Page 28 of Heated
And standing here, waiting on Zora Nelson—thank you, NDA, for solving the mystery of her full name—I have zero doubts that I’m about to fuck up.
I glance down at my cell and pull up our text thread—the one I initiated. I issued the invite at 6:46. It’s now 7:32. From her place, itwould take about twenty minutes to get here. She’s not coming. And I can’t blame her.
That text ... I’d debated sending it. From the time the nebulous idea had coalesced in my head several hours after Donald and Derrick left my office, I’d gone back and forth on reaching out to Zora about this plan that alternately strikes me as harebrained and desperate. Still, none of that stopped my fingers from typing the words out. But in the time that followed, even after her outright refusal and then silence, I never messaged rescinding the invite. Just as I haven’t left this store even though I’ve made my purchase. And I won’t for another twenty-eight—now twenty-six minutes.
Because I need her.
And I want to see her.
Fuck it, I do.
As soon as she walked away from me in the Bacon Social House parking lot, I wanted to pursue her, cup that perfectly rounded hip, press my chest to her spine, my cock to the delicious curve of her ass, my lips to the curls covering her ear and ... and ...
And ask her not to leave.
Yeah, there. I said it.
I damn near vibrated with the need to beg her to be the very thing I can’t afford with a potential partnership in my sights, with the goals I promised myself, promised my parents I’d obtain, within my grasp.
A distraction.
Distract me. Tease me. Disturb me. Make me feel something other than ... me.
Use me.
God, I want her to use me.
But now, more than ever, I can’t afford distractions.
Before this afternoon—before Donald dangled my future in front of my face like a golden carrot—would I have asked her to this bookstore to proposition her? To beg her to let me taste her sweet flesh, findout for myself if it will melt on my tongue? To let me between those pretty thick thighs and lose myself in a body created for beauty, for pleasure, to offer a safe haven from the shit in my head, even if only for a little while?
No. Because I’m not that guy. And she’s damn sure not that woman.
But ... maybe. Maybe we could’ve been that guy and that woman for each other.
Still, that was before.
The door below opens again, and even before my eyes transmit the image of a mass of dark curls to my brain, my cock hardens, throbs, recognizing her. For a moment, I still, unable to tear my gaze away from her. From the cream long-sleeved thermal shirt and open navy puffy vest that can’t conceal the thrust of her much-more-than-a-handful breasts to the toned and thick thighs encased in dark-blue denim to the brown lace-up knee-high boots. And back up again. Because she’s a delightful terrain that has to be traveled more than once.
After setting my book down on the arm of a sofa, I quickly tap out a message to her.
Me: Look up.
She starts, pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans—fucking lucky phone—and, seconds later, tips her head back.
I can’t clearly see her eyes from this distance, but that doesn’t make a damn bit of difference. The impact of her visual touch is both a soothing balm and a fist-tight stroke down my dick.
Goddammit. Everything in me craves to be that guy.
I don’t move, struck motionless by her and my almost resigned need.
My feet moving before I grant them permission, I walk over to the landing, meeting her as she crests the top of the staircase.
For a moment, we stare at each other. I study each feature, separately and together. And those brown eyes take my inventory too. I haven’t cared too much in the past about whether a particular woman found me attractive; since I hit high school, it was just a fact. I’ve never had to work too hard for female attention. But her? Suddenly, I understand the lure of a beautiful predator. If Zora finds my face pretty, my body tempting, then I’ll unashamedly use them both to get what I want—her acquiescence.
Her,my greedy subconscious growls.
I ignore it. She’s not on the table.
