Entry-Level Mistress - By Sabrina Darby Page 0,9

could be Romeo and Juliet. But that’s not this story.”

The ice cream slowly melted in its silver cup as I waited for him to say something. The air was thick between us. I wondered if he was as physically aware of me as I was of him. My body fairly brimmed with that awareness.

“Daniel,” I whispered, needing him to say something. I watched the emotions that crossed his face—or, more accurately, the flicker into an absence of emotion as he hid everything from me.

He straightened his spoon where it rested against the white tablecloth. Tension ramped up inside me.

Finally, his lips parted.

“I’ll take you home.”

• • •

I felt the loss keenly. This whole little romantic escapade, in which I played at the high drama of a soap opera, was going to be over before it had even really begun. I didn’t know why. Clearly he’d known who I was the whole time, so why now, now that that proverbial elephant in the room had been discussed, was he no longer interested? And how on earth was I supposed to take revenge against a man who wouldn’t even play the game? I clung to that desperate thought as I shivered on the sidewalk.

June still had the last cool breeze of spring. Lacking the heat of his gaze, in the thin purple dress, I was trembling. I’d hand in my resignation Monday. Maybe even leave Boston as I’d always planned to. The fellowship didn’t start until August but there were myriad other opportunities.

But only two hours earlier we’d been sitting so close in his car and I’d delved inside him, his body mine to touch this night, anything possible. Now, we stood silently, side by side, waiting for his car—as if he were an absolute stranger.

Which he was.

I stepped backward to rest against the wall and stumbled a bit in my heels. He steadied me quickly, as if he’d been watching me attentively rather than studiously ignoring me. I knew then that I was still a bit loose, languid from the wine, or his hands wouldn’t have felt like they were burning my skin.

I leaned against the wall and looked up at him. Our eyes met and he stood motionless, his bare skin still on mine.

“My curiosity has not been satisfied, Daniel,” I said, wondering at the words, at my voice sounding them, but I liked the effect. All that distance seemed to evaporate.

He watched me with this wary expression and I wanted to see it turn to that other one, that subtle intensity, once more. Forget subtle, I wanted it all.

“You said you were going to kiss me tonight.”

“That was before.” His voice was low, almost a growl. I loved the animalistic sound of it.

“I don’t think a single thing has changed, other than you know that I know that you know … ” I let my words drift off into that slanted smile.

His right hand ran up my arm, sensation coursing through me in its wake, as did a triumphant surge of excitement. And then, in a gesture I’d only before read about, he cupped my face, his thumb tracing the outline of my jaw.

“You’re right. I said I was going to kiss you.”

It felt good to be held there by him, enveloped by his heat.

My eyelashes flickered. I focused on the appetizing curve of his lower lip. Which was closer and closer.

“So you did,” I said on a breath, just before … before I wasn’t thinking anymore.

Soft. Hot. Curves, tongue, heat spreading. The wall and his arms were supporting me, and his body pressed more firmly against mine. I wanted to wrap my legs around him, feel him between my thighs. I wanted—

I stumbled slightly at the sudden release, the chill breeze, the need to support my own weight.

“The car’s here.” His voice was deep, gravelly, and when I looked at him, the expression in his eyes scorched me.

He opened the door for me and I slid in, breathing in the scent of leather in the silence before he rounded the car and joined me inside. I scooted closer to him, lifted my face toward his. The touch of his lips was deliciously sharp, striking me deep, waking every inch of my skin. I drank him up like he was the glass of water I should have had with my wine. Delicious and endless and I wanted more.

Then he broke away and gently held me back. “I’m still taking you back to your place.” I didn’t like that, but