Only One Touch (Only One #4) - Natasha Madison Page 0,30
makes it even sexier. The sleeves are also long and flowy, and the silkiness to it makes it even feel sexy.
I make sure everything is in place when I hear a soft knock. “Here goes nothing,” I tell myself, turning off the light and grabbing my black purse. I pull open the door, and I know I made the best choice when I see that his mouth is hanging open. “I didn’t know where we were going,” I say to him.
“Is that a robe?” he asks, and I laugh. “Because it looks like a robe, and it looks like you shouldn’t wear that out.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Well, then I take it you approve.” I step out and stand in front of him. “You look good yourself,” I say, and to be honest, I haven’t even looked at what he’s wearing. “But I have to say.” I finally look at him and see he’s wearing tight black jeans with a charcoal button-down shirt. It’s open at the first two buttons, and I reach up, playing with his collar as my nail softly rubs his neck. “I’d prefer if you were naked.” I wink at him, and he puts his head back and groans.
“You, Becca,” he says, turning and grabbing my hand in his. “You,” he says, pushing the elevator call button. “You are going to be the death of me tonight.”
“But am I?” I ask as the elevator doors open, and we step in. “Do I need a coat?”
“No,” he says, pressing the button, and my heart is beating so fast I don’t even care where he takes me. He pulls me to his side, and I look up for a second, and it’s just enough time for him to kiss me again. My eyes close as I open my mouth, and he slides his tongue into my mouth. The ping of the elevator makes him leave my lips, and I hear him hissing. “Is that lipstick painted on you permanently?”
I laugh as we walk into the dimly lit room. “You know it’s smudge-proof, right?” I whisper in his ear. “I can do a lot of things with this lipstick on like.” I turn to look at him when he stops walking. “Drink wine or suck cock,” I say as if it’s natural to talk about cock in an elegant room like this. I see his eyes glare at me, and his jaw tightens. “You started this.”
“You know what that means, right?” he says to me. “I get to finish it.” The way he says that makes a shiver run right through my body
“Good evening,” the woman says when she comes back to the hostess table.
“Nico,” he says his name. “Suite 1114.”
“Right this way, Mr. Harrison,” she says, turning and leading us into the restaurant. It’s not busy tonight as half the tables are empty. I look up at the crystal chandeliers that are hanging and look so exquisite when they sparkle right over a huge ball of red roses. “Is this table to your liking?” She points at a round table in the back of the restaurant right beside the window.
“It’s fine,” I say for him when he looks back to see what I think. He pulls out one of the plush velvet gray chairs for me. “Thank you,” I say, sitting down in the chair. He sits next to me instead of across from me.
“Good evening,” the waiter says when he comes over and pours us glasses of water. “Can I get you a drink to start?”
“I’m going to have a scotch,” Nico says, and I look over at him.
“I’m going to have a bottle of wine.” He just looks at me. “I don’t work tomorrow.” He smirks as he looks up at the waiter.
“A bottle of your finest,” he says, and the waiter nods at us. “What happened to your two glass max?”
“I figured that this is already a bad idea,” I say, putting my hands in front of me. “This whole thing. It’s not the best idea.” He just looks at me, and I’m dying to know what that face means. I want to ask all the questions, but the waiter comes back with our drinks.
He pours me just a little wine, and the cold white wine slides right down. It’s crisp, smooth, and perfect. I nod at the waiter, and he fills my glass. I pick up my glass of wine. “To bad decisions.”