“So, Mrs. Williams, do you mind telling me your first name?” He has too much control. I have to snatch a little back. Shit, I have to at least put up some resistance.
“Ugh, seriously. It’s Vanessa.” It’s the first name that popped into my head. It’s like when they say tree, and you shout out birds. Unfortunately, I don’t have a poker face, and he doesn’t buy it.
“Vanessa Williams? It has a wonderful ring to it. Now, will you stop lying to me and tell me your real name?”
“It’s Cordelia, but I go by Lia.” I finally cave. A part of me—a big part of me—wants him to know everything about me, but I can’t just fall into his arms a split second after meeting him.
A wide, handsome smile spreads over his face. “Cordelia Williams sounds so damn pretty, doesn’t it?” It does—especially coming from his lips.
I’m so flustered, and he’s very aware of it, but I have to try to create some distance. He’s a stranger I want to have sex with for some odd reason. “I think you’re nuts. Excuse me. I have to go.”
“Why?” He growls out the word as if I’m doing something wrong by wanting to leave. I’m irritated at myself for agreeing with him. I don’t want to go. I’d rather be the center of his attention than listen to a lecture.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a class. I can’t be late. Excuse me.” I attempt to move past him, but he’s so large, and there’s a crowd growing around us. They aren’t focused on our conversation. At least most of them aren’t, but his employees are gawking at their boss flirting with a customer.
“What time is the class?” he asks, pulling out his cell phone to check the time.
“It starts at eight-thirty.”
“You have forty-five minutes. Come sit over here with me, and I’ll drop you off.” I pause, pretending to consider the offer even though I know I’m not ready to walk away from him.
“Fine, but just fifteen minutes. I like to be early, and I walk the rest of the way from here.” He leads me to a table that has a stack of papers and a closed laptop on it. “This table looks taken.”
“Not as taken as I am with you,” he growls, pointing to the chair. “They are my things. Sit.”
“You just left this sitting here?” I ask as he straightens it up, giving us room to set our cups down without ruining his papers.
“Yeah. Now, take a seat, please.” He’s getting frustrated and that’s when I spot his cock pushing against his slacks. Damn, I find it so hot. No wonder why he wants us to sit. I’m enjoying the sight too much, but then I remember that we’re not alone, and a jolt of jealousy has my ass sitting down. He follows, sitting gingerly.
“You’re one bossy man.” Poking the bear sends my heart racing.
“You’ll get used to it.” He takes a drink of his coffee and frowns in disappointment.
“Doubt it.” I’m already getting used to it.
“So do you normally drink iced coffee?” he asks. I’m betting he doesn’t.
“No. My Keurig is in the garbage because my roommate broke it this morning, leaving me without coffee. I took one step in this heat and wanted something refreshing. Do you?”
“No. It’s a first actually. It’s not bad, but I prefer hot coffee.” I knew it. He has an expressive face.
“Do you make a habit of accosting customers?”
“Nope. You’re the first.” He twists his lips and arches a brow before taking a drink out of his less than perfect coffee. “You don’t have a Texas accent. I’m guessing a transplant?”
I give him a smile because his slight drawl is panty-melting. “You’ve got that right. Any guesses from where?” He looks me over, taking in my tight khaki shorts and red V-neck tee with my cute sandals. It’s hot as hell out today even though it’s the middle of February, but then again, it’s south Texas.
“You have to be from Chicago or the area around it.” Damn. What the fuck? Is he a mind reader or some shit?
“How the hell did you figure that out?”
He laughs at my gaping mouth. “I do a lot of business with people from all over the world. Besides, I enjoyed the SNL skits with the Bears fans. It’s not as strong, but I can hear it.”
“Da Bears,” I add with an extra dose of Chicago speak.
“Oh, I’d keep that down, sweetheart. You’re in Cowboy country.”
I lean forward and whisper, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
He shakes his head and sits back. “I don’t know. It’s going to be a house divided come football season.”
“There you go again with that talk. I’ve known you for a whole three seconds. You haven’t even told me your first name.” I try to push back on the happily ever after he keeps hinting at.