Page 32 of The Situation
I set my drink on the end table.
Kelly looks up at me through her thick, dark lashes, peering into the depths of my soul. I study her just as deeply. I wish I knew her better—what she likes, what makes her tick.What are her points of vulnerability? What does she need from me?I’ve never really asked myself these questions about a woman, and certainly not one I’ve known for less than twelve hours.
But that’s a thought for a different day.
“Can I ask you one question?” she breathes.
“Absolutely.”
“How did you know when to make the reservations at Ruma?”
“Simple. I reserved a table for the whole evening.”
“They let you do that?” Her eyes nearly fall out of her head. “I’ve worked in the restaurant business. That’s not a thing at a high-end establishment on a busy evening.”
It is when you’re me.“It was a thing tonight.”
She tears her gaze from mine, hiding a smirk as she moves to the wall of windows once again.
“How were you there the moment I arrived?” she asks, facing the glass.
“The lobby has a clear view of the corridor leading to Ruma.”
“So you just sat there and waited on me?”
“I mean, I stood some of the time.”
She looks over her shoulder, and the look she gives me could start a forest fire. The gentle curve of her lip hints at mischief. There’s a knowing glint in her eyes. Her head slightly tilts to the side in a playful invitation.
I remove my jacket and toss it onto a nearby chair.
“You stood some of the time?” She laughs softly. “Who sits in a lobby with an open reservation just hoping someone walks by?”
I hold her gaze. “Someone who knows what they want.”
“And you want me?”
“You have no fucking idea how much I want you.”
My voice is rough and gravelly, and her lips part as the sound reaches her. My body tenses with anticipation. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
Kelly turns to face me. Candlelight dances in the reflection behind her, enveloping her in a warm glow. The amusement from moments ago is gone, and in its place islust.
“I’ve had a very shitty two years,” she says, her gaze boring into mine. “I want you to make me forget about it. Think you can do that?”
Motherfucker.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, smirking. Then I nod to the drink in her hand. “Finish it or get rid of it.”
She grins devilishly before downing the rest of the champagne.
I take the empty glass from her and place it next to mine.
“Now come here,” I say.
I take her hand in mine and pull her roughly to me. Her eyes go wide as she lands against my chest. Rapid breaths press her tits against me—round and perfectly sized for my mouth. Her dark eyes catch mine, wild and unmasked, like she’s struggling to anticipate my next move.
My body’s reaction to her is swift and violent—every inch buzzes with the need to take her. It requires every bit of restraint I can muster not to throw her over the back of the couch and fuck the hell out of her.
