Page 6 of Seduction in Spades

This guy though. He’s different. I hadn’t meant to be a tease and keep my name to myself, but I like how he keeps begging me for it. Okay, maybe begging is too strong a word to use, but I can see it turning that way.

Especially with how smoothly this tequila is going down. Superman doesn’t need fancy tequila and fancy chocolate to make my legs quiver. His solid chest and bulging biceps did that on the dance floor.

And it’s not just his body that’s impressive. His facial features are hard and angular, but those baby blues soften him, turning him into a freaking sex god.

The gentlemanly manners are the icing on the cake. The dark chocolate orgasms. While I’m quite content in his company, sipping on this fancy tequila and staring into the depths of his sexiness, I’m tempted to cross the line and ask him back to my place.

I’ve lived in the city for barely a month, and already I’m tempted to bring a man back home. Not my usual style. The educated side of my brain is telling me it’s a stupid, brainless idea. Aren’t all serial killers good-looking men? Maybe we’d have one night of epic sex, but then what if he turns out to be a creep and stalks me? I’d have to find a new apartment.

Living in Boston is expensive, and there’s no way I could afford my current place, even as small as it is, if my brother didn’t own the building. I’d refused his rent-free offer, needing to prove I could do this on my own. I’m not too prideful to turn down the family discount he’d made up though. Younger by three years, yet once he hit puberty, he thought he could be the boss of me.

If he found out I had to move because of a guy I brought home, he’d find a way to lock me in his house and make me live with him. Love him dearly, but we’re not roommate material, and I don’t need him meddling in my sex life.

“You went quiet on me. What are you thinking about?”

“My brother.”

“Ouch.” Superman runs his hand through his hair, inadvertently flexing his biceps with the move. I’m sure it’s second nature to him. Picking up a piece of paper off the ground would cause his back muscles to flex, his ass, his traps. “I must be off my A-game if you’re thinking about your brother.”

I take another sip and another bite, intentionally drawing out the silence before I respond. Really, I’m debating if I should use a funny, snarky, or sexy comeback.

He leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. It’s not a macho move. I don’t feel threatened or intimidated. He can’t help it if he’s a big guy.

So, sexy wins. “I was thinking how pissed he’ll be at me for inviting a man I just met back to my apartment for a night of wild sex.”

Superman coughs, his arms fall by his side as he squirms in his seat. He tosses back the rest of his tequila and bites into a piece of chocolate, stalling like I had a minute ago.

“I’d be pissed if my sister did the same.”

“You have a sister?”

He nods. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah, but talking about our siblings is kind of a mood killer. I’d like to loop back around to the other part of my statement.”

“The part where you invite a man you don’t know back to your place for a night of wild sex?”

“Yeah. That part.”

He nudges the plate of chocolate closer to me, silently offering me the last truffle. My heart wants to instantly fall in love with him simply for that move alone.

“If I was your bro—” He cringes and corrects, “Friend, I’d strongly advise you not to bring a strange man back to your place. With your beauty, your wit, and your love for... chocolate, he could find himself insanely attached to you. The next thing you know, he’s waiting for you on your doorstep after work, ringing your doorbell at all hours of the night. Not a safe move for a stunning woman like yourself.”

He’s warning me off, yet not from him. The seriousness in his tone and the line between his brows tells me he won’t be impressed if I invite him back to my place. The irony is his warning doesn’t scare me off. It only makes me more attracted to him.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t even think of inviting a strange man back to my place.” I pluck the last piece of chocolate from the plate and pop it into my mouth. I don’t even attempt to contain my moan.

I’m no expert in tequila, but I’ve had my share of chocolate. Wherever this bar gets its chocolate is the bomb. The perfect blend of dark chocolate and sweet creamy filling that literally melts on my tongue. It’s unreal.

“Favorite music?” I ask, keeping the conversation light.

“Eighties rock.”

“Nice era. Favorite band.”

“Too many to narrow it down.”

“Top three.”

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