Page 205 of Sweet Temptation

The only thing that could potentially kill the excitement of this date, for me, was the fact that we weren’t alone.

Nope. We had security.

Since Ronan would be “distracted” while he was on this date with me, he’d insisted on having Andre meet us here. He was seated several tables away, at a hightop by the bar, with a good vantage point of the room, the entrance, the exits—and of course, us.

“Does Andre know we’re on a date?” I asked Ronan as we got settled. I was sitting way too close to him for a professional dinner.

“Who knows,” he said vaguely. But he didn’t make any move to put more space between us.

“Did he ask you if we’re on a date?”

“He did.”

“And?”

“And… I neither confirmed nor denied. But I did tell him to mind his own damn business.”

“You didn’t.”

“No. I was a little less polite about it than that.”

I glanced over at Andre, who was pretending not to watch us as he eyed the crowd and sipped a glass of water.

“Hmm. You realize the man isn’t blind or stupid.”

“Nope. Quite the opposite. He’s one of my best guys. He leads one of my event security crews, and I’ve put him on close protection with several VIP clients over the years.”

“Uh-huh. And you think there’s any way in hell he’s not gonna suspect we’re on a date right now?”

“He can suspect all he wants,” Ronan said, cooly sipping his water. “But it’s none of his—”

“Damn business,” I finished for him. “Well, I guess I can’t complain. Since you’ve made it his business to watch our asses tonight… so I can have your ass all to myself.”

Ronan cocked an eyebrow at me, and his gaze dragged down my body in a way that reminded me of the crazy-intense fuck we’d had on my bathroom counter less than an hour ago. I could still feel him. I could still see his cock ramming into me… He’d ordered me to watch it while he fucked me.

I felt a little dizzy just thinking about it.

“Hey, now. What kind of girl do you think I am?” I picked up my menu, hoping I didn’t look too damn flustered. “If you think I’m putting out twice before dinner on a first date, you’re wrong. I’m fucking hungry.”

He gave me a slow smirk.

We perused the menu, put in our orders when the server came by, and when our drinks arrived, I raised my Crantini to his draft beer.

“You’re drinking with me,” I observed, delighted, as he tapped his glass to mine.

“I am,” he said, and sipped.

“So, you do actually drink.”

“I do.”

“This is so exciting,” I purred.

He just smiled.

“What?” I prompted.

“I like that about you,” he admitted. “Your unbridled excitement about things. You say exactly how you feel, and you don’t apologize for it. You don’t apologize for anything. You dance, you eat, you flirt, and you fuck like you don’t care who’s looking.”

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