Bracing her hands to his chest, she pushed back and ended the kiss. Her only consolation as she bent to catch her breath was that he looked just as off balance. When she straightened, they stood there, breathing heavily, looking into each other’s eyes.
I should introduce myself. She stuck her hand out. “Viviana Sutton.”
He looked down at her hand then back up with a lusty smile on his face. “Grant—Grant Enynaim.” His hand closed around hers—strong and sure—just like his kiss.
That touch also ended too soon.
Don’t just stare at him—speak. Explain again that what he thinks might happen won’t and run. “Well, it was nice to—meet you.” She took a step back. “I should try to catch up with my friend.”
“Do you like wheatgrass?”
“I don’t know what that is.” It sounded familiar.
He nodded toward a place behind her. “There’s a juice bar across the street. Want to try it?”
Juice bar? That didn’t seem like a potentially bad life choice. In fact, it sounded refreshingly healthy. “With you?” Duh? What is wrong with my brain? She looked him over slowly. He’s too good looking—that’s the problem. I shouldn’t talk to him; I should just appreciate the view for a moment more then go before he says something that ruins this memory for me.
Like: “Hey, I’m married.” Or “I only killed a couple of people—that doesn’t make me a serial killer.”
He didn’t appear to mind that she’d had less awkward conversations with her gynecologist. “No expectations. If it makes you feel better, I’ll even let you pay.”
Seriously? “You’re asking me to join you for a drink that you want me to pay for?”
He seemed to battle with himself before saying, “I didn’t bring my wallet with me.” Then he smiled and any disappointment she’d felt at the idea that he might be more broke than she was melted away. How much could one juice cost? It couldn’t be that much. And I did break his phone.
She glanced over her shoulder at the juice bar. Well lit. Busy. Seems safe enough. Why the hell not?
Out of the corner of her eye she realized Audrey was lingering and watching. Viviana waved her to go and Audrey did with a huge smile. When she turned back to Grant she caught him watching her and the expression on his face sent a rush of heat through her. Her gaze dropped to his crotch, seeking confirmation before she dared believe he felt the way she did. There it was—an impressively large erection in the front of his jogging shorts. Big and bold just like the man sporting it. Wheatgrass, huh? Can we roll around naked in it?
“I don’t mind paying,” she said in a whispered voice. She raised her eyes to his. The air between them sizzled. She could almost hear her father saying, “A man who makes a woman pay isn’t a man she should be with. It’s a respect thing.”
Being respected is overrated. She shook her head to clear it.
Not that anything is going to happen between us.
I’m not that kind of person.
I hold myself to a high standard of dating someone at least six months before indulging in mediocre, turn-the-lights-off-please sex.
“Great, let’s go,” he said, placing a hand on the lower curve of her back and guiding her across the bike path and toward the street.
Moments later they were at the counter of the juice bar ordering two shots of what looked like lawn cuttings. A perky teenage girl swiped Viviana’s credit card then held out two nasty looking green liquid shots to them. They each took one then stepped off to the side.
Viviana told herself that trying new things was the reason she’d moved to Boston. No one in Cairo served wheatgrass. I’m here to broaden my experiences. Recreate myself. Maybe this new me loves gross looking health drinks. “Should we make a toast?”
“We should.” He raised his plastic shot cup and said, “To chance encounters.”
“To chance encounters,” she repeated and tapped her shot cup against his.
He downed his.
She downed hers then made a gagging sound as she thought she felt a piece of grass tickle the back of her throat. “That’s quite a drink. You can literally feel how good it must be for you.” She wanted to wipe a napkin across her tongue to erase the taste but didn’t.
“You hated it,” he said, one corner of his mouth curling in a smile.
There was amusement in his eyes and Viviana relaxed a little. So I don’t know him. Isn’t everyone a stranger until you take the time to get to know them? “I’m a strawberry smoothie kind of girl.”
He leaned in and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “It’s good to try new things. You can’t really say you don’t like something until you taste it.”
