Page 47 of Lessons in Love
I lean over and kiss her because damn she just can’t say things like that without expecting me to touch her in some way. Call me a greedy bastard.What can I say?It’s been too long since I’ve been with a woman.
Actually it’s been weeks, ever since this amazing woman walked into The Hideaway. I feel like I should send her a condolence bouquet now. Hell knows I’m going to need all the strength I can gather to not act like a baby whale discovering it’s blowhole for the first time.
Damn bro.I shake my head at myself. I’m so broken. My humor falls flat at my feet. Even I’m not entertained by my usually amusing self. Maybe tonight will heal both me and my quick wit.
She says, “I love kissing you.”
“I love . . .” Eh, eh, eh. I’m not going there. She smiles as if she knows the slip that almost slid right out of my mouth.
I pay the driver and we get out in front of a modern building surrounded by other more contemporary architecture.
“We’re here.”
“I sort of had you pegged for a brownstone walkup kind of girl.”
She twirls in front of me, the wine going to her head and freeing her spirit. “I like keeping you guessing.” “That you do, my dear. That you do.” The door is opened for us, and we walk in. “I can appreciate the modernist approach to real estate and the boom in condos that are sleek with clean lines.” What I won’t go into with her is that this building is so similar to the one I used to live in. Once I left the hustle and bustle of the city I needed to change everything and that’s when I bought my building. It was dilapidated and almost condemned for the missing windows and doors. Four stories of character and old Brooklyn history were almost demolished. I made the city a deal they couldn’t refuse and took on the project with my contractor who was working on my bar. After one and a half years of renovations, the first three floors of apartments were done. The fourth floor—my future residence should be done within the next month if the weather cooperates.
The full floor with private elevator and an entire rooftop terrace will be all mine. Years of hard work and dreams have been sunk into my business and building a better life than I once had. I can appreciate her building with the doorman and amenities, but I don’t miss this lifestyle.
She takes my hand and we walk through the brightly lit lobby to the stainless steel elevators. Virginia said hello to the doorman when she passed and wished the lobby clerk a good evening. It’s little things like that, small gestures that say more about the kind of person she is than the louder ploys for attention she thinks she needs to attract the asshole.
The elevator doors open and I swing her inside and pin her to the wall. “How are you still single, Ms. Ryan?”
“You tell me, Mr. Richard.” She glances to the buttons and says, “Twenty-three.”
I hit the button and when the doors close, I run my nose along her neck, taking in her scent. “You’re beautiful but stubborn, intelligent but with the tiniest bit of naivety. You’re strong and defiant, sexy, and demure.” Touching her lips, I lean in and kiss the corners. “You are a siren wearing an angel’s halo. What am I going to do with you?”
She’s almost breathless, but her hand slides around my neck, and says, “Anything you want.”
My mouth covers hers and our lips part, our tongues engaging. Bending down just enough to find the hem of her dress under her coat, I start slowly, methodically dragging the fabric up with my hand. “I’m going to eat your p?—”
The elevator dings and the doors open. We both release a breath as the tension escapes the elevator and we walk off hand in hand. She says, “Hold that thought.”
“I’ll do more than hold it, babe.”
“That’s what I’m counting on, professor.”
“Professor? I like that.” She leads me down a corridor and around a turn. Her apartment is at the end. The key unlocks it and I hold the door while she enters first.
“My Professor of Romance.”
My eyebrows waggle and I run the palm of my hand over the round of her ass. “I had no intentions of romancing you tonight.”
“Want to come inside?”
“Do I ever?”
This time she breaks character and laughs. “You really do have a talent for the sexual innuendoes.”
“I’ve listed it as a skill on my résumé.” The view is great. The city is lit up just outside the large living room windows, reminding me so much of my past.
“I bet you did. Drink? I have a great pinot noir.”
Running my hands through my hair, I can feel my veins twisting to find some of my old self inside. I’m not sure if I should give in or block the feelings from resurfacing. Gentle. I want to be gentle with her and if I let the past seep back in I might not be. “Do you have whiskey?”
She hangs her coat and bag on some hooks by the door. “I bought a bottle of Jack Daniels. I wanted you to feel at home.”
I do.Too much in this environment.“Thanks.”
