Page 52 of Maneater
“Oh, hey, Rowan. Funny seeing you here,” she says.
Josie thinks she has a killer poker face, but the truth of the matter is, I can read her every emotion as if it were my own.
“I work here,” I say, leaning into the doorway, continuing to watch her. She smiles and shrugs before I watch her mask snap into place, the sultry version back.
“What areyoudoing here?” I ask, taking a few steps into the room and closer to her. The party is in full swing, so guests have stopped visiting the room frequently, something I’m grateful for. I enjoy having Josie to myself, especially when she least expects it.
“I, uh.” She lifts the strap of a bag that looks nothing like something she’d carry around, not that I’ve been taking notes. It’s also bright blue when she’s in an orange dress. I don’t know all that much about women’s fashion, but it doesn’t exactly match. “I was told we can’t bring our bags into the party. Dropped mine in here.” I stare at her for long moments before taking a few steps in her direction until there are just a few feet between us.
“Is that right?” She nods, licking her pink-painted lips, and my eyes linger there for long, long moments before I push off from the doorway and take a few steps into the room. “What were you looking for?”
“Oh, you know. I just wanted to make sure I had a clear idea of where all my belongings were, in case something goes missing.
“The room is pretty well guarded. Don’t think you have to worry about that.” She takes a step closer to me with a heated smile, and even though I know she’s playing some game, even though I’m pretty sure she’s intending to create a distraction, I can’t seem to think clearly around her.
“Yeah, well, you can never be too careful. Does this mean you’re done avoiding me?” she says, reaching up and moving to touch the collar of my shirt. Like this, there’s barely any space between us, and I have to look down at her slightly.
I like it far more than I should.
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” I say, a half lie. I did see her at thecasual restaurant this afternoon and decided that room service to my office was the better option than dealing with the distraction that is Josie. But that was just good time management, not avoidance.
I’m not even buying my own lies at this point.
“So you don’t find me completely off-putting?” she asks, her voice a sexy whisper that I feel in my cock.
I should step away.
I should keep things professional.
But I can’t stop hearing her words from the cabana playing in my mind:You can touch me, Rowan.You can kiss me.I lick my suddenly dry lips, and she tracks the movement with clear fascination.
“I think I made it explicitly clear in that office that I found you anything but off-putting.” My voice is low even to my own ears, and it sends a shiver through her, something I watch with utter satisfaction.
“But now…” She tips her head with the unspoken question.
“But now you’re a guest, and I have enough on my plate with everything going on around here.”
She smiles then. “And yet here you are. With me.” Her words come out in a whisper, and I don’t know if she moves or I do, but the gap between us lessens, although we still don’t touch.
“It’s starting to feel like the universe is throwing you in my way,” I say.
A little laugh leaves her lips, and it sends warm puffs of her breath coasting over the skin at my neck.
“You make it sound like it’s a punishment,” she says.
I shake my head, finally admitting, at least to myself, that it’s not. It’s anything but.
“I’ve been around the world, and I’ve never met anyone like you,” I whisper, the words lower and more gravelly than I intend.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says with a husky laugh.
Without my mind’s permission, I reach for her hand and tug her close. She stumbles but catches herself on me. Her hands fall against my chest as her entire body molds to mine. She’s short even in thoseheels, and I have to look down at her. Her chin tips up to look at me. Without hesitation, her hands slide up my chest, leaving a burning trail as they move to my neck, fingers moving into my hair, her nails scraping along my scalp.
This woman is dangerous, and she knows it.
I just can’t seem to find it in me to care.
“Good. It was one.”
