Seduce Me - J. Kenner Page 0,8
men in hotel bars.”
“No? I’m not a strange man.”
“Too bad.” Jamie’s voice holds as much heat as a small nuclear reactor. “I like strange.”
She slides off the stool. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she says politely. “I need to go to the ladies room.” She glances at me, her expression playful. “I’ll be right back.”
She walks away, and Ryan is left sitting alone at the bar.
“She’s very particular about the men she dates,” I say. “And she’ll only fall for a truly spectacular guy.”
Humor flashes in his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He inclines his head, then leaves. I take another sip of my drink and plan to tell Jamie that we really need to move on to food. Too many drinks and too little solid food is starting to mess with my head.
As I’m thinking about my increasing state of inebriation, someone moves up behind me. I know without turning that it is Damien, and when he asks, “Is this seat taken?” his low, familiar voice sends shivers through me.
“I suppose it is now,” I say as he sits.
I turn to find him looking at me, his dark eyes burning with so much desire that it whips in fiery swirls all through me. I raise my glass, then take a sip. Frankly, I need it to cool down.
“I was hoping that drink would buy me an introduction.”
I extend my hand. “Nikki Fairchild.”
He takes it, and despite every way that he has touched me, this simple brush of palm against palm sends shock waves skittering all through me. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Fairchild.”
I pull my hand away, feeling strangely unsettled. I want to play this game. And that means keeping my cool.
“Why did you want to buy an introduction?”
“I was hoping you’d have dinner with me.”
“Were you?” I run my finger along the rim of my glass, my eyes never leaving his. “Why?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Because I was hoping you’d spend a few hours after dinner with me.”
He reaches for the toothpick in my drink, then lifts it to his mouth, casually biting off the olive.
He has, I think, an absolutely perfect mouth.
“Ms. Fairchild?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “You have me at a disadvantage. Mr….?”
“Stark,” he says. “Damien Stark.” I like the way he says his name. He says it as though it belongs to me.
I put on one of my plastic smiles, the kind I practiced in my pageant days. “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Stark.”
“Should I be flattered?”
“Tennis player. Entrepreneur. Womanizer?” I say the last as a question.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Apparently I have quite the reputation.”
He’s put the toothpick on a napkin on the bar. Now I pick it up and brush it lightly over my lower lip, gratified when I see his gaze dip to my mouth. “Are you denying it?” I ask.
“Not at all. I’ve fucked a lot of women in my life, Ms. Fairchild.”
“Oh.” I lick my lips. “And do you want to fuck me, too?”
“Desperately. That, and so much more.”
It takes a superhuman amount of effort, but I manage not to squirm. I am, however, hopelessly wet. And I’m quite sure that Damien knows it.
I draw a breath, gather myself, and look deep into those dual-colored eyes. “I’m not interested in being one of many, Mr. Stark.”
“And any man who thought of you that way would be a fool. I’m not a fool, Ms. Fairchild.” He takes my hand and presses light kisses against it, and it is as if coils of pleasure shoot straight from my fingertips all the way to my clit.
I can’t help it, I actually moan. And when I do, I see victory dance in his eyes.
Bastard.
“About dinner,” he says, trailing a fingertip lazily over my palm and driving me just a tiny bit crazy. “You still haven’t answered.”
I tug my hand away, then mourn the loss of contact.
“Sorry,” I say. “I have plans with my friend.”
His eyes narrow. “I don’t believe you do.” He nods, indicating something over my shoulder.
I turn, then see Jamie walking away from the bar with Ryan’s arm around her waist. I stifle a laugh. Even when we’re playing at seduction, Jamie is quick to jump into a man’s bed. But what the hell. With Ryan at least, it’s as safe as it gets.
I, however, am enjoying the chase too much to give in.
I reach into my purse and put a fifty dollar bill on the bar before sliding off my stool. “I barely know you, Mr. Stark, and it’s been a