Page 55 of Electric Touch

Adrestia leans forward. She’s not drunk. We’ve only had half the bottle between us, but she is swaying towards me.

“How was your food, Tia, my girl?”

I scowl up at Yiannis, who has continually come to the table. I’m not entirely sure it’s about her mother, but more to do with her, the amount of times he’s interrupted us. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her, to be honest.

“It was great,” I say. Before Adrestia does, she has only just dragged her eyes away from me. “Could we get the check?”

“Er, why yes, of course, one moment. I’ll be right back.”

Adrestia looks at me, a slight smile on her lips. I ignore that, knowing what she is thinking.

“I’ve got this,” I tell her, taking out my wallet. She argues, but I hold up my hand. “Forget it. I’m buying, and then we are getting out of here.”

“We are?”

“We are.” I stare at her until Yiannis brings the check.

I don’t even look at it, just toss the money down. It’s more than the meal cost, but I don’t care. I stand and grab my jacket, waiting for her to do the same.

Then I take her hand. “Bye Yiannis.” I smirk as I hurry her out of the restaurant, without pausing to hear what he has to say.

“Where are we going?” She asks breathlessly as we emerge onto the dark sidewalk.

I turn to her, her hand still clasped in mine. “My place.”

“Oh.”

I grin at her expression, then turn and look for a cab. Why is there never one when you need it?

Chapter Sixteen

I sit beside Nash in the cab, looking out of the window. It started raining halfway there. Drops of rain hit the windows as the cab picks up speed, making them run sidelong across the glass. I stare through them, the lights making them look like rainbows. Everything is heightened. It feels like there is electricity running through the seat between Nash and me. It’s a wonder I’m not jerking across the seat, throwing myself at him. I don’t think the cab driver would appreciate that.

It seems to take forever to get to Nash’s apartment. He is looking out of the window on his side. I wonder what he is thinking. He turns as though he feels me looking. It’s written all over his face. He feels the same way I do. He places his hand flat on the seat between us. I look down at it and inch mine across. Nash interlaces our fingers and looks back out of the window.

I’m not one usually at a loss for words, but it feels as if this is a moment where no words are necessary. I know what’s coming. And want it. A part of me keeps going back to the list. This is number two, sleeping with someone famous. I should tell him. Although, I don’t want him to think I’m doing this because of the list. I would never do that.

“We’re here,” Nash squeezes my hand, snapping me from my thoughts.

I glance at him, then at the building beyond. He releases my hand and I slide across the seat and get out beside him. I ask about paying for the cab. Nash closes the door and hurries me across the sidewalk, to get out of the rain, he must have paid while I was lost in my head. He paid for the meal, too. I feel bad about that. Then Nash’s hand finds mine again, and he tugs gently, making me forget all my concerns.

It isn’t much of a lobby, just an empty room with a bank of mailboxes and a couple of chairs. The walls are painted off white and there is a worn grey carpet on the floor. It's a far cry from the lavish apartment building Jordan Adair lives in. Not that I’m at all concerned about where Nash lives. The elevator arrives and we get in.

“You okay with this?” Nash asks, the sound of his voice startling me out of my thoughts.

I turn to face him, our hands still clasped. “Yes,” I say.

“Good,” he leans towards me, cupping my cheek with his other hand. I expect him to push me against the wall, but he presses a gentle kiss to my lips.

I almost chase after his mouth when he pulls away. What is he doing to me? My heart is pounding, just from holding his hand and that one kiss. There is a warm, tingling sensation spreading through me, at its most intense between my thighs. I can barely walk as he leads me out of the elevator. He smirks, like he can read my mind.

Nash’s apartment is at the end of the hall. He lets go of me to unlock the door. He steps in and looks around, then closes the door behind us. My whole body tingles as he helps me out of my coat. Tossing it aside, Nash sweeps my hair over my shoulder, then lowers his head and kisses the side of my neck. My eyes close as his lips make contact. How can I be hot and cold all at once? He presses his body against mine, his other hand glides around my waist, pulling me tighter against him.

I rest my head back against his shoulder, baring my throat to him. He takes full advantage, his lips trailing over the skin and across my pulse point. I can’t help the moan that escapes. He must like that because his hand grips my hip harder. I lift my arm and reach up, running my nails along the side of his neck into his hair. Catching sight of us in the windows’ reflection makes my pulse spike.

I pull away and turn to face him, keeping my hand in his hair. Going up on my toes, I kiss his mouth. Nash wraps his arms around me. Our tongues tangle and he steals my breath. I get lost in the kiss.

When he pulls back, his lips are wet and puffy, his eyes half dazed. “My room,” he says.

---