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“Nothing but an open book.”

Right.

I was a fucking impenetrable safe.

A goddamn tomb.

“Ah, we all have our secrets. Main thing is knowing when they’re worth keeping.” With a parting wink, he left me with that thought to chew on.

Got the sense he was leaving me some kind of prediction. An omen. Like he knew something he shouldn’t.

Unease spun, and I blew out a frustrated breath before I turned and wound deeper into the party.

Chin lifted like I owned the place.

One day I would.

One day I would own everything.

I made a beeline for the bar that lined the back of the luxurious room. Everything was shiny and gold and gaudy, ornate tapestries hanging from the high walls supported by massive columns, the sky-high ceiling painted blue and dotted with cherubs and clouds to give the effect that you might have actually spent enough dough and bought yourself a plot in heaven.

I lifted a finger toward the bartender, who gave me a slight nod in response. If I had to be here, I was going to make the best of it.

He poured me two fingers of my favorite scotch and slid the glass across the bar. My shaking hand settled around the tumbler, relief in the sensation of the alcohol on my tongue when I lifted it to my mouth.

For the barest beat, I almost felt human. Like I was the same as every other asshole in the room. Like I hadn’t fought and clawed and cheated my way to get there.

I started to push away from the bar to go do some more of that ass-kissing I was supposed to do, when my gaze tripped.

Snagged.

Usually these events bored me to death, but my dick was suddenly very interested in what the benefit had to offer.

Good God.

All I saw was legs.

A mile of them.

Toned and thick and delicious.

Shown off by this beige gown that should be illegal with the way a slit cut all the way up to the center of a lush, creamy thigh, a sparkling jewel gathering the fabric of her dress to that spot.

A motherfucking beacon guiding some poor soul who’d been lost at sea.

I might not be poor or lost, but I sure as hell could use a night of saving.

I let my gaze roam, higher and higher, inch by inch, eyes devouring this girl who was nothing but ample curves and tempting flesh.

I trailed all the way up until I was taking in the profile of her face.

Angled chin and a narrow nose. The girl was nursing a bubbling glass of champagne where she sat by herself at the opposite end of the bar.

Aloof and unapproachable . . . and somehow . . . soft.

That alone made me want her.

Blonde waves tumbled down her back, so long I was pretty sure the locks touched her ass, lips pouty and plump as she brought the rim of her glass up to take a sip.

Shit, she was stunning. Like maybe she’d been carved into the elegant room. A part of the décor.

My mouth watered. It was instant, the way I was imagining running my hands over that soft skin, wrapping those legs around my waist as I pounded into her, all the wicked things I’d do to her.

Transported.

Lost for a night.

That sweet body a sanctuary.

Discomfort radiated from her in crashing waves, her spine stiff like she didn’t want to be there any more than I did.

I’d put down money she was married to one of these pompous douches who forked out a thousand dollars a plate just so he could be seen.

It wasn’t like any of these assholes had any actual interest in feeding some impoverished, ratty kid.

Knew the reality of that firsthand.

Like she could feel the weight of my stare, she glanced my way. She froze when she saw me staring back, tripped up, too, both of us getting swept up in an instant of attraction.

Her eyes flashed.

A bright, bright blue.

So distinct that her penetrating gaze almost sent me reeling back.

They shined like crystallized, teal marble. A thousand shades that twisted and spun into something endless. So deep that, if I were to stare too long, I’d tumble right in.

Lust billowed in the space between us. Hot and intense.

That instant attraction had become a bluster in the air. Every single muscle in my damn body went hard just from that single glance.

It was what I craved. Something raw and intense and unbridled. Part passion, part rage.

For a few blissful moments, fully letting go.

Mindless sex.

Bodies giving.

No consequence.

I could feel it. The fever that radiated from her just as intensely as it radiated from me.

Crashing in the middle of us.

Compounding and amplifying and coming alive.

No doubt, the girl was a ticking bomb ready to blow.

Straightening my shoulders, I tried to pretend like I wasn’t affected as I watched those crystalline eyes rake over me, fire and ice, and I had to wonder if she was imagining raking her nails down my back instead.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Confessions of the Heart Romance