Holy fuck. “Yes, sir.”
He leans down and growls, “Now, that’s a fucking good girl.” A shockwave shoots straight to my clit. “I can’t wait to get you on your knees. I’ve wanted to fuck that lipstick off your dirty mouth since the second I saw you. I’ll meet you out front. I’m driving a black Cadillac. Don’t leave me waiting.”
Good girl.It’s just as fucking hot when he says it as when the dirtiest book boyfriend says it. I can do this. I’m going to do this. He disappears out the front door. For one night, I’m Annabelle Cooper, my favorite romance heroine.
“Here you go, ma’am.”
My hand shakes as I retrieve the glass from the bartender. “Thank you.” Alexander might think another drink is a bad idea, but he’s wrong. I need a little extra liquid courage.
Chapter Four
Daisy
As the illumination from the city lights brighten and then dims the leather interior of the Cadillac, I clasp my hands together. I’ve lost my mind. I’ve never left with a stranger to hook-up. I don’t do that. I’ve never done that. I’ve barely made out before, which is something Heather takes great delight in making fun of me over.
‘Little Miss Pudgy can’t get a date.’ ‘It’s a lie when people say guys want a little cushion for the pushin’. They don’t.’
Tonight is a big fuck you to the Mean Girls Club. I can have sex without falling in love. And tomorrow, everything will go back to normal.
“You seem deep in thought.” His baritone voice slithers along my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No. I’ve not changed my mind.”
“We don’t have to do this. I can take you back to the reception.”
Take me back? Screw that. I don’t want to see the mean girls again tonight. “I’ve not changed my mind. I want to spend the next few hours forgetting I do everything for everyone else.”
“I’m happy to be of service.” He taps his fingertips on the steering wheel.
“What is your family like?”
His jaw tightens as he continues to stare out the front windshield. Blocks pass and Alexander says nothing. Well, this is awkward. I shift my attention to the sidewalk. The buildings are getting closer as we’ve reached the downtown portion of the city.
“I’m an only child. My father is a businessman focusing solely on his legacy and providing a quality product. The company is a generational business founded on family values.” He pauses as if he’s thinking about what to say. “The business’s reputation is more important to him than anything else.”
I scrunch my nose. “What do you mean?”
“The business has been in the family for over 150 years. When my great-grandfather built the company, his foundational principles were stewardship and quality and with every generation since, it’s been above-reproach reputations and traditions. Nothing changes if everyone hasn’t agreed, from the janitorial staff to the customers. It gets exhausting to live up to my parent’s expectations and to never see the business expand.”
“That sounds like a lot of pressure.” I smooth my skirt with my fingertips.
“It can be.” He flips on the blinker and pulls into the driveway of one of the most luxurious hotels in the city.
Holy cow. I’ve never stayed in a place like this. My father makes decent money, but this is above his league. There are gold-plated light fixtures and chandeliers. Balconies that overlook the city landscape. And 800 thread count sheets.
Do they feel better than the ones bought at a lower-end store? I shiver. I guess I’m about to find out. My heart beats frantically against my ribs. Maybe I should have him take me back. This is not me. I’m not a character inPretty Woman.
He pulls into a spot and turns off the engine. “Seriously, talking about my family is a drag. I’m not trying to put a downer on the night.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “No more talking about family. How about no more talk because I’ve gone from buzzed and ready to roll around in the sheets to depressed and needing another drink.”
He chuckles and cups my cheek, turning my face in his direction. “Do you want me to get you back in the mood?”
I stare at his mouth and shiver. The callouses on his palms feel solid against my skin. “Yes. Do luxury sheets really feel better than the cheaper ones?”
His mouth curves upward. “You may never get to find out because we might never make it to the bed.”
When his mouth covers mine, my brain short-circuits. He manages to exert just the right amount of pressure, leaving me wanting more. I whimper and lean over the console. He tugs on my hair as he grabs the back of my head.