Billion Dollar Stranger - Stephanie Brother Page 0,5

drink to that,” the stranger says and downs his half-finished drink, pushing the empty glass along the table and reaching for the second. “What shall we drink to now?” He moves his leg ever so slightly, easing mine apart under the table, and I shudder as the air hits the bare skin on the inside of my thighs. He nudges my drink toward me with the back of his hand and holds his glass, waiting for my response.

“To something worth remembering,” I say, looking at my drink before finishing it in one gulp. He pauses, his eyes suddenly darker, and does the same. I know I’m playing with fire, but the frisson of nerves that runs up my spine and over my scalp makes me feel wild. I know I’m provoking him, but it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels dark and exciting, like licorice on my tongue.

I want to know what’s in his glass, to taste what he tastes as he seduces me with his words, presence, and actions. “I’ll have one of those,” I say, and he nods, rising again to go to the bar and returning with a matching pair of amber-filled glasses. I bring it to my nose, smelling the rich aroma of whiskey that I know will burn all the way to my stomach. I want to feel the heat, hoping it’ll distract from the strange feeling that is growing low in my belly the longer I look at him. When I drink, the heat makes me gasp, and he grins.

The first smile to grace his lips is breathtaking.

“That noise you just made is something for me to remember.”

I feel a flush rise to my cheeks, and his eyes sparkle as though the sight of my embarrassment fills him with joy. Or maybe it’s not joy. Maybe it’s the wicked thrill of control.

Under the table, his feet push in between mine and very slowly ease them apart again. All the while, he holds my gaze, watching my mouth as my lips part with my thighs.

The alcohol is making its way into my bloodstream, but I’m not so drunk that I don’t know what I’m doing. He hasn’t told me his name, but I know what his mouth will taste like if I slip my tongue inside it, and the thought of it makes me want to moan.

Loneliness has the power to make us stupid. It reminds us that we’re not complete. It reminds us that we need others to sustain our happiness.

This man isn’t offering happiness, I’m pretty clear about that, but maybe he’s offering me something better. Maybe he can be the man to wipe away the stain that Jonathan left behind. Maybe he’ll help me regain control of the way I feel about sex and love and everything in between.

The bar is gradually filling up with people seeking pre-dinner or after-work drinks. The stranger leans forward. “Would you like me to give you something to remember?” he says, low and deep.

It’s a simple question, but the intention behind it is so loaded that I feel my clit pulse and my pussy tighten.

The sensible thing is to say no.

The sensible thing is to walk away, return to my room, and go to sleep so that I’m ready for my meeting tomorrow.

Yesterday, I would have been sensible Nicole.

But today, I’m far from wanting to be sensible.

4

NICOLE

I feel numb inside, and strangely reckless as I realize that I have so little to lose and so much to gain.

The fates have put me in a booth with a beautiful stranger who’s already managed to spread my legs and make me forget my troubles.

Who am I to argue?

“Yes,” I say in a breathy voice that is almost lost to the background noise. I do want him to give me something to remember. Desperately.

I wish I could sound more certain. I wish I were the kind of woman who could be confident in her wants and needs. If I’m on a journey, then I really am taking the first tentative step. Maybe my next step will be more certain? In response, his smile is devilishly sexy, and he reaches across the table for my arm and holds his finger to my wrist. The skin there is so thin and sensitive, the blood rushing so close to the surface of my body. Maybe he wants to feel the racing of my pulse. Maybe he gets off on the fact that my heart is fluttering like a deer in a hunter’s sight.

His