Page 4 of The Arrogant One

“I would enjoy nothing more,” I told her.

There was that smile again.

The one that had rocked me in the doorway of the restaurant.

It was doing the same thing to me all over again. But this time, even my dick was reacting, my shaft turning painfully hard inside my pants.

She got settled in the seat. “When your date arrives—assuming you have one—I’ll get up so she can sit with you.”

An interesting statement.

And an even more interesting offer.

Because if I were meeting another woman here, I shouldn’t be looking at her the way I was.

“No date. I’m eating alone. Right here in the bar. You don’t have to go anywhere … unless you want to.” I paused, choosing my next words carefully. “I suppose I should say, I’ll get up when your date arrives.”

The bottom lip she was nibbling was now rubbing against the top one, once again drawing my attention to her mouth. To its lusciousness. Glossiness. Causing me to think of only one thing—the way those lips would look if they were sucking on the end of my dick.

“You should offer that, yes,” she agreed.

“Except I won’t. Because I’d like to eat dinner with you tonight.”

“And if I’m meeting someone?”

I leaned back in my barstool, removing my arms from the bar top, to get an even better view of her. “Whoever that someone is, it doesn’t matter. Stay with me instead. I promise you’ll have a much better time.”

She spread her lips wide, a smile but without any teeth, her head slightly shaking. “That’s a confident thing to say.”

“I’m a confident guy.”

At a competing restaurant, where I wascurrently semi-undercover, I couldn’t use the name everyone knew me by. It didn’t matter if I wasn’t the face of the company; the Weston brand was known everywhere, and my name was attached to that.

So, I reached out to shake her hand and said, “I’m Lockhart,” which was my birth name, used only by my mother whenever I had gotten in trouble as a kid. “And you are?”

While she looked at my fingers, I knew without any doubt that she would be joining me for dinner.

That I would know her intimately before this night was over.

And that her pussy was already mine—she just didn’t know it.

“Sadie.” The heat of her skin soaked straight into me. “It’s nice to meet you, Lockhart.”

I held on like it was the door handle, a few extra seconds than needed, and slowly released her grip.

Once I did, she traced her pink-painted nails across the bar top and said, “No date. No friend joining you. Just a quiet Thursday evening out?”

“Sometimes, I like it quiet when there’s far too much loud in my life.”

“Oh, I hear that.” She glanced at the ceiling and across the busy bar. “Except there are much quieter places to go than here.”

“Are you suggesting we go somewhere else?”

Her hands lifted to her face, and she held her chin. “You’re spicy. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not in those words, but I like your description.” I waited. “Sadie, who’s joining you tonight?”

“Are you asking because you want to prepare yourself for battle?”