Page 2 of The Passion

Finding myself sitting in the Beaufort Bar at The Savoy, I run my fingers up and down the stem of my champagne glass, feeling the restlessness in my body from all the stress of today. It’s days like today that make going home to my apartment after work feel so lonely.

Harper was busy with one of her sisters’ family, so I decided to stop off here on my way home. Just to take the edge off, and to be honest, I didn’t feel like drinking alone.

Instead, I’m sitting at the bar and keeping Celine, the bartender, company. Or maybe, truth be told, she is the one keeping me company.

Engrossed in my thoughts of the day and staring into my champagne, my senses are awakened by a strong scent that drifts past me. It has a hint of sweetness mixed with a strong sense of manly yum! I can’t even explain it, but all I know is mywhole body responds to it. A strange sensation that I haven’t felt before runs down my spine. Straightening up in my seat, I look into the mirror at the back of the bar to try to take a glance, one that isn’t super obvious, at the man who is walking behind me.

Just as I focus, his back is now to me, and all I see is a dark navy suit jacket, wide shoulders, and the back of a brown-haired head. The hairstyle is trimmed neatly and doesn’t have a hair out of place. He is talking with another man who seems a little older than him and not my type at all. It looks like it’s the end of a meeting, as they shake hands, and the older man makes his way out the door.

Mr. Sweet and Delicious reaches into his jacket pocket, I’m assuming to retrieve his wallet or phone. I’ve never had such a visceral response to a man’s cologne before, but I can tell the view from behind is just as enticing. I try to shake it off, but it’s too late, as he starts turning toward the bar with his wallet in his hand, and our eyes lock in the mirror. Just like that, I’m gone.

Maybe it’s the day or the alcohol, but all parts of my brain that should be telling me to look away have switched off, and the moment he takes the slow step toward me, I’ve already decided in my head that I want this guy to fuck me tonight.

Long and hard!

I know who he is, and that should be enough to put a stop to my horny libido, but instead, it just makes me want him more. It’s a challenge to seduce a man I know must be fighting the same battle I am.

I’m off limits to him, as much as he is off limits to me.

Flynn Taylor.

Second-in-charge and Chief Operating Officer to Nicholas Darby at Darby Hotels, our biggest competitor in the boutique hotel market.

They’re all powerful men that I have met before but keep at a distance. There’s a mutual respect between us, and that’s theway I like it. They are different to my father in that they see me as an equal, something my father will never do.

As he gets closer, I can see the intensity in his eyes as he scans me all over as I swivel my bar stool just slightly in his direction. Gone is my suit jacket from earlier today, and instead, I’m wearing a black silk camisole and my cream skirt that’s molded over my thighs and rear end. Pearls hang around my neck and simple pearl earrings drop from my ears. I am never without jewelry. Gold and diamonds on my fingers make me feel feminine, even while I continue to show the world my dominance in my actions.

I can feel my heartbeat increasing slightly at the way he is looking at me in the mirror. Not saying a word, just unbuttons his suit jacket and slides into the seat at the bar next to me. He could have picked any seat, but the one next to me suits me just fine.

Trying not to give anything away, I take a slow sip of my champagne, licking the last drop off my lip as he places cash on the bar in front of him, signaling the bartender back over.

“What can I get you, sir?” Celine asks him, and I can tell she is also enamored by this man. The difference is he makes her self-conscious.

For me, his strong manliness is a challenge.

Let the game begin!

“I’ll have a scotch on the rocks and another champagne for the lady,” he says, pushing his cash toward her.

Not wanting him to get the upper hand, I reply, “Make that another scotch, but neat, please. Thank you.” I turn my head to the side slightly to acknowledge his kindness and give him a nod. Then I look back ahead into the mirror. What the hell is the cologne this man is wearing? I can’t stop fixating on it. And it’s obvious that my body has some weird obsession with it.

We sit in silence for a few moments until the scotch is placed on the bar.

“Long day or are you looking for something strong?” he asks, picking up the cut-crystal glass in front of him and tilting it toward me.

Pushing my now empty champagne glass to the side, I wrap my hand, with my perfectly manicured nails, around my scotch and tap it a few times with the gold tips of my nails. I swivel my stool completely in his direction, with my legs now facing him. I might have my legs crossed like a lady, but right now, I feel anything but.

I’m on the prowl, and I have no shame in admitting it.

Leaning forward just slightly so I’m in his personal space, my mouth now close to his ear, I whisper, “Not something… but perhaps someone.” And in that one sentence I have laid my cards on the table. He knows what I want, and now he needs to decide if he wants the same thing.

I watch the side of his neck and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he slowly swallows the smooth scotch in his glass.

Oh, he’s good. Not a flinch at my remark. I can usually see the tells on a man when they think they have me where they want me.

The Billionaire Lady Heiress is about to come back to their place, and they will have their way with me.

That will never happen!

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