Page 5

“You are not buying me a drink.” The stunning woman whose name I’ve yet to find out scrambles through her purse, pulls out a fifty-dollar bill, then attempts to hand it to me, but I refuse it.
“Keep the money. Your company is priceless.” I shoot her a grin while lightly pushing the bill back toward her. “If you insist, you can get the next one, but I’d rather you tell me your name as payment for the drink.”
“Who said I’m accepting this one?” She points at her glass, and I almost believe her poker face.
“Because I told you that you are.” And she’ll have another drink with me, trust me. The curiosity flickering in her emerald eyes makes it obvious. She wouldn’t still be sitting here if she wasn’t drawn to me.
Letting out a defeated sigh, she tucks the fifty back into her purse. “I’ll get the next one.”
I swivel around on my barstool to face her, grab her seat and pull her closer to me, making the wooden legs screech against the floor, my legs now on either side of hers. “Good girl.”
My words make her pupils dilate as she sucks in a breath.
It’s the confirmation I needed; I do affect her.
“Now will you relax? You’re so uptight.” I place my foot on the footrest of her seat.
“What are you doing?” The confidence in her voice slips away.
“You were too far away.” I hold her gaze. “Is that okay?”
“Eh, yes, I guess so, and if you’re this close no one will try to hit on me again.” She surveys the bar, biting her bottom lip between her teeth, looking less self-assured than a few minutes ago, and I bask in the effect I am having on her because I’m a sick bastard and know I’ll have her coming all over my dick before the night is through.
I pick up my drink and swirl the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass, making the ice chime against the tumbler before taking a sip of the spicy whiskey.
I’m incapable of taking my eyes off her. She must sense me watching her because when her eyes hit mine, she gulps hard and stares back, completely motionless. And fuck me if she isn’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Where the hell has she been hiding?
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she blurts out.
She’s lying to both of us, because her right eye twitched, giving herself away, but I let it slide, for now.
“How about a name, then? Or is that off the table too?”
She clears her throat, shifts in her seat, then formally holds her hand out and introduces herself. “Ari.”
I slip my hand into hers, noticing how soft her skin is. “Nice to meet you, Ari. I’m Nathan.”
Batting her doe eyes, she snaps, “Just because I gave you my name doesn’t mean I’ll be going home with you tonight, Nathan.”
There’s not an inch of believability in her snarky comment. “Are you sure about that?” I continue to hold on to her hand and give it a squeeze.
“I can assure you that’s never going to happen.”
3
ARI
“I hate lawyers,” I pant as Nathan Hart, the man I finally came face-to-face with—the man I wanted so desperately to hate but instead found myself undeniably drawn to at the bar tonight—fucks me to the edge of oblivion.
“Your pussy disagrees. You are fucking soaked, Ari.” Thrusting his hips, he slides his cock in and out of me, much faster than he was before, teasing my inner walls, his balls slapping off my ass, and I know I won’t last long as pleasure builds between my thighs.
“How the hell did I end up in your penthouse?” I moan, my breaths coming out in short, stuttered bursts, my tits bouncing up and down with the force of his powerful movements.
“Because after only two drinks you couldn’t keep your hands off me.” His words escape in quick breaths.
Shit. I don’t just hate lawyers, I hate myself right now, because he’s right. What the hell am I doing? I’m going to hell for this, and having sex with Nathan Hart was never part of my plan.
He charmed me, I swear he did.