“Actually no. Inheriting that kind of money turned me into a spoiled brat. I didn’t know how to handle losing my dad. Or even how to uncomplicate how I loved and hated a person that was dead. I kind of went off the deep end. I made all kinds of awful decisions and mistakes and totally messed up my life. And then… after that, I went to culinary school.” He’d stilled. Totally froze. He was looking at me so intensely I thought I would burst into flames. “I had to live for something,” I told him in a strangled voice. “I needed a purpose. And I found it cooking.”
There was more silence as he let my words, my confession, my truth, settle into the air between us. I hadn’t told anyone that much in a long time. And hearing it out loud I realized what a small portion of the story I’d given up. But still, for me, it was a lot.
Too much.
He leaned closer, dropping his voice. We were so close I felt his breath on my lips and the warmth of his skin. “I think you’re amazing,” he whispered, raw honesty making his voice rough. “No matter how you got here, you have so much to be proud of. You’re not a spoiled brat anymore. You’re strong and resilient. You’re… breathtaking.”
I wasn’t totally sure who moved first or why that was the moment that ignited the fire between us . But as soon as he’d stopped talking, maybe even before, my lips were on his and my freshly bandaged hands were wrapped around his neck.
His mouth moved over mine with a voracious hunger, a man desperate and greedy for something he’d been deprived of.
God, he felt so good. So intensely right.
Our bodies mashed together as he kissed and kissed and kissed me. Our tongues tangled and our lips moved in a sexy rhythm, finding the perfect cadence of teeth and tongue and desire.
His hands landed on my hips tugging me more fully against him. We were lined up just perfectly. His waist to the apex of my thighs. I groaned at the sensation of him there, at the stark contrast of his masculine to my feminine.
I tightened my grip around his neck as he deepened the kiss. There was nothing tentative about his touch. Nothing nervous or timid. Memories of the night we slept together swam in my head with more clarity.
It wasn’t so much the exact detail I remembered, but his body over mine, his hands on my skin, the delicious way he tasted.
His hand moved up my rib cage and over my breast. His thumb brushed over my nipple and I shivered. He did it a second time, adding pressure and I broke the kiss as I gasped for breath.
He trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat and over my collarbone. I arched my back, pushing my breast into his hand, needing more of that wicked magic.
He laughed against the curve of my neck and tightened his hold on my nipple.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I panted, barely coherent. Barely stopping myself from ripping off my clothes and letting him take me on his desk.
“I know.” His voice was rough sandpaper, heavy with desire.
“I don’t make the best decisions when you—” He pinched my nipple again and I lost the ability to form sentences.
He tugged the strap of my dress off my shoulder, and then the top of my bra beneath my breast. His lips clamped around the same peak and I made a sound I had never made before. “I think you should go to dinner with me,” he said around a mouthful.
“Wh-what?”
He lifted his head, his eyelids heavy and low. Sex was written all over his face. Sex and seduction and passion.
And it was working.
It had been a ridiculously long time since I’d been with a guy outside the rehearsal dinner with this particular guy. I’d had a lot of bad dates. I danced at parties and weddings and went out with my friends, but no guy ever came home with me. I put on this big show so nobody would realize I was totally celibate.
But now, with the air cooling the place where Vann’s mouth had just been, I realized how alone I’d been. How incredibly lonely.
How isolated I’d made myself.
“Dinner,” he repeated. “Or brunch. Or whenever you have time. I think we should try it.”
“You’re not into good girls anymore, remember?”
“And you’re not into anything serious, remember?” He leaned forward and stole a quick kiss. I didn’t pull away. In fact, I followed after him hoping for more. His head dipped so that his lips were at my ear. “Go out with me, Dillon. Let’s see how good this is.”
“What if it goes badly?”
More of that rumbly laughter. “What if it’s the best thing that has ever happened to either of us?”
I pulled back so that he was forced to look me in the eyes again. “I don’t do this,” I told him, gesturing between us. “I don’t sleep with guys or make out with them in the middle of the day. I know I seem happy go lucky, but I’m careful about who I let in.”
