Chapter Two

Tess

Kingisoneofthe most attractive guys I’ve seen in a long time.

Scratch that.

The most attractive.

He’s got this business-guy attire going on, with tailored pants that hug his ass and a suit jacket that’s, unfortunately, keeping what I’m fairly certain are killer arms hidden from view.

His dark brown hair is just a little too long, adding an almost disheveled look to him. It’s like chronic bedhead but in the most attractive way possible; it just makes me want to run my fingers through his hair.

The parking lot is secluded but I’d rather we were somewhere more private. Yet he makes no move to take me to his car. His hand has not left my waist, and his face is buried in my neck.

God, I want him now.

This thought comes to a screeching halt when a fancy black car pulls up in front of the Dot. An older man, dressed in a white button-up and a pair of black slacks, gets out and opens the back door.

I glance at King. He nods at the man, and then turns to me, “This is Edward, my personal driver. Edward, this is Tess.”

Edward simply nods and waits until we’re both seated in the comfortable back end of the car to close the door again.

King reaches for my lips again and I feel the butterflies swarming inside of my chest where there had been none before. A one-night stand? Sure, why not? It’s not as if I’m going to ever come back to The Dot. I might not even come back to San Francisco for another year or two.

But as much as I want this, I can’t help feeling a bit awkward that there’s somebody else in the car.

Sure, Edward seems perfectly polite about it when he gets in and starts the engine, not saying a single word to either of us, but that doesn’t mean he’s not aware of what’s happening in the backseat. Or that we are about to have a one-night stand.

It just feels way different, having someone else bear witness to it.

As though he can tell what I’m thinking, King pulls away but braces a hand on my thigh, just beneath the hem of my dress, so his palm is pressed to bare skin. He gives it a reassuring squeeze, and then leans forward and clicks a button.

Slowly, a dark-tinted window rises up, separating us from the driver.

“Soundproof,” he says with a wink. “Edward’s not interested in peeking.”

It’s true that the window is tinted so dark, there’s no way that the guy can see us. But it still feels very weird to have someone else in the car with us.

Less so, once King presses his lips on mine again. His tongue is in my mouth, whiskey on the back of it, sharp and burning. I’ve got wine on mine, I’m certain.

What can I say? He’s an easy guy to get lost in. The way he kisses me makes me feel like I’m drowning in him; almost like the whole world fades away until we’re the only two people left.

He hasn’t shaved today, or at least not recently. There’s just a bit of stubble scraping against my cheeks when he works his way over my jawline and down the long curve of my neck, tongue to my skin, and teeth too.

The hand on my thigh creeps up, vanishing under my dress. It’s nothing too much, nothing too heavy, but each brush of his skin against mine has me feeling as though I’ve been set on fire. Like there’s something in my blood that longs for him to touch me even more.

“I didn’t expect to meet someone like you tonight,” King whispers between open-mouthed kisses. His hand pulls away from my thigh, but only so he can push the scarf from my shoulders. The black fabric falls onto the seat and then the floor.

“Trust me,” I say, with a breathless laugh. “The feeling’s mutual. I thought—” I bite my lower lip to stop me from moaning when his teeth catch on the tender lobe of my ear. “That I would have a few drinks and then head back to my hotel.”

“My place is better than a hotel. Doesn’t matter which one you’ve got a room in,” King says.

“I think you beat out any plans I’d made,” I admit, reaching out and taking the chance to feel up his arms. Just like I thought. The fabric might be hiding those sculpted muscles from view, but it’s sure not hiding them from my touch.

King’s clearly the kind of guy that likes to go to the gym. And I’m the sort of girl that very much appreciates guys who are built.

God damn, those arms are firm.