This time, she words the question so I understand what she’s asking and silently not saying—this can’t be anything more than a fake engagement.

“Yeah,” I choke out, backtracking. “I just meant that we should take things slow because we’re going to be spending a lot of time together and we don’t want to rush into shit. You know?”

“Yeah.” She nods slowly. “That’s what I thought you meant.” She steps toward me and places her hand on my bicep. “But if you change your mind … regarding sex, I’m here.”

And with those parting words, she saunters away, leaving me wondering if there’s something in my drink because if I didn’t know better, I would think I’m drunk on this fucking woman. I’ve known her for two damn days, and I was ready to profess … what, my love for her?

Thank God at least one of us is sober enough to think straight.

chapter five

ANASTASIA

The past seventy-two hours have felt like some weird dream that I can’t wake up from, and I’m not sure if I even want to. Ian Thomas has surprised me in more ways than one. He’s not only sweet and romantic, but he’s also gorgeous and nothing like I expected the businessman who was looking for a trophy wife to be like.

We’ve spent the weekend with him wining and dining me and showing me a good time while we get to know each other on a more personal level. I haven’t taken this much time off from work in God knows how long, and it’s been nice, enjoying some time relaxing and not having to worry about analyzing marketing data and consumer reports.

I came here with the goal of using Ian to get to my dad and his company and never thought in a million years that I would feel something more. So, when he told me he wanted to take things slow, I damn near lost my shit, thinking he was feeling something as well.

Thankfully, I misunderstood, and he just meant that he didn’t want to jump into bed yet since this was all new. I meant what I said about not wanting to repeat my dad’s mistakes, and the last thing I need is to start a new relationship while trying to convince my dad I’m the right person to run Kingston. All my attention needs to be on the company and my future.

Maybe if my dad had focused on the company instead of trying to have it all by marrying my mom and getting her pregnant, things wouldn’t have gone down the way they did. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful to be alive. But I didn’t ask to be born, and after watching what my parents went through and wishing my dad would give me the attention I craved while I was growing up, I’d never be dumb enough to do things the way he did.

With that said, that doesn’t mean I can’t successfully run the company with the vision he has. I don’t have to be married with kids to be a positive face of the company. That’s just his bleeding heart talking.

After spending the rest of the day on the boat, Ian and I went to dinner and then spent the evening binge-watching movies neither of us had taken the time to watch.

On Sunday, he was supposed to take me to the country club, but instead, we spent the day by his pool, making out, swimming, and eating, enjoying the last day of our little bubble we’d created.

Now, it’s Monday, and he left early this morning for work—which reminds me that I should probably ask him where he works. We were so focused on each other this weekend that we didn’t get into details about anything in the outside world. And although I don’t need to know details like that, I find myself wanting to know more about him.

But right now, my mind needs to be clear because I’m on my way to meet my dad for breakfast. I haven’t seen him in six years—since my mom’s funeral—and my feelings are all over the place.

I pull up to the restaurant we agreed to meet at and get out, handing the valet my keys. Ian got me a beautiful Mercedes crossover. He asked what kind of vehicle I wanted, and since I’ve barely driven since moving to London, I told him something safe, but not too big. He did good—that’s for sure.

When I get to the hostess stand and give her my dad’s name since he made the reservations, I’m taken back to a small, private room, where I find my dad waiting for me.

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