Page 5 of Seduction in Spades

“You—” She glances down at my lap, and the corner of her mouth lifts. “You know, I don’t think I’m going to apologize for that.”

I curse under my breath and nudge her drink closer. “Drink. Slowly. Take a small sip, followed by chocolate.”

I watch as she picks up the glass, sniffs, swirls it, then takes a small sip. Her brow arches as she sets the glass down and reaches for a chocolate. She bites it and an instant moan escapes her lips.

“Oh my god. I was right. This is truly an orgasmic experience.”

Holy fuck. If she moans this loud and intense over tequila and chocolate, how the hell will she sound in my bed?

Not tonight, Nolan.Damn. Even when I have a one-night stand, I’ve at least met and interacted with the woman before our date. I’ve never slept with a woman an hour after meeting her. And never not knowing her name.

“Now that you’ve orgasmed in front of me, don’t you think I should learn your name?”

Her long lashes flutter, and she lifts those gorgeous mossy-green eyes to me. “I think it prolongs the foreplay, don’t you?”

Shit. Any longer, and I’ll be making a mess in my jeans.

She takes another sip, then points to my glass. “Are you going to join me in this... orgasmic experience?”

CHAPTER TWO

Idon’t know what’sgotten into me.

Tequila. Tequila and the most heavenly, rich chocolate. And this god of a man sitting so close, his muscular thighs keep brushing up against my legs. I may have purposely swiveled to the side so there was no choice but to bump legs.

When I almost elbowed him in the face on the dance floor and he gripped my arm, I thought my heart was going to explode in my chest. I hadn’t meant to flail my arms so high, but I love Usher and the song was one of my favorites.

All thoughts of Usher quickly dissipated when piercing blue eyes caught mine. And when his muscular hand wrapped around my arm? Holy shit, the man is built like the man of steel with matching dark hair, blue eyes, and a jawline Krissy, my former roommate and art history guru, would swoon over.

I never understood the idiosyncrasies of a jawline, cheekbones, or bone structure. Krissy always had an array of drawings pinned up around our tiny apartment in New Orleans and would drone on about facial imperfections. To me, I knew a good-looking person when I saw them.

And holy shit, did I see one now. I’m not a shy woman, but I’ve never been so forward. If I let this man who didn’t seem to fit in with the crowd walk away, I feared I’d never see him again. Dressed in a tight black Henley and dark jeans, he didn’t look the club-going type. Or the type who would stalk a dance floor on ladies’ night looking to hook up.

If anything, he looked like he wanted to get the hell out of there, which made dancing and grinding on him even more fun. Much to my dismay, he kept his hands to himself and remained a perfect gentleman.

Too bad he wasn’t around earlier when the obnoxious punks who thought ladies' night would be an easy lay night had their hands all over me. Not that it was necessarilymethey wanted. Any willing woman would have sufficed.

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