Page 11 of Hate to Crave You

A few moments later, as he followed her and the hostess to a table, he was treated to an intoxicating inhalation of her scent—and a delightful view of her ass under the narrow pencil skirt she wore. Pencil skirts—he loved them. As she slid into the plush, padded booth with its high back, he entertained the brief fantasy of slipping the skirt up over her ass and burying himself deep inside of her.

His trousers tightened uncomfortably and he casually slid a hand into his pocket, hoping to disguise his sudden arousal. “I’m going to make a quick run to the washroom,” he said, nodding at the hostess and Julianna. “Order their best scotch for me, would you? Straight up, no ice.”

“Of course.”

He ducked into the restroom and pulled out his phone, making a couple of discreet calls, watching the time so he didn’t spend too long taking care of the matters at hand.

He would have liked to be more thorough, but he was under a time crunch as it was, so he left the rest of the matter in capable hands and slipped out of the restroom just as a scotch was being put down in the empty space opposite Julianna. She spied him coming and to his pleased surprise, she greeted him with a smile.

That was a start.

There was business to see to, but he’d never minded mixing business with pleasure.