Cruel Fortune (Cruel #2)(27)

“Oh shit,” I said with a laugh. “I didn’t think I was this drunk. How strong were those martinis?”

Jane took another sip of hers, looking utterly unfazed. “Strong. As they should be.”

I blinked rapidly as I tried to get my legs to cooperate and then teetered toward the restroom. After seeing to my needs, I checked my phone, shocked to see that it was past midnight already. Time to go home. As much fun as it had been—and it had been more fun than I’d thought—if I wanted to make my seven thirty a.m. flight, then I needed to sleep off my impending hangover.

“Okay, I think I’m out,” I said with a laugh. “It’s late, and I have a crazy-early flight.”

“So soon?” Jane complained. “Come on. One more drink!”

“One more drink, and I’m going to black out,” I said with a laugh. I stumbled toward her and pulled her into a hug. “I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me out. I will see if I can make it up for the opening of your club.”

“Yes! You have to be there. Or you know, just move here.” Jane winked.

I laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Lewis had gotten to his feet and was slipping cash onto the bar. “Let me take you back to your hotel.”

“Oh…I can get a cab.” I took a step and nearly fell into him.

He smiled and caught me with ease. “Better safe than sorry, Miss Bishop.”

“Let him take you.” Jane flitted her hand. “I’ll be fine here. I have more convincing to do with Kendrick.”

“All right. That would be nice.”

Lewis took my hand and gentlemanly placed it on his elbow, and then he whisked me out of Tilted Glass. A black Mercedes appeared in front of us. Lewis held the door open for me, and I all but fell inside.

“I think I’m drunk,” I told him when he sank into the seat next to me.

He chuckled and brushed a stray strand of hair from my shoulder. “I noticed that.”

“I wasn’t going to invite you tonight.”

“Well, I’m glad that you did.”

My blue eyes met his dark depths. He was so fucking hot. It was ridiculous. How did they make the men on the Upper East Side? Was it just the outstanding wealth? Or were they somehow their own breed entirely?

“Why do you want this?” I muttered. A question I never would have had the guts to ask while sober.

His hand slid up into my hair, fingering the silver strands. “Because you are entirely you, unequivocally you. Fearless, stubborn, brazen, and strikingly independent. You say what you mean and mean what you say. There are no games with you. No questions about where your head is.”

“Right now, my head is spinning.”

He just grinned at me. “You want this, too.”

“Maybe,” I whispered.

“I can tell in the way your eyes find me and the soft pant in your breath as I hold you and the rise of your chest when I get near.”

His lips were nearly upon mine. And all those things he’d said weren’t wrong. I wanted to kiss him. Fuck, before, I’d never wanted to stop kissing him. Only my conscience had gotten in the way. And now…now, I’d left that with the second martini.

I pushed forward, capturing his lips. Yes, I wanted this.

My hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer, closer, closer. There was too much space. Not enough skin.

I dragged my leg over his and straddled him in the backseat of the car. His hands slipped down to my waist as our kisses turned even more feverish. Tongues tasting, testing, knowing. Lips urgent and aggressive. I could feel his thickness through the soft material of his suit pants. My core pulsed at the feel of him. Wantonness took over as my body awakened, yawning open and suddenly remembering in sharp clarity how good this all felt.

I reached for the buckle of his belt when his hand clamped around my wrist.

“Natalie,” he exhaled, leaning his forehead against mine.

“What?” I asked breathlessly.

“Not like this.”

“You don’t want to?”

He coughed a laugh. “Oh, I do. I really do. But…you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Not that much.” I knew it was a lie even as I said it.

He kissed me once more, soft and tempting. A kiss that left me aching for more.

“Too much,” he said. “I won’t take advantage of your inebriation. Move to New York, and we’ll have plenty of time.”

“Lewis,” I groaned.

“It’s selfish. I want you here. But, beyond that, it’s good for your career.” He pulled back to look me in the eyes. “At least tell me that you’ll consider.”

I sighed, giving in to that gaze and those lips and the red-hot desire still hitting me like a freight train. “I’ll consider it.”





Natalie





12





I didn’t move to New York, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Even as my sister, Melanie, and her douche boyfriend, Michael, argued in front of me as if I weren’t present. Or as Amy went about her normal routine in Montgomery Gallery as if she hadn’t had the most amazing weekend with Enzo. Or as I tried to act as if everything were back to normal.