Any Time, Any Place (Billionaire Builders #2)(54)
“Can I ask you a question that’s been bothering me for a while?”
He tried not to stiffen. Head whirling with the possibilities, he swore to tell her the truth, no matter how difficult. “Absolutely.”
“Do you whiten your teeth, or are they natural?”
He pulled back and stared down at her. The dancing glint of mischief in her dark eyes soothed him, promising she wasn’t ready to walk away, either. For now.
He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re a real brat.”
“So is that yes or no?”
He grabbed her and lifted her up in his arms, tickling her under her armpits until she yelled for mercy, half laughing and struggling for escape. He stopped it by kissing her deep and long. She clung to him and he was hard again in seconds.
“Did you wring me out of your system yet?” he asked.
She bit down on his earlobe. “Not yet. One more round?”
“I’m sure that will do it.”
chapter seventeen
She’d slept with Dalton Pierce.
Her once sworn enemy. The man she’d planned to spy on to retrieve information to better understand why her father had left. A man who was a well-known womanizer, noncommitter, and overall perfect antithesis of anyone she’d choose to get involved with.
God, it had been so damn good.
She tried to stop smiling as she prepped for poker night. After she’d spoken with numerous women inquiring about poker, one thing had become clear: most had no idea how to play. Though that shocked her to the core, since her father taught her cards when she was about eight years old and the stakes were Oreos, it didn’t make sense to open the games to everyone until the women knew how to play. She’d changed her original plan and decided to hold a training night on Monday, when the bar was officially closed. Over a dozen women signed up to learn, and Raven had whipped up a few different cocktails she needed feedback on. Once the women felt comfortable, she’d unveil regular poker nights on Wednesdays and be able to recruit more ladies. Then she’d open it up to mixed groups. Her vision included almost a Zootopia of perfection—men and women playing poker together in perfect harmony.
She’d always dreamed big.
Raven belted out a stanza by Nick Jonas, a familiar song from her time with Dalton. Her new appreciation for boy bands must remain a secret, but she was gloriously alone at My Place and could sing like no one was listening.
She wiped down the bar, and the images hit full force.
Dalton pressing her back, spreading her legs, thrusting in to fill her completely. The intense expression on his face as he claimed her, the bruising grip on her hips as he took what he needed, demanding she give him her orgasm again, and again, and again . . .
Ah, crap. He’d seared that memory into her brain forever. This bar would always carry the delicious secret of surrender, the shattering of her multiple climaxes, the aching tenderness when he held her afterward, worried she’d walk away.
She couldn’t. Not yet. Something had been forged between them. It had only been two nights ago, and they hadn’t seen each other since. He’d called and said Morgan needed him to track down a certain supplier, so he was in Vermont for a couple of days, trying to score a special order of Douglas fir at the warehouse. He spoke like he was making a billion-dollar deal, his voice hushed with respect for the material. He asked to see her after poker night, and she agreed. A man who disappeared the day after having sex for the first time was highly suspect. Raven waited for the slap of betrayal or anger to hit. Nothing did. Simply put, she believed him and didn’t need any special coddling or reassurances. She’d never experienced this rightness before with a man—as if they completely understood each other on a deeper level and didn’t need to steep themselves in endless analysis of each other’s moves.
Weird.
Though this thing between them was a mess of complications, she didn’t want to break it off yet. Soon. After all, their odd relationship had no future, and continuing it could just lead to disaster. He was also owed the truth, and she needed to tell him eventually.
Later.
The door pushed open. Morgan came in, dressed in her usual white, her blond bob swinging neatly above her shoulders. Sydney was at her side, a complete contrast with her fiery red curls and bright yellow shirt, green eyes sparkling with what seemed like anticipation. Raven had liked them from the very first night she’d served them, almost a year ago. They were fun, smart, and strong, the three ingredients Raven sought in a female friendship. She’d kept her distance only because of Morgan’s relationship with Cal, but time began eroding the barriers. She didn’t get to see Izzy much, since they were both so busy. It would be nice to make some new friends and hang out with Morgan and Sydney. Sometimes she just needed some girl time.
“Thank you for setting this up, Raven,” Morgan said, her white Chanel purse swinging on her arm. “I swear, y’all, I needed to get away from the buckets of testosterone. Tristan and Cal had a fight and began wrestling on the ground like toddlers, and knocked over the Waterford vase. I stomped out and swore there’d be no dinner for the next week, and then I had to deal with the puppy-dog eyes and the promises that they were only kidding.”
Sydney laughed. “I’m thrilled to escape watching Frozen for the billionth time. And I brought tons of singles!”