Page 18 of The Heartbreaker

What that earned me was her arms. They wrapped around my shoulders, her hands diving into the back of my hair. And as our kiss deepened, her back arched, and her fingers slid down my neck and onto my chest, the tiniest moan coming from her throat.

That sound told me it was time to ask an extremely important question.

As I pulled away, I watched her eyes gradually open and her breath come out in quick exhales.

But I didn’t let go.

If anything, I held her harder.

“Did that give youyouranswer?” I said.

She didn’t immediately reply. “That you’re one of the good guys?” She let out a single laugh. “Or that your mouth is the most addictive thing I’ve ever tasted?”

A response that couldn’t have been more perfect.

I chuckled. “That leaves only one more question, then, Addy.” My hand rose to her face, palming a cheek that was flaming red. “Do you really want this night to end?”

“What are you asking?”

I touched her lips again, reminding me of just how good that kiss had been. “You’re the one with the car. So, do you take me back to the club to meet up with my friends—if they’re even still there—or do you leave me here to order a rideshare”—my other hand lifted to her side, stopping in the middle of her navel—“or do you come home with me?”

FOUR

Addison

“You’re coming inside … aren’t you?” Ridge asked.

Once I shifted into park, he was looking at me from the passenger seat of my car. The engine idling in his driveway, my finger now hovering over the button to turn off the ignition.

If that kiss in the restaurant hadn’t completely blown me away, I wouldn’t be here.

I wouldn’t be staring into his eyes.

I wouldn’t have been so turned on by the thought of what those lips were going to do to me that I’d agreed to something as foolish as going home with him. But here I was, sending all the wrong messages, going against all the promises I’d made myself.

Who am I right now?

I didn’t know, but I was just going to go with it until my gut started to tell me not to, and so far, during the drive to his mansion, it hadn’t whispered a word.

I hit the button, and the engine turned off. “Yes, I’m coming inside.”

I unbuckled my seat belt and followed him to the front door. His thumbprint pressed against the tablet on the side of the lock, which got us into the foyer, where I immediately glanced up to the ceiling. A height that seemed at least several stories tall. A grand black staircase wrapped around the back side of the entryway, a glass catwalk across the middle, and pendant lighting highlighted several pieces of art and sections of the stairs to make them focal points. As my stare lowered, I could see to the other side of the house, where the windows overlooked a pool, the water lit up a bright blue. This was probably only a tenth of his home, and I was already completely blown away.

Our eyes locked, and I asked, “What kind of job did you say you have that pays you so well?”

He was smiling, laughing even. “I didn’t say.” His hand went to my lower back. “Let’s get you a drink.” He led me into a big, beautiful kitchen, decorated in a dark emerald green with gold and black accents.

Whatever this man did, he did it very well.

“Wine? Beer? Alcohol? What’s your thing?”

“Rosé.” I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I tucked them in the pockets of my sweatshirt. “But I’m guessing you don’t have any, so I’ll go with white.” I grabbed his arm as he went to take a step. “If you don’t have an open bottle, please don’t open one for me. I’ll honestly drink whatever.”

“How about I open a bottle of white for the both of us?”

“You drink white wine?”

Most of the guys I knew wouldn’t touch wine—red if it was a must, but never white.