Oh, yes. Viviana followed the path of his thumb with her tongue until she realized what she was doing and watched a flush darken his cheeks. Holy crap. As she stood there simply looking up at him, she thought: Audrey thought he might make me feel better.
I feel pretty damn good.
Shouldn’t I quit while I’m ahead?
“Want to get a table?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered in a breathless tone as she imagined him taking her on it. Now that is the kind of sex I’ve always dreamed of—table sex. I’ve done it on beds. A couch a couple times. I almost did it once in the backseat of a car but I was too paranoid someone would come across us.
But a table—that’s a whole different level.
I bet he has that kind of sex.
He guided her to one near the window. They sat across from each other without speaking at first. She caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the glass and groaned. Her hair was falling out of the elastic she’d tied it back with. Not only did she not have makeup on, but there was also a post workout shine to her face. She tried to discretely tuck some of her hair back in then felt foolish when it sprang free again.
“Let it down,” he ordered in a low tone that sent desire licking through her.
She could have refused, but she wanted to make him feel the way she did—completely inappropriately turned on. There was nothing inherently sexy about reaching behind her head and removing the hair tie, but she did it slowly and hoped it looked as sensuous as it felt. His eyes dilated and his nostrils flared slightly when she adjusted her newly freed long curls. Knowing that she had the power to turn him on was exciting.
He ran a hand up her neck and through her curls. When his hand fisted, she arched her head back and parted her lips. Never, never had she felt sexier.
He groaned. “You are . . . unexpectedly irresistible.”
Irresistible? Me?
If I’m dreaming, Audrey had better not wake me up.
Me. He craves me.
He bent and brushed his lips lightly over hers. She leaned into the kiss. Location didn’t matter. Every inch of her was focused on him and the way she came alive beneath his touch. How much better could this get? If I walk away without knowing, I will spend the rest of my life wondering: What if?
“Dangerously so,” he added.
It is dangerous. He could be anyone. Is that what makes this so exciting? “I don’t do things like this. I don’t meet men and dive into kissing them before I know anything about them.”
“I don’t care if you do.”
Ouch. His blunt honesty stung like a slap. She broke physical contact with him by sitting back in her chair.
He watched her closely like a man trying to solve a puzzle. “Would you rather I lie?” he asked in a low growl.
She opened her mouth with a snappy retort but didn’t utter it. What do I want him to say? He respects me? Sidney had said all the right things and still stolen from her in the end. He probably thought I had more money than I did.
It would have saved us both a lot of time and aggravation had we been honest with each other.
So, isn’t this better? He’s not pretending this will go anywhere. He wants to fuck me. Not make love. Not consummate our feelings for each other through intimacy. Just fuck.
That’s awful—isn?
?t it?
It doesn’t feel awful.
It feels exactly how he described it—dangerously tempting.
I can’t. A wave of disappointment in herself washed over her. I want more. “Thank you for the”—she stopped when she remembered that she’d paid for the drinks—“company. I should get going.”
“Stay,” he said in the same tone that she’d obeyed a few moments earlier, but she didn’t let herself succumb to it a second time.
She shook her head, more for her own benefit than his. “I’m working overtime at the office tomorrow morning.”
“What do you do?” he asked.
Viviana paused her retreat. He seemed genuinely interested. And I can be vague. “I’m an appointment scheduler for a medical center.” Which is technically true.
“Do you like it?” The simplicity of his question put her at ease. Maybe it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. They could be two people simply getting to know each other. Not dangerous. Not naked. No reason to bolt.
She shrugged. “It pays the bills. How about you?”
He took long enough to respond that she thought he’d come back with an elaborate lie. “I have a few things in the works.”
Yep, I’ve dated men with that career before. I knew he had a flaw. Men that good-looking don’t remain single unless there’s something. “I hope one of them comes through for you.”
He nodded. “Did you grow up in Boston?”
“No, I just moved here.”
“Really. What inspired the move?”
