Page 102 of Naughty Nelle

He winked at me. “Did you enjoy your prize?”

I gulped as I watched him put the spoon to his luscious lips and languidly lick my glistening sex off it. His tongue rolled around the surface as if he were savoring the last bit of creamy sweet frosting.

“Mmm,” he moaned. “I hope you’re still up for dessert. Seriously, the crème brûlée here is orgasmically good.”

Jesus. What was it with this man? I’d had enough orgasms to last a lifetime. Well, at least, for the next twenty-four hours. The thought of another creamy, mind-blowing dessert was almost anti-climactic, no pun intended.

“Sure,” I stuttered, my pussy still buzzing.

His lush, shimmering lips twisted into another wicked dimpled smile. “You won’t be disappointed.”

I tried not to read too much into his words. While we waited for the dessert to arrive, I silently stared at his beautiful face, realizing that I knew so little about this man who had robbed me of my virginity and made me explode with unparalleled bliss more than once.

“What do you do?” I asked, finding the strength and courage to interrogate him.

“I’m a businessman.”

“So, you were on a business trip to Philadelphia today?”

“No, my company is based there. I commute back and forth every day.”

That was a big distance to travel twice a day, but obviously his employer made the round-trip worthwhile. He was obviously wealthy. Very wealthy.

“Why don’t you live in Philly?”

“Because I love Manhattan.” He quickly changed the subject. To me. His voice was flirtatious. “And what do you do?”

“I work for—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Ari jumped up from his seat.

My eyes followed him as his long legs strode to the front of the restaurant. And then my heart leaped into my throat.

The gorgeous redhead! And she was in Ari’s arms.

My emotions skipped over jealousy and sprinted straight to rage. How could he do this to me? And so shamelessly right in front of me?

Without putting on my other shoe, I sprung up from the table and hobbled over to them. If people were staring at me, I was oblivious. The redhead gave me the once-over, the expression on her face suspicious and patronizing. As if I were in a league below her and didn’t belong here.

Ari’s face, however, brightened. “Saarah—”

“Don’t ‘Saarah’ me.” In a swift, heated move, I yanked off my other Jimmy Choo and flung it at him. “You can keep your damn shoes! And eat your precious dessert all by yourself.”

I stormed out of the restaurant, pretty sure I would not be returning to The Palm any time soon. Make that ever. With tears pouring down my face, I headed west on Forty-Fifth Street. I hadn’t brought along my wallet, so I was going to have to walk home barefoot. Fortunately, the night was still warm.

Tears kept coming. Past Third. Past Lexington. Past Park. Happy, laughing young couples, taking advantage of the fine weather, passed by me, but they were all just a blur.

I wanted to get him out of my mind. Erase him forever. But I couldn’t. The inner throbbing just wouldn’t go away. I hated him. I hated her. And I hated myself most of all. How could I be so stupid to fall for this callous man? To give him my body, pure and unadulterated? To trust him? My mother had always told me to wait for someone who really loved you. She made the mistake of not—and had to raise me as a single parent. I should have listened to her words of wisdom. And right now, there was nothing that I wanted more than to talk to my mother. To tell her everything. To hear her consoling words and feel her loving embrace.

When I got home, I was going to soak my feet, wash him and the street grime away, and then take a pair of scissors to his little black dress and shred it to pieces. I was going to go back to being who I really was. Sarah, plain and tall.

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