undateable. Do you know how many women hate it when guys order for them?”
“I don’t order for girls, Sabrina. I said I’d order for you—key difference—because you don’t do a good job of ordering for yourself.”
She purses her lips and settles back in the seat.
“You can’t even deny it,” I say, feeling a smirk digging at my face.
“Tell me this. Why do you feel this insane need to go somewhere expensive on a first date?” she asks. “It’s nothing but pressure.”
“Hm. No one’s ever asked before.” I shrug. “It’s the experience that counts, and money often buys experience.”
“You’re dating the wrong women, Mag,” she says, rolling those chocolate silk eyes.
Not possible.
Frankly, I can’t remember the last time I dated anyone.
Soon, Armstrong pulls up to Brina’s apartment.
“That was a quick ride,” I say, sliding out so I can hold the door open for her. “I’ll walk you up.”
I know Wolf Boy wouldn’t have purely from the goodness of his heart.
She shifts the keys back and forth between her hands as we stand in front of her building’s main door. “I’m not thanking you for the ride after you interrupted my date, but...it could’ve been worse. I guess.”
Yeah.
I could’ve stolen you away and found somewhere dark to kiss until you moaned my name.
“It’s cold,” she says. “I’m going in.”
“Since I’m here, we might as well talk about your ideas for the airline project. The creative pitch with Hugo isn’t far off.”
She rolls her eyes. “Cool. Because there’s nothing I’d rather do on a Friday night.”
“Well, someone slipped out at four to go on a bad date. We’re usually still at the office right now.”
“Come on,” she says with a sigh.
An invitation. I’m shocked.
Once we’re upstairs and inside her apartment, I look around the place. Her décor is a weird mashup of cat posters and artsy images of sculpture parks.
“Would you like a glass of wine or are you happy gawking at how the little people live?” she asks.
I glance at the bottles on the counter, perched in a corner.
“How about something stronger? Bourbon?”
“That’s Paige’s stuff, and from the label, it looks expensive.”
“Paige?”
“My roommate.”
I take out a fifty and throw it on the counter. “Paige can have a whole new bottle as long as I get to drink from that one.”
She laughs. “I still feel like making you drink cheap wine just to prove the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mag.”
She pours her wine into a dainty glass.
“I’ll be less demanding with bourbon,” I tell her, clenching my teeth.
She takes out a glass four times the size of a shot, fills it, and hands it to me.
I can’t blame the liquor because I haven’t taken a drink yet, but the way that innocent, beautiful woman looks at me makes my blood roar.
Forget the airline talk.
I’m already in full flight, and it’s not just a bad fucking pun.
My entire body tingles below my waistline. It isn’t the bourbon I want. Seeing her with that college prick made me regret walking away after our stolen kiss in the Phoenix sunset.
Her chest rises and falls, and with each breath, her breasts bubble up against her crimson neckline and flutter down. Calling me. Taunting me.
They bob against her neckline again like they’re aching to be free.
My dick hurts, spiking this physical ache through my whole system, like a man deprived of what he needs most when it’s right in front of him.
I’m done with this torture.
Setting the glass on the counter, I close the space between us, dropping an arm around her waist. I steal her wine glass away with my other hand, and then before she knows what’s happening, I press my lips to hers so hard she moans, melting in my arms.
Fuck.
She tastes like cinnamon and red wine and everything I shouldn’t want.
Of course she does.
What little prayer I ever had of pulling away goes unanswered the second her leg winds around mine. Brina’s tongue flicks against my bottom lip.
A low, animal noise falls out of me like approaching thunder.
Snarling, I trace my finger over her neckline, just enough pressure to ease her top down.
I’ve developed a sudden hatred for her red dress when it’s concealing everything I want to ravage.
Thankfully, I don’t have to push much against the strained cloth to release one plump, warm tit into my palm, her nipple perked against my hand.
I break the kiss, suck in a harsh breath, and chuckle with lust.
“No bra?” I growl, drawing a circle around the edge of her areola, bringing my finger in closer