And the solution is Matt.
Allof Matt. I need him. On top of me. Beneath me. Inside me.
I need a release.
The only way I’m going to get that is if I can juststopthinking. Stop being so damn careful all the time.
There’s only one way to do that.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, his accent thick.
I glance back at Matt, his eyes locked on mine, watching me like a hawk.
I turn back to the bartender.
“Whiskey.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
MATT
Jordan pushes through the crowd,and a tinge of panic zips through me.
Did I upset her?
I pushed the line. I know I did.
It’s not like it’s coming out of thin air. I’ve always done this. It’s what we do. It’s meant to be fun, playful, teasing.
But after the other night?
I’m pushing my luck.
And this time, I’m secretly hoping she breaks. That we end this night exactly the way we used to: her moaning my name, wrecked, and breathless.
Just like old times.
Maybe that’s wrong of me. Maybe that makes me the bad guy. But I can live with that. Because I can’t stop thinking about her—and not just tonight.
Every night.
Every day.
Every goddamn minute.
But I also know her. She knows what she’s doing. I gave her my credit card, and she bought a lethal dose ofI want you to fuck me.
My gaze follows her. Not to the exit. Not to the restrooms. No—to the bar.
She glances back, and our eyes lock for a beat before she turns back around, saying something to the bartender.
I turn my attention back to Joel, one of the capital partners in this deal. I met him through Leo. He’s cool as hell, and we get along great. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to work with.
My focus pulls to Jordan again after a minute or two.
What the hell is she doing?
She ordered whiskey—an old-fashioned, one round ice cube in the center of the amber-colored liquid, an orange peel for garnish.
