The First Taste(49)

I turn around. “I wasn’t lying before—”

He holds two plates of cheesecake. “Swiped these from the dessert cart.”

I eye the cheesecake topped with raspberry sauce. “I really don’t feel well,” I say. “I’m sorry about the room. I’ll pay my half.”

He reads me like a book. “Bullshit,” he says. “Twenty minutes ago, I was f*cking your brains out. You feel fine.”

I flush, touching my hair. The back of my neck is clammy. “I’m still leaving.”

“What’s this about?” he asks. “Mindy? I told you, I was tricked into bringing her. I’m not interested.”

“It doesn’t matter if you are,” I say, drawing back. The edges of the award cut into my palm. “Even if I were jealous, I wouldn’t have any right to be.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and his concerned expression eases into a slow smile. He takes a step closer to me. I want to step back. I need to. But I don’t. “Are you?” he asks, his voice low, “jealous?”

I square my shoulders. “No.”

“You’re sure? Because I wouldn’t mind if you were. If you’d shown up with a date tonight, I would’ve been.”

He only says it to get me to go upstairs with him, yet it still makes me want to smile. “If that’s true, then I really do need to go home.”

“Nah. We’ve been intimate. It’s only natural we’d feel that way. It doesn’t mean it’s anything more.”

His masculine scent is strong—musky with a hint of sweat. Being near him, I can’t forget for very long how intimate we just were. I can see in his eyes, he believes what he’s saying. He wants me to be jealous. “It’s not about Mindy,” I say with a sigh. “I should’ve been here for the announcement. I don’t want to get distracted.”

“I understand.” He holds out the dessert like it’s some kind of party favor. I accept it, even though I know I won’t eat it. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy for me to come here tonight. It was a battle for me to get out of the house, a battle I would’ve been fine losing.”

I tilt my head. More often than not, I forget he has a young daughter at home. The word battle alone makes my head hurt. “You wanted to stay home?” I ask. “Isn’t it a treat to get a night away?”

“Not really.” He half-smiles. “Believe it or not, I like hanging out with my kid.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean—”

“Yes you did. It’s okay. To be honest, it’s kind of a relief that you’re not interested in Bell. A lot of the women I meet see her as a way to get to me.”

I shake my head. “I’m sure she’s . . . a nice child . . . but I assure you . . .” I don’t want to insult him by admitting I want nothing to do with his kid, so I change the subject. “If it was a battle you wanted to lose, why’d you come?”

“Sadie guilted me into it. And if I’m honest, I wanted to see you.”

He’s impossible to resist, but that isn’t the biggest problem. It’s that I don’t want to walk away. “I’m sorry. It’s just not the right time for me.”

“When will it be the right time?” he asks. “So I can put it on my calendar. See, I’ve got it in my head that we’re going to have one more night together.”

I lose the fight against my smile. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I need to focus on my career.”

“You said all this was bullshit.”

“It is, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t sort of . . . want to win.”

He takes the award from me. “Then I feel awful you missed it,” he says, deepening his voice. “Let me make it up to you. I made you some promises earlier I’d like to follow through with.”

I inhale deeply, dropping my eyes to his red tie. I haven’t forgotten. He wants me slow. Blinded. Anticipating his next move. “I’ve been blindfolded before,” I say. “I was too tense to enjoy it.”

“Amelia.”

I look back up at him.

“You’ll enjoy it.”

Without even a touch, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. The more I try to fight off the fantasy of what he’ll do to me for the next few hours, the harder my heart beats. His red tie turning my world black. His skilled hands making slow love to my body. “I can’t decide if you’re confident or cocky.”

“Let me prove myself.”

“You already have.”

“I’ll do it as many times as it takes.” He trails his eyes down my dress. I get the feeling he wants to touch me, but he doesn’t. “Come upstairs with me. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable enough to loosen up, and if I can’t get you to, I’ll relinquish my sex god license.”

Just when I think he can’t get any sexier, he makes me smile. “Doesn’t anyone ever say no to you?”

“And get away with it? Just Bell.” He surveys the lobby briefly. “Now, I left my garbage man uniform at home, but—”

I laugh and against my better judgment, walk past him to the elevator bank. “I love it when you talk dirty,” I call over my shoulder.