She looks back up at me sheepishly. “Sorry. I should have mentioned it earlier.”
I know I signed off on the concept of running a competition for fans to win a dinner with the author, but I never expected I would have to be a part of it.
“It’s okay. I’m sure it will be fine,” I grumble, not doing a very good job of hiding my displeasure at the idea. All my tactics to avoid Drew today have amounted to nothing now that I need to have dinner with him. And there goes my nice quiet evening finishing Drew’s book.
Back at the hotel, I escape to my room almost as soon as we’re through the doors, leaving Drew and Jackie discussing the details of the dinner. All I need to know is when, because Jackie told me earlier that the dinner will be in the hotel dining room.
I put a little more effort into dressing tonight than I usually would for a business dinner. I could pretend it’s for the competition winners, but it’s not. I want him to want me. Drew and I may not work, but it doesn’t stop me from needing to know he desires me.
My outfit is not wildly inappropriate. It’s just a little black dress in a classically simple wrap style. The crossover forms a deep V over my braless breasts, the band tied tightly at my waist. With my hands resting on my hips, I turn right, then left in front of the mirror, and the skirt flares out before falling loosely to mid-thigh. I like that, and with my favorite new black heels, it makes my legs look longer. I wore these shoes for the first time at the Christmas gala, and I love the way the straps bind my ankles, taking them from the ordinary to straight-out sexy with a hint of dominatrix.
I lean in closer to the mirror to do a final check of my makeup. It’s subtle and light except for the smoky eyes. Allie is great at teaching me all her modeling makeup tricks and would be proud of my efforts tonight.
Soon after, I’m walking into the hotel bar to meet Drew and Jackie. I’m a few minutes late, having texted Jackie first to check that she was downstairs already. Not that it helps when two steps across the threshold, Drew has me in his crosshairs, his eyes tracking with the accuracy of a laser beam over every inch of my body. Heat floods my cheeks, and my nipples pebble with delight at his attention. Now I’m thinking the decision to go braless was a bad move, given the way the stretch fabric clings and does nothing to mask my erect nipples. My body is a traitor to his gaze.
Tiny bubbles of pleasure are bursting inside me at the look of appreciation. His eyes are a brighter blue tonight rather than gray, probably due to his pale-blue button-down shirt he’s wearing with those sinfully tight black jeans. My eyes assess him as thoroughly as he does me. Why does he always have to look so hot?
I join them at the bar. “Hi, Jackie.” Jackie jumps down from the stool she was sitting on. She’s tiny compared to me in my killer heels.
“Hey. Wow, you look great. But I need to dash. Reception just called to say that the cars have arrived with our guests.” She races toward the door, leaving us both staring after her. She explained to me earlier that they’ll be arriving in the two limousines hired to pick up each winner and their invited guest. They’re all local since the entry to the competition was only possible in person at the two bookshops today.
Drew clears his throat, and I turn to face him. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says in his deep bedroom voice. His eyes smolder with so much heat you could toast marshmallows by them. It melts me from the inside out.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks, and I press my suddenly dry lips together. His gaze zeroes in on them. I look toward the bar, avoiding his stare and pretending that I’m trying to choose.
“Maybe just a glass of sparkling water. It’s been a long day.” He nods, then turns to place my order. I’m sure he was about to say something but changed his mind. I wonder what it was as we stand there silently side by side, watching the bartender pour my drink.
I don’t have to wonder for long. When the drink is placed on the bar, Drew passes it to me, then asks, “Katie, why are you avoiding me?” I nearly drop the glass.
“Now isn’t the time,” I tell him, noticing Jackie at the door with four women standing just behind her. “Our guests are here.”
He leans into me and whispers, “Later.” His deep-timbral voice sends a shiver up my spine. It’s not fair that every time he uses his panty-dropping bedroom voice on me, I melt into a puddle of longing.
Chapter twenty-two
Drew
Thereshegoesagain,wearing an outfit that shoots blood straight to my cock. I’m trying to work out whether she’s a temptress or a tease. Prior experience would lead me to believe it’s the former, not the latter. It’s an intoxicating combination, an innocent blush with her sexy little body that l already know is made for sin.
I want to throw her over my shoulder, then march us right back up to my room so I can fuck her senseless. I need the release, and I suspect she does too. Tension is practically emanating from the pores of her skin, and that’s how it’s been since we saw each other yesterday. The last one and a half days have tested my patience and resolve to wait for a sign from her before I dive in and take what I want.
I can almost see her good angel and bad angel warring with each other. It’s in the tiny, cute frown lines between her brows, the unnaturally stiff way she holds her shoulders, and the constant twisting of the ring on her right hand. I smile at the memory of her telling me it’s the one her stepdad gave her for her twenty-first birthday.
We are sitting at a round table, and Katie has maneuvered the seating arrangements so she’s the farthest away. I know she’s been avoiding me; any idiot could see that, but the fact she can’t even look me in the eye is a worrying new development. I’m not sure what it means. All I do know is I don’t like it. Her expressive eyes are a portal to her thoughts and feelings, and without the opportunity to see into the dark depths, I’m lost. Tonight, there is no softening in those deep pools. They remain dark and troubled, contradicting the way her nipples instantly hardened into peaks, poking at the fabric of her dress when she saw me checking her out earlier.
I turn back to the competition winner on my right, who is still talking, and move my arm away from the lady on my left. I’m trying really hard to be polite, but if she doesn’t stop stroking my arm every chance she gets, I’m going to lose my shit. Why the fuck did I agree to this? It’s like I’ve found my way into a bad dream.
The two winners of the competition were each allowed to bring a guest. One lady brought her daughter, and the other her best friend. From the moment they walked in, squealed with excitement, and threw their arms around me upon introduction, I knew I was in trouble. Who does that when they meet someone for the first time? It’s like I’m a piece of fresh meat thrown in amongst a cage of lionesses, each of them trying to get their pound of flesh.
The lady to my right raises her voice louder, vying for my attention by babbling in an overexcited, high-pitched voice about the last time she visited Scotland. Her voice becomes more trill with each glass of champagne she consumes. I look pleadingly at Katie and Jackie, hoping one of them will save me from this hellish experience.
There’s only one thing for it: more alcohol to drown them out. I pick up my glass of champagne and realize it’s empty. Good, I hate that shit anyway, and I need something way more fortifying. “Excuse me, ladies, but I’m going to the bar. Who wants a drink?”
“Me,” Katie responds in a clipped tone almost as soon as the words have left my mouth.
“Me too,” the ladies around the table chime in, then giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls, which is frankly ridiculous because three of them look to be my mother’s age.
The one younger girl is the twentysomething daughter of the lady on my right, and she hasn’t said one word all evening. Not that she could get a word in with her mother dominating the conversation and cutting down anyone who dares to stop her flow of pointless chatter.
