Stuck-Up Suit - Vi Keeland Page 0,24

couldn’t trust myself. Any little bit of contact might have pushed me over the edge. It was bad enough I thought about him all day and pleasured myself to images of him at night. For all I knew, the second I gave in, he would be gone. And I didn’t want this to end. I loved the excitement of wondering what he’d say or do, wondering what would happen next. I couldn’t risk giving in too soon and losing this feeling…or losing him. I hated that a part of me still felt like he might disappear once we slept together.

Nevertheless, I was prepared for it whenever it might happen because I didn’t really trust myself around him. Even though I vowed not to have sex with him yet, I made sure my legs were shaved and that I was wearing the laciest lingerie I had. I also made sure my birth control was up to date.

I poured orange juice and rum into the punch bowl that sat atop the buffet table we’d set up in the tattoo shop. Delia had hung up festive red Christmas lights as decorations even though it wasn’t the holidays. Bob Marley was playing while she set out some appetizers. Tig was still working on the last customer in the back before closing for the party. A makeshift bar was stationed in the corner with our friend, Leroy, serving as both the bartender and DJ.

Butterflies swarmed in my stomach at the thought of Graham meeting my friends. I couldn’t imagine him walking in here with his million-dollar suit, though. That was going to be a funny sight. I hoped that Tig and Delia didn’t think I was crazy for bringing him here. They were already wary of him because of my initial descriptions of his glowing personality. It had been hard to backtrack and explain to them why I was suddenly enamored with Mr. Big Prick. They still called him by that name.

Checking my phone incessantly, I noticed that Graham was about five minutes late. People were starting to arrive, but he was all I could think about. I decided to distract myself by putting out some candy. That was when I heard Delia’s voice. “Please tell me that Clark Kent hottie who just walked in isn’t Mr. Big Prick, because I might have to fight you for him.”

My heart started beating out of control at the sight of Graham in the doorway.

Oh. My. God.

He was dressed nothing like I’d ever seen before. There was no suit. Instead, he was wearing a black polo shirt that fit his chest like a glove made for pectoral muscles along with a pair of dark jeans. His hair was slicked back off to the side in a way that made him look younger. And he was wearing glasses. God, the bespectacled look really worked for him. It worked for me. A little too much.

My body reacted more with every step he took toward me, the punch of his signature scent nearly knocking the wind out of me. While I had been trying to restrain myself, Graham pulled me into an easy hug and buried his mouth in my neck.

“I missed you so fucking much, Soraya.”

The strained sound of his words against my skin were enough to do me in. The night hadn’t even started, and my panties were already wet. I was ready to pull him into a supply closet.

Jesus. Grab a hold of yourself.

Graham’s brown eyes were searing into mine from beneath the lenses. They trailed down to my cleavage and back up again. I had dyed the ends of my hair purple and wore a similar color dress to match. He took a fistful of strands and gently tugged, whispering seductively in my ear, “Purple, huh?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes.”

“You told me the red signified anger. What does the purple mean?”

“What’s with the glasses?”

“Answer me first.”

“Purple represents confusion or a dilemma.”

He smirked. “I see.”

“So, why the glasses?”

“Honestly, I haven’t slept well. I’ve been worried about you but trying to give you space. When I don’t get my sleep, my eyes dry up. The glasses are more comfortable than contacts.”

We stood there gazing into each other’s eyes for nearly a full minute before Delia interrupted our moment.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Big Prick…”

Crap.

Graham’s eyes widened as he offered her his hand before looking at me with an amused expression. “I guess my reputation has preceded me. I’ll choose to believe that Soraya came up with that nickname based