Page 75 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
Home.There goes my heart again.
Me: Well, the groom just fireman-carried his bride out of the bar, so things are wrapping up pretty soon. I’m going to drop my friend off at her apartment when she finishes her drink, then I’ll be on my way. Two hours tops.
Lewis: Can’t wait ;) Get ready for the surprise of your life.
For the next hour, all I can think about is what Lewis has in store for me when I get home.
I walk in the front door to find Lewis sitting on the couch, looking at his phone, decked out in a three-piece suit.
My mouth falls open. Holy shit, he looks hot.
“Wow.” I can barely get the word out, I’m so blown away at how good he looks.
He smiles as he stands up slowly and walks toward me.
“Good evening, Ms. Ellorza. Welcome to Club Lewis. You’re a VIP guest, and I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of tonight.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up into that cheeky half smile I adore. He turns and heads to the kitchen and pulls a bottle of sparkling wine from the fridge. As he pops the cork and pours the bubbly liquid into a champagne flute, I take him in with hungry eyes. In those charcoal-gray trousers, vest, and jacket with the black tie, crisp white shirt, and black dress shoes, he looks like he walked straight off an award show red carpet.
“You just happened to pack a designer suit?” I ask, breathless.
“I always have a backup suit just in case a special occasion should arise. And make no mistake, this is a special occasion...”
He strolls back over and hands the glass to me. My throat has gone dry, so I guzzle the wine, coughing when the bubbles hit my nose.
“More?” He holds up the bottle in his hand.
“Please.” He pours me another glass, and this time I sip it. “Um, you look freaking fantastic.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
A grunting noise rips from his throat before he takes a pull straight from the bottle. As he swallows, he does a slow scan of my body from head to toe.
“Really regret being in the shower when you left for the bachelorette party,” he says, his voice a low growl.
“Really?” I drain the rest of my wine, then take the bottle from his hand and sip from it.
He nods, his eyes locked on mine. He runs the back of his hand along the curve of my hip. “This dress,” he hisses.
“This old thing?” I tease, doing a little shimmy in the figure-hugging bandage dress.
He responds by squeezing my ass. He eyes fall to the hemline, which hits at the middle of my thigh.
“If I had seen you looking this hot, I wouldn’t have let you leave.” He runs a finger along the wine-colored fabric. He skims his hand up my body, landing at the off-the-shoulder strap.
I step forward, closing the space between us. My body presses against his, and I feel that telltale hardness against my thigh.
“What would you have done?”
“Lots and lots of filthy things.”
“Show me.”
Another grunt-like noise escapes from him as he grabs me by the arm and leads me into my bedroom. He sits me on the edge of the bed and stands in front of me.
“That’s a nice suit,” I mutter as he rips off the jacket and tosses it on the floor. “Should you hang it up? It looks expensive.”
“Fuck that,” he growls.
