"I'm pretty good at sewing things back together. However, yes, this dress is special to me."
He nodded. "Noted. I'll take it easy on you. Well, your clothing anyway."
I swallowed hard. Because that implied he wouldn't take it easy onme. The thought sent a flutter deep to my core.
The way his eyes bore into me did nothing to dispel that feeling, only serving to intensify every heartbeat, every breath.
"Are you ready to take this to the next level?" he asked.
Nodding, I suddenly knew without a doubt I was ready. All my previous worries had melted away with his sexy words and reassurances. What I'd never find out was if he truly meant what he'd said, calling me beautiful, sexy, and smart. Or if he was just a player.
It didn't matter, though. None of that did.
The only thing that mattered was all the planning and wishful thinking I'd invested into this evening was about to come true.
Four
Astrid
Clasping my hand in his, he led me back downstairs, barely speaking, focused and determined, clearly a man on a mission. I had to admit... it was incredibly flattering.
Our route took us through the ballroom once more where he maneuvered us through the maze of people. Somehow, it'd grown more crowded in our absence.
A server offered us champagne as we walked past, but right as I reached for a glass, mystery man declined it. "No more champagne," he said.
"Excuse me? Why not?"
"Because I want you sober for what I'm about to do to you.Withyou."
Oh. I went from indignant about being ordered around to floating on air. He wanted me sober. That made sense. He didn't want me to have any regrets.
"Okay then."
That earned me a chuckle, and then he was back to that mega intense focus that made me giddy with anticipation. I was either on the verge of the night of my life or an epic letdown.
However, I already knew to the depths of my soul that this man would not let me down in bed. My pussy tingled, delighted that she would soon be getting some action. It'd been so long,so incredibly long, an agonizingly prolonged dry spell that I was embarrassed to admit to anyone, even myself.
Before I knew it, mystery man had navigated us straight through the crowd and out the front door where a driver waited for us. He spoke a few words to him, then helped me into the backseat.
"Where are we going?" I asked, curious to see where this man lived.
"I'm staying in a hotel right now."
"Oh? But you live in the city, right?"
"I do." He shifted in his seat.
A red flag alert lit up in my head, and it suddenly dawned on me that he might be married. Or have a significant other. "Why the hotel?"
There was a long, drawn-out pause as I spiraled down an awful rabbit hole. He was hiding something for sure.
He ran a hand through his hair, then sighed. "I'm just going to be totally honest here."
My heart plummeted at his weary tone, the weight of whatever confession he was about to make nearly unbearable.
"So," he began, "I have a teenage half-brother staying with me at the moment, and God only knows what mess awaits me. And the last thing I want to do is bring you into the middle of that."
A teenage half-brother? It was so out of left field, it had to be the truth. "What?" I asked, the word coming out as a half-gasp and half-laugh.
