“Hello, Mr. Miles.” The man at the desk smiles. “Your table is this way, sir.” Jameson takes my hand and leads me through to the corner of the restaurant; the waiter pulls out my chair.
“Thank you.”
“Would you like something to drink to start?”
“Yes.” Jameson peruses the wine menu. “Red?” he asks me.
“Whatever.” I shrug with a nervous smile.
“We’ll have a bottle of Henschke.”
“Yes, sir; which one?”
“Hill of Roses, please,” he replies as he closes the menu. The waiter disappears, leaving us alone.
“I’m guessing that you know your wine?” I ask.
He pours us both a glass of water. “I only go to restaurants that stock the wine I like. So yes, I suppose I know wine.”
“Ah. I see.” I smirk. “One of those.”
He smiles. “Perhaps.”
Our eyes linger on each other’s faces for a moment.
“I can’t believe you’re the frigging CEO.”
He chuckles and rests his face on his hand. “I thought you wanted a date with Jim tonight?”
“I did . . . I mean, I do.”
“Well, why are we talking about CEOs?”
I smile softly. “I don’t know.”
The waiter returns and opens the bottle of wine and pours a little in a glass. Jameson tastes it. “That’s fine.” The waiter fills our glasses and disappears.
Jameson holds his glass up, and I softly clink it with mine and take a sip and taste the rich, velvety flavor. “Hmm.” I nod. “I’m impressed.”
“I have excellent taste.” He smiles before falling serious again. “In all things.”
I smile bashfully; he’s talking about me.
“Tell me about last weekend,” he asks.
“Not much to tell.”
“You broke up with him?”
“It was a long time coming.”
“You weren’t happy?”
“No. Not for a long time.”
“What’s his name? What does he do?”
“I’m not telling you his name,” I snap. “He’s a businessman-successful and handsome,” I lie.
He sips his wine as he watches me, and I know he has something else on his mind.
“What?” I ask.
“Did you ever think about me?”
“Yes.” I smile softly. “Did you ever think about me?”
“I did, actually.” His eyes hold mine.
“What did you think about?”
A slow, sexy smile crosses his face.
“What?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“No, I do.” I smile. “Tell me.”
“I was thinking that you were probably the hottest sex I’d ever had.” His eyes drop to my lips.
The air crackles between us.
“And even now, every time I’m in a room with you, it’s as if my body takes on a need of its own.”
Time stops as we stare at each other.
He sips his wine in slow motion. “When I look at you . . . I have one thing on my mind,” he murmurs. “I can’t help it. It’s almost primal.”
Primal.
“It’s getting damn hard to control,” he whispers darkly.
Damn, this man is something else, but every warning signal is telling me to run away as fast as I can. If he can affect me the way he did after one night . . . what could two nights do?
Our eyes are locked, and arousal heats my blood. Suddenly I don’t want to play hard to get; I don’t care if we don’t know each other. I don’t care about the risks. He has something that I need . . . and damn it, I’m taking it without questions.
“We should order,” I whisper.
He opens the menu with a sense of urgency. “What do you want?”
“Whatever’s the quickest.”
An hour later, he pulls me up the sidewalk by the hand. “My car is parked around here.” He turns and takes me into his arms and aggressively kisses me, and I smile against his lips. The way we laughed and talked over dinner tonight reminded me of the Jim I remember, the man on the plane who was interested in everything about me and my life. As if he felt it, too, we nearly made out in the middle of a crowded restaurant. He’s not wrong; this attraction is insane.
“Hurry,” I whisper against his lips.
It’s one thing to go out to dinner with a gorgeous man-it’s another to imagine yourself under the table, sucking his dick the entire time.
I don’t know if it’s that he told me that I was the best sex he’s ever had, but . . . damn it, I want to blow his frigging mind. I’m desperate to get him naked. I want to be that girl he turned me into in Boston again. I’ve missed her.
We turn the corner, and I see the big black limousine parked by the curb. I stop still.
“What?” He frowns.
“The limo is here?”
“Yes. So?”
I stare at him for an extended moment.
He rolls his eyes and opens the back door. “Get in.”
I climb in, and within two seconds, he’s in the car and has me straddled over his lap with my dress up around my waist. The security screen is up, providing us with privacy. His cock is hard, and he grabs my hip bones and guides my sex back and forth over him as we kiss. His hands are on my behind and then trailing up and down my back as my body takes on a rhythm of its own.
His eyes are dark, and his fingers dip into my panties, and he slides them through my flesh. “Fuck,” he whispers. “I could blow just by feeling this beautiful, hot pussy.”
I begin to rock down on him with force, searching for a deeper connection, and his jaw hangs slack as he stares up at me. I don’t know what the hell kind of nympho pills someone slipped into my drink at dinner, but I find myself on the floor between his legs, and I unzip his jeans with force.
He hisses as I push him back into his seat and spread his legs aggressively.
Our eyes lock, and I lick the end of him and taste the preejaculate as it oozes from his head. He cups my face, and I take him deep down my throat as he clenches. “Fuck,” he growls in a whisper as his stomach contracts. “Fucking hell, Emily.”
I begin to fist him hard, and he lurches underneath me. He’s going to come.
I want him to come hard, quick . . . and unbridled. I need to own him tonight.
Pleasing him makes me feel good about myself, and this new version of Emily is someone I like. I want to keep her.
“Emily,” he growls as he grabs a handful of my hair. “We’re home.” He pushes the lock down on the door just before his driver tries to open it.
I scramble to the seat, and he zips his jeans up as we both pant, gasping for air.
What the hell? This man makes me an animal.
He turns to me and smirks as he fixes my hair. “Let’s just get to the apartment, shall we?” He kisses me tenderly; his lips linger over mine as we stare at each other.
“It’s good to see you again, Emily Foster,” he whispers.
I lick my lips as I climb back over to straddle him. “It’s good to taste you again, Jameson Miles.” I rock my sex over him, and he grabs my hip bones and holds me still.
“Stop,” he commands. “Stop now.”
I put my lips up to his ear. “I want you to blow your load in your car,” I whisper before biting him. “Fuck me right here.”
“Jesus Christ.” He pushes me off and opens the door in one swift movement, and the driver drops his head as he pretends not to know what we were doing in there.
“Thank you,” Jameson says as he pulls me out and marches into the building.
We get into the elevator, and the attendant stares straight ahead. I’m panting, dripping wet, and my sex is throbbing.
I’m a hot mess.
Jameson’s eyes are dark as he stares straight ahead at the closed doors.
God, I need him.
The doors open, and he pulls me out by the hand. Our lips are locked, and he walks me into his apartment backward. “Isn’t this how we got into the room last time?” I smile as he lifts me.
“Similar.”
He puts me down, and I look around, and my heart drops. “What the hell, Jim?” I whisper through shock.
“What?” He frowns.
“This is your house?” I ask as my eyes scan the room.