that morning, I wanted to make an impression. If I had known who it revolved around, I would have shown up in sweats. Or maybe a one piece, full body set of pajamas. Something that screamed, “I’m so not sexy.”
I took a deep breath as my hand twisted the doorknob. I didn’t know what to expect. I mean, I wasn’t worried about this turning into a complete disaster. If that would have been a probability, it would have happened within the first five minutes. That’s what I told myself at least.
The TV was on and I could see the back of his head as I stopped against the bar in the kitchen. The inside of the apartment was much dimmer, proven that I’d hid out in my room longer than I’d intended. Then my stomach growled.
“Are you hungry?” My eyes shot to the back of his head. He was still sitting on the couch, keeping his distance. I hated and loved that all at once.
“Umm,” I stuttered.
“It’s a simple question which only requires a yes or no answer.” He clicked the TV off and made his way toward me, strutting. Why did strutting have to be so hot? I didn’t answer him right away. I was far too busy watching him strut…and him smirking at the fact that I was staring. “I know you like to overthink things,” he said stopping in front of me.
I swallowed hard as he lightly touched my face. “No, I don’t,” I said, my voice barely audible.
“Yes, you do. Or have you already forgotten about the first time you let me touch you?” He bit his lip, making me want to bite it myself. The way he said that had my insides tumbling at his silent promise of more to come.
“Yes,” I breathed out causing him to cock a brow at me. “Yes, I’m hungry,” I clarified.
His smile grew as he realized that:
A. I hadn’t forgotten about two nights ago.
B. He was able to shut my second guessing mind up.
I kept my smile hidden at the fact that it was only going to:
C. Cause me to lose myself, even more so this time, with a porn star.
But then I remembered. He wasn’t back at it just yet. So, if it were to happen, during that week would be the best time. Because it definitely wouldn’t once the time we were there together ended.
He stepped back, offering his hand out to me. I took it and damn near melted. “I don’t think we’ve officially met,” he smirked again. That smirk was going to be the death of me or life of me. I wasn’t quite sure. “Brent Nichols.”
I shook his hand, letting his name play around in my head momentarily. I could hear it all too clearly. Thoughts of me moaning it as he touched me, tasted me, and filled me overwhelmed my mind. I quickly shook his hand, needing to break the closeness and get the hell out of that apartment ASAP.
“Lucy Rogers.” I tried to drop his hand, to break the contact, but before I could, he was raising my hand up to his mouth. His perfect mouth. And staring at me with his gaze locking hazel eyes. He held my stare as he placed a kiss on my hand, never looking away.
Damn him. He was a porn star and a Casanova.
“ After you .” He held his arm out for me to lead the way. I felt the heat as his hand lingered at the mid of my back, but never fully pressing against my cotton shirt.
Nerves hit me as we stood waiting for the elevator. I’d read way too many books to be riding an elevator with a hot man. Especially one that my body seemed to still be craving. I wasn’t sure if I should pray for an empty elevator, knowing that could play out two ways:
1. Me being able to stand on the complete opposite wall away from him or
2. Him taking advantage of me in the close proximity
I knew if I was close enough for him to put the moves on me, or hell even his words on me that my self-strength I’d claimed victory over the past years would crumble in defeat.
The door dinged and slowly opened to a crowded elevator.
“I’ll just take the next one.” I began to look around, “Or the stairs.”
“Come on, scaredy-cat. I don’t bite.” He grabbed
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