Page 7 of Mr. Silver
“Have fun, you two,” Mums says with a wink in Scott’s direction. I groan. I can only imagine what they talked about while I was upstairs. “She doesn’t have a curfew.”
“Mum,” I snap. I’m almost twenty-six, this kind of mortification is not necessary. I knew I should have moved out already.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she calls as we head for the stairs.
“Please, just ignore her,” I plead.
“Aw, she’s sweet. And she’s right, of course…” Stopping on the small landing, he turns and I gasp as I find myself backed up against the wall, caged in by his arms. “You really shouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t.”
I bite back my initial response that there probably isn’t much she wouldn’t do because it’ll only give him the wrong idea, but when I watch his eyes darken before me, I realise he probably didn’t need me to say the words aloud.
My heart races and my breaths start to come out as pants the longer he stares down at me. “I…I thought we were going for dinner.”
“We are. I just needed to check something first.”
“Oh—” I don’t get to say anymore because his lips press against mine and his hand lands on my waist. Electric sparks fire off around my body and I’m powerless to do anything but return his kiss when his lips part and his tongue finds mine.
Holy shit.
My hands fist the fabric of his jacket in an attempt to stay upright as the taste of him explodes in my mouth.
It’s over all too quickly. And as I stand a panting mess against the wall, he still looks like a perfectly put-together businessman. “Wh-what was that?” I breathe.
“Thatwas exactly as I expected it to be.”
“And what was that, exactly?” I ask, feeling a little more composed as he once again takes my hand and we make our way to the exit of the building.
“Thatwas just the beginning of what promises to be an explosive night.”
Everything inside me clenches and any doubts I had about tonight seem to vanish as if they never existed.
When we step out of the building, there’s a man waiting by the curb. The second he sees us, he pulls the back door of a sleek black car open.
“You’re joking, right?”
“What?”
“You have a driver?”
“Just get in.” He laughs, shaking his head.
The atmosphere inside the small space of the car is filled with tension. He’s only inches from me, and the memory of his taste and kiss make it hard not to reach out for him. But telling myself that I’m not one of those women, I keep my fingers entwined in my lap and focus on the buildings passing by outside.
“You’re not doing as good of a job at looking indifferent as you’d like to think.”
I fight to keep my eyes away from him. “Is that right?”
“It is.” I flinch when his fingertips run down the length of my neck, and I can’t fight it any longer.
My eyes meet his and the silence stretches out between us for long seconds.
“Your pupils are dilated, your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen.” His thumb runs over my bottom lip and his eyes follow his movement. “I know you want this as badly as I do.” His voice is rough and deep, and it hits me exactly as he intends it to.
But it pisses me off.
“I agreed to dinner, Mr. Hudson.”
“I’m not sure you ever really agreed.”
“True,” I whisper, once again looking anywhere but at him. He’s made it very clear how well he can read me and I’m not sure how much more I want to give him.
