In the end, he decided to go with the truth simply because he couldn’t come up with anything else. “I will admit to being…intrigued by you…of wishing to see you again.”
“Why?” she immediately asked on top of his confession. She wielded her voice like a large blunt instrument. “So you could fuck me?”
“Yes,” he answered. The word was simple. But all the feelings behind it were not.
Yes, he wanted her right now. Yes, he wanted her from the first moment he saw her. And every day in between. Inside he churned with the want of her.
Outside, he simply declared, “As a Dragon, I’ve become unused to not getting what I want. When I don’t, it doesn’t…sit right with me as the idiom goes.”
“Obviously,” she said with a pointed look toward the chair his original date had abandoned. She then returned her eyes to him to say. “You could have texted. Could have flirted. Could have ended up here with me in the non-asshole way like Faizan did. But you don’t do that with women, do you? You don’t try.”
She picked up the glass of wine he’d ordered for Lana and shook her head. “You don’t force women, and you don’t touch prostitutes. But you treat the women you date like pros anyway—like they’re disposable.”
“Because they are,” Han answered, taking a page from her plain-speaking book.
“So basically, I’m like a clog in your system. You don’t know what to do with me because in your world, women are only there to fuck or be fucked. And I’m just walking around, doing my own thing. Thoroughly unfucked by the great Han Zhiwei.”
It was true. All of it was true. Yet, he didn’t like hearing this crass assessment of him from her mouth.
But if she’d sensed that as she’d sensed so many other truths about him, she didn’t appear to care. “Am I right?” she demanded.
“I don’t like leaving projects unfinished, no,” he replied.
She took a long draw of Lana’s wine and gave him an assessing look before saying, “Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeated, not understanding her response to his bald confession.
“Let’s unclog your drain. Let’s go upstairs to this hotel room of yours and get me out of your system.”
14
HAN
Let’s unclog your drain.
They crashed into his suite at the Tourmaline kissing, like a tsunami, one that couldn’t be stopped until they washed into the bed.
Han felt uncharacteristically desperate. The dress that was so wrong for her—he wanted it gone. But he stopped just short of tearing it off her body.
No…he had to calm down. He wanted this to be good for her, wanted her to remember their one night together when they moved on to other people.
He tamped down the bitter jealousy that appeared when he thought of her with other men. This is a temporary madness, he promised himself. She had been exactly right about her driving him crazy because she was a loop he’d failed to close. All he had to do was take her. And then this weird obsession would end.
He reared up from the kiss to command, “Take off your dress.”
The words came out as rough and raw as he felt.
She’d hesitated in the champagne room, but not tonight. At his words, she crossed her arms over her body and grabbed the dress at the waist. In the next moment, it was gone. And she looked back at him as if to say, Challenge met.
The stark dare in her eyes made his blood roar with something primal. Made him want to claim her that much more. But seeing what she wore underneath the dress made him stop short. Was that…?
He had to ask the question out loud, “Is that a bikini?”
She glanced down at the nylon with the RipSwell logos covering her breasts and privates and answered, “Yeah, this is what I wear under everything since I don’t own any real bras or panties.
“You don’t own proper underwear?” he asked, not bothering to keep the shock out of his voice.
She shrugged, completely unashamed. “I mean, what’s the point when bikinis work just as well. Plus, if you’re wearing a bikini underneath, you’re always ready to jump into the ocean.”
Han made a surprised, considering sound in the back of his throat. She was so different from the other women he’d been with. So obviously not trying to impress him.
Hunger that had nothing to do with his missed meal filled his belly—along with a wicked desire to knock her off that unbothered pedestal.
She eeped when he yanked at the bikini bottoms, sending her flying backward as he pulled them down her strong legs.
But her surprise turned into something else when he hooked her knees over his shoulders and licked her pussy.
She tasted good. So much better than anything the Michelin-star chef could have come up with downstairs. And her soft mews of pleasure made his cock hard as granite. He wanted to bury himself inside of her. But he wanted to experience her going wild for him even more. So he kept going, his tongue delving between her soft folds.
