I watch her in silence for a few moments, and she watches me. She tries to look uncomfortable under my gaze, scowling at me, but I can see straight through the scowl and into her real emotion. She’s enjoying this, I see. Enjoying this more than she wants to let herself. Enjoying this as though this is the first time in a long time she’s let herself be looked at like this by a man.
Then she tilts her head at me, biting her lip, and my cock presses hard against my jeans. She’s too sexy. Flowing red hair and her thin, petite body, her long legs, her breasts covered only in a bra with straps constantly falling over her shoulders.
“Aren’t you going to ask about me?” she says, releasing her lip. “Aren’t we going to talk?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Do you want to talk?”
She giggles, and my mind is filled again with dirty scenarios, imagining her giggling when I do things to her, imagining the way she’d giggle if she was bent over my desk and I started stroking her clit, biting her tight ass, tickling and pleasuring her at the same time. She’s driving me mad. Driving me completely insane.
Then her phone buzzes. She takes it out, looks at it, and then quickly locks it.
“Something wrong?” I ask because her face is caught between a smile and a frown. She’s infinitely more complex than other women I’ve known, whose faces are always locked in one or the other, never torn between the two as though an inner battle is painting itself on her face.
“No, not wrong. I texted my friend before we left, let her know who you were and what you looked like, just in case—”
“I killed you and hid your body?” I finish.
“Exactly,” she says. “And now she’s just text back saying: ‘Oh, he sounds dishy, I’m jealous.’”
“So?” I say. “Come on, Red, you have to admit you’re punching above your weight with me.”
She lets out a gasp. “You’re joking!” she exclaims. She slaps my chest, playfully. What are we doing? Are we flirting? Actually flirting? Not the stuff I do with waitresses and the like, but actually flirting? “She thinks you sound handsome.”
“Well, if she ever meets me, her suspicion will be confirmed.”
“Are you always such an asshole?” she shoots. “Is that why those big brutish men follow you?” She strokes her chin. “I’m still puzzling over that, you know. Some of those men look like huge beasts. Why do they follow you?”
I smile: always smiling, cocky, that’s the best way to be. “It makes you wonder what I’m capable of, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” she says without pause. “It does. You say you’re into legitimate business. Fine, I’m not sure if I believe you, but fine. But if it is true, how did you persuade all those men to go along with you? I’m sure it wasn’t easy. So, yes, it does make me wonder what you’re capable of.”
“And it intrigues you,” I go on. I step closer to her. I’m close enough now that if I wanted to, I could lean down and kiss her. But I don’t. I just stare down at her. “It makes you wonder what it would be like to be with a man who could boss around so many scary men.”
I watch her neck shift as she swallows. Her cheeks are amazing; they turn red constantly. It makes her look fresh, alive. I imagine her bouncing up and down, her petite body infused with mad lust, mad life, and her pert breasts bouncing with her. I imagine taking her hard nipple into my mouth, sucking it until it is harder.
“Maybe you’re wrong,” she whispers. “Maybe I’m scared.”
“Maybe I am wrong,” I admit. “But I don’t think so. I think coming out here was the best thing you could have done.” I lean down, and she stands on her tiptoes. She wants it. She wants it bad.
And so I step away, breaking the heat. Let her wait. Let her get wild for it.
“I thought you wanted to talk.” I grin.
She shoots a pouty look at me, looking cute and vulnerable and strong all at the same time. “I do,” she says. “I don’t know what you think just happened, but it was nothing—nothing at all.”
“Nothing at all.” I nod, but we both know that’s a lie.
Something is happening here. My balls are aching, desperate for a release. And it’s more than anything that’s happened with other women. Eden’s different.
I realize with a shock that I really do want to talk, really do want to learn more about her.
It’s so unlike me that I suck in a breath through clamped-tight teeth.