“We invited you for drinks. To hang out and relax. That’s all you’ve committed to.” His voice is low and intimate.
“Who am I to you?” It’s my effort to clear the air. If he knows and doesn’t come clean, so be it. If he doesn’t know, then shame on him for not being a bigger part of his daughter’s life.
“My future.”
I laugh off the possessive yet ambiguous response. Moving my hand into the slight gap between us, I gingerly rub my hand over his length again. “That’s a lot more than an evening of drinks. Why don’t we stick with your favorite ways to relax.”
His hand moves up to my neck, holding me, while his other hand slides over my belly and cups the underside of my breast. The world stops while we’re lost in each other’s eyes.
“This is all about helping you relax. What I want doesn’t matter.”
Did a male just speak those words?
The tip of his tongue strokes his bottom lip as his fingers catch my beaded nipple. My gasp makes him laugh, but he has no idea nobody’s ever handled me that way and made it feel good.
While I’m understating things, the way he looks at me makes me feel good too. My fantasies weren’t too far off…being with an older, successful, confident man has its perks over the struggling to make ends meet, arrogant boys I’ve dated.
It’s probably only because I tend to make bad choices that I toy with the idea of being his future, of waking up in his luxurious home, nestled in his arms every morning.
His eyes remain locked on mine as his massaging of my breast intensifies.
“You’re overthinking this, Baby. Would it help you relax if I played with your breasts?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
His tongue drags over my lips. I open instinctively, ready for a kiss, but he doesn’t offer any more than the caress of my lip. He lowers his hand, cupping my sex. “Would it help you relax if I gave your sweet little pussy an orgasm?”
The shocks of pleasure with each pass of his fingers over my clit are something the one guy I had sex with hadn’t been concerned about doing.
I manage an answer. “I think so.”
He leans back and a growl rolls through his chest. “You don’t know? Is that because you doubt me, or you just don’t know?”
Note to self…honesty is not always the best policy. Why didn’t I just say yes? The heat of embarrassment washes over me. “I’ve never come with a guy.”
He freezes, then slowly steps back and turns away. Am I being rejected? Worry tumbles in my stomach. I glance at my bare feet. If I meet Bennett outside, will he give me the shoes and drive me home, no questions asked?
I’m pushing off of the credenza when Roarke turns to me, pinning me in place with his eyes. “Are you a virgin?”
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head.
“But you’ve…” He rakes a hand through his hair then closes the gap between us again. The heat of his body and his potential acceptance sends flutters through me. “You’ve never been with the right man, one who’s willing to ensure your happiness. One who will take care of you.”
He cups my jaw and brushes his thumbs over my cheeks. “One who adores you.”
The scramble of emotions is too intense. Everything he says is perfect, just like I’d imagined. One time will never be enough. The amount of time it takes to order up any words takes too long.
With absolute sincerity, he continues, “I want to do all of that for you. Will you let me?”
“It’s just drinks, Doctor Shepherd.” It’s confirmed…my brain is on break as I look up at him.
“Baby, don’t be so formal. Let me give you more than drinks. Let me teach you.”
Teach me what? It doesn’t matter. “Yes.”
“Will you let me take care of you?”
I should say no, but sorting bad decisions from good ones becomes too complicated.