The Billionaire’s Girlfriend Bet - Leslie North Page 0,19
that’s not a bad idea after all those potatoes.”
Blake pushed to standing, offering his hand. “Yeah, potatoes push us to the dance floor, and the wine makes us better dancers.”
“Hey, speak for yourself. I’m a great dancer,” she teased.
“Are you? I should have figured. I’m crap. But it doesn’t matter.” He guided her away from the table, pulling her against him by the waist. “There’s no one else here to judge me.”
“Only me,” she said and laughed.
“Exactly. Only you.” He grinned down at her, heat rushing through him as he beheld the beautiful lines of her face. Now would be the perfect time to kiss her. And as he got lost in her blue eyes again, it was impossible not to tighten his arms around her. To get her beautiful body tucked up against him, her wine-fragrant breath hitting his chin.
“You’re a pretty good dancer,” she murmured after a little bit. “I won’t be judging you.”
“We’re only swaying,” he said. “Anyone can do it.”
“But you’re an exceptional swayer,” she countered.
“That’s sweet of you, to boost my swaying confidence. I’ll need more of that reassurance as I approach the dirty thirties,” he said.
Her eyes lit up. “Do you have a birthday coming up?”
“Next week,” he said. “Time for the big three-oh.”
She gasped. “Wow! You’re old, huh?”
He flattened his lips. “Watch it. And how old are you, madam?”
“Twenty-nine and holding,” she said.
“Uh-huh. You just wait. The thirties are coming for you too, and they won’t be gentle.”
“Honestly, I’m excited,” she said, her gaze drifting off. “My twenties have been pretty brutal. I’d like a new decade for a fresh start.”
Questions sprang to life inside him, but digging into a past she described as brutal didn’t seem like the most romantic move right now. “You’ll get your chance. We all do. I’m just trying to keep up my momentum.”
“Well, I think you’re off to a good start,” she said, tilting her head to one side as her gaze washed over his face. Whenever she did this—scrutinized him, but in a kind way, like she was giving him a stamp of approval with her gaze—it made his skin go goosepimply. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been seen so intensely before. “Youth team sponsor. Record label owner. Baseball team owner extraordinaire. What else?”
“Impossibly good swayer,” he added.
“Ahh, yes. How could I forget that? And nightclub entrepreneur, as if that needed to be mentioned, while we’re actually in your latest nightclub,” she said. “So what else is on the horizon for your thirties?”
“I don’t know. Maybe another team. Another label. More cars. I might pick up a hobby.”
She laughed. “What hobby?”
“Teach myself guitar, or calligraphy. Something random like that.”
“And what do you have planned for this milestone next week?”
“Nothing really. When I was a kid, my grandma would make me a pineapple upside down cake. It was my favorite. But she’s not around anymore, so I’ll probably order in and drink some scotch.”
Michelle’s face fell as she absent-mindedly stroked his shoulder. “Really? No plans?”
“I’m sure my friends and I will end up doing something.” He shrugged. “I’m not too worried.”
Michelle searched his face, and he squeezed his arms tighter around her. Words fell to the wayside as the two of them dipped deeper into this sweet moment. There was something very profound here, very intimate, and yet somehow familiar. Like they’d been here a thousand times already.
Truth was, he’d shared a lot more with Michelle than he ever had with anyone of the opposite sex. Normally he wouldn’t even go there, but with her, it felt okay.
She made everything feel okay.
He caught himself as he drifted closer to her, eager to press his lips to hers.
He knew where he wanted things to go between them…but the choice had to be hers. He felt guilty enough over the secrets he was keeping from her—he wouldn’t do anything to pressure her into a decision she might regret.
He just really hoped she’d make the choice that he so desperately craved.
6
Holy mother of sexual repression.
Michelle couldn’t think of anything except sex with Blake after their charged yet ultimately chaste dinner out at his nightclub. She’d thought the evening would go there so many times. From the moment he’d put his hand on the small of her back to when he’d wrapped himself around her and teased the kiss…
But no. And now, the following Tuesday, she was horny enough to drive herself up a wall. Worse than that? No amount of self-pleasure late at night in her bed helped.
She just needed