This will be a fuck. Just a fuck. I’ve had “just a fuck” before. I can live with that. Braden Black probably has some extra-smooth moves, plus there’s something about him that seems to call to me, though I have no idea what.
“Because you do,” he says. “Don’t try to deny it, Skye. I see it in your eyes.” He slurps an oyster and licks a dab of cocktail sauce from the corner of his mouth.
I bite my lip. “If I were to agree to this… Where?”
“My place.”
“I don’t even know you.”
His right eye crinkles a little, and for a moment I think he’s going to smile, but he doesn’t. “Sometimes it’s better that way.”
I cock my head slightly. I have no idea what he means, and I wait for him to explain. But no explanation comes. He simply loads cocktail sauce onto another oyster, slurps it, and again licks the dab of red from the corner of his mouth.
How would that tongue feel between my legs? I take a slow drink of my martini. I may need another.
Instead, though, Braden orders a bottle of some kind of French white to go with our dinner. Good thing I like wine. My boyfriend in college used to order for me all the time, and it pissed me off.
When Braden does it? It kind of turns me on.
What is happening to me? I squirm again against that incessant tickle between my legs.
My martini is gone, and the wine arrives, followed by our meals. My haddock looks plain, which is what I was going for. I take a bite. Tasty. Maybe not mouthwateringly delicious, but tasty.
I should make conversation. I could ask Braden how he made his billions, but I already know that story. Everyone does. He and his younger brother, Ben, worked for their father’s small construction company in South Boston. Braden made some modifications to a pair of safety goggles, which turned out to be state of the art. He patented the design, and he and Ben started Black, Inc. when Braden was twenty-five years old. Now, at thirty-five, he and Ben are billionaires, and most construction workers in the world use his goggles. But he’s gone far beyond goggles. His investments in real estate, luxury assets, public and private holdings, foreign currency, precious metals—you name it—have made Black, Inc. a household name.
Braden is the CEO, while Ben handles marketing and their father, Bobby Black, is chairman of the board.
Not bad for a guy who never went to college.
Yeah, we all know the story. He’ll probably think I’m ridiculous if I ask about it.
“Do you have any pets?” I ask after swallowing a bite of broccoli. I have no idea where that question came from, but it’s too late now. The words have left my mouth.
“A dog.”
I widen my eyes. “Oh?” I’m not sure why I’m surprised, but I am. I love dogs, but Braden doesn’t seem to be the dog type.
“Yeah. A rescue pup. She’s adorable.”
I smile and lift my eyebrows. “You rescued a dog?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
Is it? I’m not sure. “Well…no.”
His eyes soften and he pulls out his phone and hands it to me. “She’s great. Part border collie and part Australian cattle dog with some other stuff thrown in. I did one of those doggie DNA kits on her.”
And just like that, Braden Black is even more attractive to me.
“She’s beautiful.” I give his phone back.
“How about you? Any dogs?”
I shake my head. “I love them, but my apartment complex doesn’t allow them.”
“Then move.”
“It’s not that easy when you don’t have millions sitting around collecting dust like you do.”
I freeze, my fork halfway to my plate. Did I really say that? I probably just ended our dinner date.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “That wasn’t called for.”
He shakes his head. “No worries. I’m used to it. But, Skye, I’m not any different from the next person.”
“Except that the next person can’t buy whatever he wants.”
“I can’t, either.”
“Exactly what do you want that you can’t buy?”
“You,” he says. “In my bed.”
Chapter Five
Nice. He knows he can’t buy a woman like me. His words are the first sign all night that he’s not the douchebag Addie says he is. Well, that and the fact that he rescued a dog.
“No,” I say. “I’m not for sale.”
“That’s why you’ll come willingly.” He lowers his gaze to my mouth.
He’s right. I’ll go willingly. As soon as he said he wanted me in his bed, I knew I’d do it. Something about Braden calls to me. I doubt I’m alone. He probably has this effect on every woman he comes across. Does he bed all of them? He isn’t known as a womanizer. He had a pretty public relationship with a lesser-known model named Aretha Doyle for a while, but that ended more than a year ago.