Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“What if I had plans?” she asks, and I know that she doesn’t because she’s asking.
“Do you?” I look over my shoulder as I open the door.
“I don’t make plans on the same day I fly in,” she says, and I want to laugh because I do the same. “So …”
“See you in three hours,” I say. “Dress casual.”
“If I say no?” She tilts her head to the side. I stand here, and I wonder if what I’m going to say next will scare her off. But with that look in her eyes, I can’t help it.
“If you say no, then we are just going to have to stay in and eat each other.” Her mouth opens. “I, for one, am famished.” I look around. “You’d look good lying on that table with my mouth buried between your legs.” I point at the table and smirk when I see her cheeks getting just a touch pink. “Fuck it, let’s just stay in.”
“I’ll be ready at seven,” she says, and I roll my lips. I’m about to close the door when I hear her call my name. “You might want to save room for dessert.” She gets up, walking to the door and grabbing it, pulling it open as my hand slides down. “I know I will,” she says before she closes the door in my face, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.
Chapter 13
Becca
My hand trembles as I tie the belt to my red wraparound dress. I look at myself in the mirror as I put on the red lipstick. I had about thirty minutes to get ready, and I took out the sexiest thing I brought with me. I didn’t think I would wear it because it’s a bit shorter than I’m used to, but it looks good with the thigh-high black boot stilettos. I turn to check and see how it looks from the back, and the gold heel from the shoe makes it even sexier. The sleeves are also long and flowy, and the silkiness to it makes it even feel sexy.
I make sure everything is in place when I hear a soft knock. “Here goes nothing,” I tell myself, turning off the light and grabbing my black purse. I pull open the door, and I know I made the best choice when I see that his mouth is hanging open. “I didn’t know where we were going,” I say to him.
“Is that a robe?” he asks, and I laugh. “Because it looks like a robe, and it looks like you shouldn’t wear that out.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Well, then I take it you approve.” I step out and stand in front of him. “You look good yourself,” I say, and to be honest, I haven’t even looked at what he’s wearing. “But I have to say.” I finally look at him and see he’s wearing tight black jeans with a charcoal button-down shirt. It’s open at the first two buttons, and I reach up, playing with his collar as my nail softly rubs his neck. “I’d prefer if you were naked.” I wink at him, and he puts his head back and groans.
“You, Becca,” he says, turning and grabbing my hand in his. “You,” he says, pushing the elevator call button. “You are going to be the death of me tonight.”
“But am I?” I ask as the elevator doors open, and we step in. “Do I need a coat?”
“No,” he says, pressing the button, and my heart is beating so fast I don’t even care where he takes me. He pulls me to his side, and I look up for a second, and it’s just enough time for him to kiss me again. My eyes close as I open my mouth, and he slides his tongue into my mouth. The ping of the elevator makes him leave my lips, and I hear him hissing. “Is that lipstick painted on you permanently?”
I laugh as we walk into the dimly lit room. “You know it’s smudge-proof, right?” I whisper in his ear. “I can do a lot of things with this lipstick on like.” I turn to look at him when he stops walking. “Drink wine or suck cock,” I say as if it’s natural to talk about cock in an elegant room like this. I see his eyes glare at me, and his jaw tightens. “You started this.”
“You know what that means, right?” he says to me. “I get to finish it.” The way he says that makes a shiver run right through my body
“Good evening,” the woman says when she comes back to the hostess table.
“Nico,” he says his name. “Suite 1114.”
“Right this way, Mr. Harrison,” she says, turning and leading us into the restaurant. It’s not busy tonight as half the tables are empty. I look up at the crystal chandeliers that are hanging and look so exquisite when they sparkle right over a huge ball of red roses. “Is this table to your liking?” She points at a round table in the back of the restaurant right beside the window.