“Gorgeous?”
“You know you’re gorgeous. That’s why I right-swiped you.”
I laughed. He didn’t smile, but his eyes did that sparking thing. I looked away. I tried to keep eating. “Billionaires use Tinder? Somehow, I doubt it.”
“We use executive matchmaking services, actually.”
“Do you really?”
“Yes. I mean, not me, personally. But so I’ve heard. I’m sure you knew that, though, since you’re the billionaire here.”
“Right. So, I’m really glad the matchmaker hooked us up. You are just my type.”
“Am I?” His eyes met mine over his wine glass.
“Oh, yeah. Built…” My gaze drifted over his shoulders. “Beautiful… And dumb as a stump.”
He laughed shortly. I didn’t think I’d ever heard him laugh like that before.
Did he actually laugh?
“I am pretty fucking dumb,” he admitted. “Had a little trouble getting my fly open earlier. Maybe you could help me with that later.”
“Oh, and he flirts like a dumb jock too. Delicious,” I said sarcastically.
“And is this the part where you move things along by asking me what I’m really thinking, and I blurt it right out like the dumb jock I am?”
“Yes. Absolutely. What are you thinking right now? I’m a busy woman. Don’t waste my time.”
“I’m thinking I’d like to bend you over, slide that dress up over your gorgeous hips, and lick you front to back.”
Ohhhh-kay.
I was pretty sure he actually meant that.
I crossed my legs as the flesh between my legs pulsed, trying to cover it as I leaned over my plate a little to continue eating.
“I might just let you do that,” I said, continuing on with the role-play. “Let me finish my dinner first.”
We ate, but he kept giving me sex eyes. I wasn’t sure where the ice demon had gone, but tonight, all Dane was exuding in my direction was smoldering heat. Undeniable sparks were flying between us, even when we weren’t speaking.
I wondered, as he looked at me, if he was still kinda hot from what we’d done last night. I mean, it was hot. But it wasn’t…everything. I wondered if he was impatient to fuck me. To conquer me that way. And if he’d still look at me with that heat in his eyes after he did.
And I realized… it was torturing me, too. The thought of what we’d done. The thought of what we didn’t do…
But we were still feeling each other out. We’d been very careful around each other, all day. Neither of us playing our hand, just reading the room.
I knew I didn’t trust him enough to fuck him. Yet.
Everything was a power play with this man.
But honestly, it was for me, too.
“Tell me,” he said, as he sat back in his chair, sipping his wine. “What would it take to get you there?”
“Bent over this table with my dress up around my hips?”
“Yes.”
