Page 47 of My Lucky Star
“What did you write in that post?” I asked him when Kerim left.
“Nothing much. Kerim is happy about the publicity. His wife is a huge fan ofAskta Sansli. He’s going to get lucky tonight. Unlike me.”
He met my eyes, teasing, but a little sad. I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t tell him that he was wrong, or right. I couldn’t sleep with him. I would never survive the fallout. I would never survive being cast aside by a celebrity – someone who was livingmydream. I’d moved here to heal, to get away from the constant reminders of my failures. Away from the lukewarm relationships that only reminded me of how insignificant I was. How I always came second.
“Why do you even want me?” I asked. “Is it because you miss Burcu? Or... convenience?”
“What’s convenient about you? You live across the planet and keep friend zoning me.”
Fair enough.
“And Burcu...” His hot gaze searched my face. “I admit I found it confusing at first. I kept looking at you and seeing her, but not anymore. I only see you. You have this funny way of looking at me, like you’re amused and disapproving, but also turned on. Like that!” he exclaimed, pointing at my face.
“Was I drooling?” I touched the side of my mouth, feigning embarrassment that really, deep down, was quite real. Clearly, I wasn’t a lady, but at least I had my sarcasm.
Cem laughed until tears sprung from his eyes. “That’s what I mean! Burcu would never say that. She’d be coy and cute. She’d do that guarded thing women do, playing hard to get. Hard to read. But you—”
“I get it,” I said, my cheeks burning, as I used a piece of flatbread to clear my plate. “I’m a savage.” I sucked the last bit of sauce off the bread, closing my eyes to savor the taste. If Turkey had this to offer, maybe I could sneak a visit there and eat my way through the country. I wouldn’t tell him anything.
“You’re plenty cute, but you don’tactcute. I like it. It makes me wonder how you’d act if—.”
“Stop!” Annoyance heated my chest, momentarily surpassing the arousal. “I’m way more repressed than you think. If you’re looking for some free-spirited foreign fuck buddy, I’m not your girl. I joke when I’m nervous, but I’m not that loose.”
He studied me from under drawn eyebrows. “I was going to say I wonder how you’d act if you weren’t so scared. I’m not sure what you’re afraid of, but you’re fighting so hard. You’re fighting this thing...” His finger wavered between us.
“There’s no ‘thing’,” I trapped his hand against the table, exasperated. “There’s a weird business arrangement and some sexual tension you keep stirring up to watch me squirm. You’re gorgeous and sexy and I’m human, so of course there’s a reaction. It doesn’t mean I want to pursue this. Or that I can.” I pulled my hand away from his, securing it in my lap.
Cem’s voice lost its smirky edge, turning low and gruff. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m so hard for you, I can’t sit comfortably anymore.”
I swallowed air and leaned forward, almost gasping as the inseam of my jumpsuit dug into my crotch. Adjusting the straps had definitely made the outfit too tight. I moved a little, testing the sensation. Wow! That was new. I rolled my hips, subtly grinding against the friction, my eyes on Cem. I doubted he could pleasure himself this easily, with his hands on the table, fingers tapping on the knife.
“You have to stop licking your lips.” His voice held a warning.
My hand sailed to my mouth, and I smiled. I hadn’t even noticed myself doing that. The throbbing between my thighs intensified, but I tried my hardest not to let it show. This was for me, not him. I wouldn’t let him use me. I would never let him that close. I’d only enjoy his dirty talk, then take care of myself.
For a minute or two, I felt happy with my self-discipline. I took a couple of deep breaths, staring at the wine I’d nursed half-way through.
I could feel him testing his charm on me, single-minded in his pursuit. He probably didn’t hear the word ‘no’ that often. Did he really want me, even for one night, or was he determined to prove that nobody could resist him? The latter seemed likely – my refusal must have bruised his ego.
Cem scooped my hand across the table, running his thumb around my palm in lazy circles. The motion of it, so firm and deliberate, sent an electric hum through me, a vibration with one destination. My crotch would be soaking wet when I finally stood from the table. Which would be never.
“Aria,” he whispered. “I know I’ve been teasing you, but I can’t be the only one feeling... this... this energy between us. Am I?” His thumb never left my palm, rubbing it like he was rubbing...
Don’t go there, Aria.
I focused on the candle flame to stop my eyes from rolling back. Every word out of his mouth rumbled and resonated and swept against me like a touch.
When I finally looked up, his eyes captured me. The only word I could think of was ‘yearning’ and it sounded ridiculous, even in my own head. The opaque, darkened glow of arousal was still there, but it was delivered as a package deal with something more unsettling. “Seriously, I’ll have to take a cold shower in my jeans. I won’t be able to take them off.”
“Well, I’m ruining an outfit I borrowed from my boss.” My words rushed out breathlessly as heat blasted into my cheeks. I couldn’t conduct myself around him. I wasn’t safe.
I watched his face morph as my words landed.
I expected him to look smug. Victorious. Predatory. He was playing a dirty game and winning at it. Instead, I saw delight. Maybe even relief.
His mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Really? I’m happy to help you out of it and get it dry cleaned. Or burned.”
“Burned sounds fair. I think it’s seen too much.” My mouth felt so dry I could hardly speak, but I had to smile at his enthusiasm.
