* * *
The next few days eventually fly by. I’m preoccupied with looming deadlines at work, and before I know it, it’s Wednesday evening. With little time to spare, I take a quick shower, shave, and pick out an outfit without hesitation: a dark blue suit paired with a crisp white shirt. I leave the top two buttons undone. It’s a classic, professional look with a relaxed edge.
I decide to walk since the weather is nice and the restaurant is only a five-minute walk from B-Tech. One of the perks of living in the city is that everything is close by. As I near the restaurant, I see Nora walking in my direction. She’s wearing black high heels, a dark gray pencil skirt, and a white lace blouse with long puff sleeves and a small stand-up collar. She looks absolutely delectable. This outfit accentuates all her delicious curves. No woman I’ve ever shared a bed with can match her class. More than before, she now exudes authority and confidence. Watching her sway her hips as she walks toward me unleashes a primal desire in me. The attraction she exerts on me is so immense that I’m glad I made the selfish choice to stop fighting it. Denying or resisting is pointless. The need to claim her is animalistic, and I can’t wait for her to surrender to me. If I can get her to come home with me tonight, maybe I can finally get her out of my system. It’s been far too long since I last felt a woman’s touch, and a man has his needs. If she feels the same way and I can get her into my bed, perhaps I can rid myself of this unbearable tension and frustration. I feel my cock stir and urge it to calm down and be patient.
I don’t even know how Nora feels about me after our kiss last week. Is she angry? In her messages, she certainly didn’t sound upset. Will she keep resisting me, even though her body clearly wants the same as I do? And how will she react when she realizes that Bertrand is watching Club Brugge vs. Real Madrid with my VIP tickets tonight and she’s here alone with me?
Nora looks up and sees me standing there. She greets me with a friendly smile—already a hopeful sign. As I continue watching her, unable to hide my admiration, she covers the last thirty meters with slightly less confidence. She glances down, and I notice a flush rising in her cheeks. I’d bet my company we’re on the same wavelength regarding what’s running through our minds. She bridges the final steps under my approving gaze before meeting my eyes again. Sparks fly—this woman never fails to ignite something in me.
“Good evening, Nora. You look absolutely stunning tonight,” I say enthusiastically.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” She laughs.
She’s so beautiful when she laughs. For a moment, I hesitate. My motives are selfish; Nora is the opposite. Do I have the right to drag her into my messed-up world, even if it’s just for a little while? I can’t finish my thought because Nora asks if we should go inside or if we’re still waiting for Bertrand.
“Bertrand is not coming tonight; I’ve reserved a table for two,” I reply as casually as possible. Nora looks predictably confused.
“What do you mean? Bertrand is the reason we’re here tonight; he wanted to see us and thank us for the sale. I don’t get it. Is he sick?” she asks, puzzled.
“He’s not sick. He’s at the Club Brugge game with his kids tonight. I gave him VIP tickets.” I can barely hold back a grin.
“But why would you ... Oh.”
She doesn’t finish her sentence and looks at me with big, stern eyes. The penny has dropped, but I see the gears still turning in her head.
Not good.
“I wanted to see you again, Nora, just you and me. I was never planning on sharing you with Bertrand,” I say firmly, my voice leaving no room for doubt.
“Share me with Bertrand?” she asks incredulously. “Andreas, this was supposed to be a business dinner with business discussions—what’s there to share? Did you even consider whether I’d be okay with this or not? For me, meeting Bertrand was an important networking opportunity. You can’t just decide that for me.” She speaks quickly, irritation clear in her voice.
This woman is truly a challenge. I thought she’d be pleased. Flattered, even. But no. Not at all.
“You’ll still get your chance to meet Bertrand, and honesty compels me to admit that I’m a selfish man, Nora. I’m not in the mood for business dinners.” I might as well not beat around the bush. It’s now or never.
“Selfish, indeed. And here you are, playing games with me again, just like last time. I thought you might have learned from your mistakes, Andreas, but apparently, I judged you correctly the first time,” she fires back, her tone sharp. Now she’s really on a roll.
Her flushed cheeks tell a different story now. She’s genuinely angry. She runs her hand through her hair and looks around as if searching for the quickest escape route. The radiant smile she greeted me with has vanished, replaced by the rapid construction of walls around her. She’s incredibly sexy when she’s mad, but things are heading in the wrong direction. I’ve scared her off. Again. I don’t want her to run, but on the other hand, she might as well face the fact that selfishness and desire are my driving forces.
I would never intentionally hurt her, and I’m not playing a cruel game with her, but I’m not a man she can rely on. We’d better clear up that possible misconception right away. She drives me crazy, and I want her—it’s as simple as that. I’m not promising roses and moonlight, no ring on her finger, no happily ever after. As long as I don’t pretend otherwise, she can’t hold it against me.
“Nora, if I’m allowed to play games with you, you can bet they’ll be of a different nature. I’m asking for nothing more than a dinner together, just the two of us. I’m not going to apologize for my tactics. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. You’re a grown woman, so if you don’t want this, you say no now, and I’ll take you home. The choice is yours.”
I’ve always been good at poker, but this time, I’m not so sure about my bluff. Nora studies me, tilts her head slightly, and I can see the gears turning in her head again.
"What you mean is you didn’t want to leave anything up to me," she counters sharply. "It’s 2024, Andreas. If you want to ask a woman out, you ask her,” she retorts sharply.
With her chin held high, knowing she’s won this round, she walks ahead of me and opens the restaurant door. Without her noticing, I let out a sigh of relief. She’s not saying no. I knew it.
Normally, I’d hold the door open for her, but this time, I let her do it herself—after all, it’s 2024. The instinct that makes me stare at her delicious ass as she walks ahead of me, however, comes from a completely different era.
Chapter 7
Nora
I’ve never met a man like Andreas. So straightforward, so unabashedly clear about what he wants, so infuriating and honest at the same time. So full of testosterone. He intrigues me; I couldn’t say no. Even if I wanted to, my body was screaming yes. I bet my panties have been damp since he made that remark about playing games. At that moment, I wanted to slap him out of sheer frustration, but I also wanted him to play with me. Something tells me he knows how it’s done, and I can barely remember what it even feels like. I still can’t believe a man like Andreas wants me, finds me attractive, and has been plotting to see me.
It’s all too good to be true and yet I can’t seem to say no to him. He reminds me of a predator bird circling lazily above its prey. I know he wants to catch me. I know he only wants one thing, and I know I should run while I still can. Yet here I am, sitting still, waiting for him to devour me. It’s so wrong to yearn for the predator; it never ends well for the prey. Compared to Andreas, David was a harmless dove, and even he managed to destroy me.
