Page 6 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

I sneak a glance at him while his attention is diverted, signaling for the bartender. The move shifts the muscles beneath the material of his shirt enticingly. My fingers twitch to unbutton the studs keeping his shirt together, slide it down his broad shoulders, to see where his tattoos lead.

A second curiosity keeps bugging me and before I can stop, I blurt it out. “Do you call every woman you meet sweet names on the first date?”

His head tilts in my direction, his interest piqued as if he didn’t expect the question. Or maybe he’s quite used to calling women nicknames that it’s become second nature.

“Do they offend you?” he asks before dipping his head low until we’re inches apart, so we can hear each other over the mindless chatter around us. “Was it gorgeous or darling?”

“Neither.” I shrug before giving half a smile. “Truth doesn’t offend me. As long as it’s coming from a genuine place, not casual flirtation.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here, though?” he retorts playfully. “To talk and flirt and see if we’re compatible?”

“Flirting skills are not a quality I’m searching for in a husband.” Running my finger over the rim of the glass of myuseless drink, I point out, “Definitely not a prerequisite for a long, married life.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

I frown. “Why is that?”

“Nothing.” It’s his turn to shrug, his arm flexing and the intricate tattoos rippling over the muscles. “I must have misinterpreted when I read you wanted a partner who could be both charming and flirty under the qualities section in your biodata.”

Fuck.Rookie mistake.

I should’ve read Tina’s biodata.

I’m saved by the bartender, who finally makes his way to us while I backpedal to fix the utter blunder of my slip.

“How may I serve you, sir?” the young man behind the bar asks.

“I’ll have a scotch. Neat.” Julian gazes my way. “Would you like another drink?”

“Trying to get me drunk?”

“You’re the one drinking in the afternoon.”

“Touché.” He chuckles, throaty and sexy. I ignore the butterflies and reply, “No, thank you. One is my limit for the day.”

The bartender scurries away to get his drink. Julian doesn’t take his eyes off me. They roam over every feature of my face. Again, lingering a second too long on my lips. A rush of warmth spreads through me.

There’s no denying our chemistry for two strangers meeting for the first time. Our bodies keep seeking each other, leaning and tugging closer by an invisible thread. He’s as powerless to it as I am.

The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Taking the drink when the bartender sets it down in front of him, I notice he has small tattoos on his knuckles too. Letters.Skulls. Circling the rim with one long finger, he brings the glass to his mouth. Watching me over the rim, he takes a small sip and swallows before licking the corner of his lips.

I feel it directly between my thighs.

A mental image forms in my head of him lying between my spread and tied-up legs, his mouth hovering right over my clit before he licks it with his tongue. It sends a blast of heat and lust to my pussy.

Seduction lies in his every movement.

The man is lethally dangerous.

My heart, which is running a marathon behind my rib cage, flips upside down when Julian reaches forward to tuck a stray hair behind my ear with his fingertip.

“Just so you know, I prefer first names if the other person offers the same courtesy.” Pausing to let his words sink in, I realized that it hasn’t gone unnoticed by him that I haven’t once spoken his name. “Darling.”

The darling at the end sounds both like a taunt and a dare.

However, saying his name feels intimate.

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