Page 3
The way he said it felt like a slow caress.
“Richard.”
His gaze traveled over her. Slow, appreciative, polite enough to get away with. “You look stunning.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself.”
His mouth curved. “I was hoping you’d notice.”
He held the door. She slid into the back seat. The door shut behind her.
Inside the Lincoln it felt like money and quiet luxury. Richard’s knee brushed hers as the car pulled away. The drive to Brentwood was filled with easy conversation and flirting.
When they arrived at his place, the iron gates opened. As the car rounded the last bend of the driveway, the huge mansion appeared ahead. Its light colored stone walls glowed under warm lights, showing off the elegant arched windows, tall rooflines, and grand front entrance. A lit fountain bubbled in the middle of the big circular driveway, with neat hedges, and flowers all around it. It looked impressive and elegant, like something from a movie. Jessica felt a wave of excitement as they got closer.
The driver slowed to a smooth stop right in front of the grand entrance. He stepped out first and opened Richard’s door. Richard came around the back of the car, his tall frame cutting a sharp silhouette against the mansion’s lights, and opened Jessica’s door. He extended his hand, and Jessica took it, feeling the warmth of his grip as he helped her out. Together they walked inside the mansion, her heels clicking softly on the stone path.
Inside, the foyer was enormous. It made her whole apartment feel tiny by comparison. Polished floors gleamed under a huge crystal chandelier that hung from the high ceiling. A big curved staircase with fancy railings swept upward on one side. The air carried the scent of cedar, old leather, and something delicious cooking nearby. Soft lights glowed from the walls, and every detail looked spotless and very expensive.
“Richard, this place is incredible,” Jessica said softly as they moved through the foyer. He smiled and kept her hand in his, leading her toward the dining room.
Dinner was in a formal dining room that could seat twelve, but only two places were set side by side at one end of the long mahogany table. Candles flickered between them, casting warm, intimate light across the polished wood. A bottle of red wine sat beside the silverware, the deep burgundy glow reflecting in the crystal glasses.
Classical music played softly in the background as Richard pulled out her seat for her. It was Chopin, the gentle notes of Nocturnes filling the room with quiet elegance.
Richard excused himself briefly and returned from the kitchen carrying their plates. The steak was perfect, medium-rare and seasoned just right. Richard carved his steak, his gray eyes catching the candlelight as he served her first. Their conversation flowed easily, but the sexual tension between them thickened with every glance.
“You know,” he said, leaning forward slightly as he refilled her glass, his fingers brushing hers on the stem, “I have not been able to stop thinking about you since that first date. The way you laugh. The way you talk. It’s rare to meet someone who actually holds my attention.”
Jessica felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Flattery already? We haven’t even finished the first course.”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true.” His voice dropped lower. “And I find myself wondering what else about you might hold my attention tonight.”
She took a slow sip of wine, meeting his gaze over the rim. “Careful, Richard. Keep talking like that and I might forget to behave myself.”
His smile turned wicked. “Who said I wanted you to behave?”
The tension crackled. His foot brushed hers under the table, lingering just long enough to send a spark up her leg. She didn’t pull away. Instead she crossed her legs, letting her calf rest against his for a moment.
By the time they reached the third glass she was laughing too loud at his stories, leaning in closer, her hand occasionally grazing his arm. He told her about a disastrous date he had gone on a few months back, where the woman spent the entire dinner loudly correcting the waiter on the pronunciation of every French dish. His eyes stayed locked on Jessica’s mouth the whole time he spoke.
“You’re making that up,” she said, biting her lip.
“I wish.” He reached across the table and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb grazing her cheek. “People do desperate things to seem important. But you don’t have to try at all, Jessica. You already are.”
The words made heat bloom low in her belly. She felt reckless, horny and desired. “You’re too charming, you know that?”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” His gaze dipped to her neckline, then back to her eyes. “I already know exactly what I am. The question is whether you’re ready to find out.”
Emboldened by the wine and the heat between them, Jessica slid her hand beneath the table and let it rest on his thigh. She trailed her fingers higher, bolder, until she found the hard, straining outline of his cock pressing against his pants. Her eyes widened. He was long and thick, filling her palm with insistent heat even through the fabric.
Marcy was definitely wrong about the micro-penis, she thought, a rush of nervous excitement flooding her.
Richard smirked, dark satisfaction flashing in his eyes as he slowly stood up, forcing her hand to slip away. He cleared the plates with that same controlled grace. “I’ll go get us another bottle.”
Jessica’s eyes followed him as he walked away, her lips curving into a smirk while a deep blush heated her cheeks. She was instantly wet at the thought of how it would feel to have Richard inside her, stretching her, filling her completely.
She reached into her purse, pulled out her compact and lipstick, and touched up her lips, still smirking at her reflection, her body buzzing from the charged exchange.
