As far as breasts went, he’d always thought that while they were all equally fun to look at and play with, none would ever compare to the large, perky fake boobs the internet and magazines splashed about. Until he’d met January, that was. She’d ruined him for all other boobs. Hers were covered, just the very top of their swells visible over the leopard print dress she was wearing, but he was hard at the memory of her perfect tits in his palms and the sweet moans she’d made while he’d sucked her nipples.

“This was delicious,” she praised before she set her fork down and took a sip of water. “How did you find this place?”

He followed her gaze around the room to the dim lighting and shabby interior.

“My mother was Greek. This was her favorite place to eat when we came into the city.”

“How long ago did she pass?”

“Ten years ago.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. My mother died when I was five. I don’t remember much about her, but I miss her every day. I can’t imagine what it would feel like with twenty more years of memories.”

“One might argue that I’m the lucky one in comparison since I got so much more time with her.”

She shrugged and stared down at her plate. “Maybe.”

“Tell me more about growing up with a politician for a father.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and her chest rose and fell as she let out a deep breath. The look on her face was soft, young, and vulnerable.

“It was exciting and fun sometimes. There were lots of fundraisers and events, which meant traveling, meeting new people, and getting new dresses.” She looked down at her dress and then back up at him with a big smile. Then she leaned back into the chair and placed her hands in her lap. “Other times, it was exhausting. As I grew older, I had less desire to be paraded about and the people began to blur together.”

“How do you mean?”

“They were all the same. They all had the same likes, the same interests, the same hopes and goals. And no one was allowed to have a different opinion.”

“And you did?” he asked with a smirk, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

Nodding, she opened her mouth but closed it without speaking.

“I like different,” he reassured her and found her foot under the table with his.

She rubbed her foot up his leg, her perfect breasts rising and falling with her breathing, and then pulled her foot away and sat up straight in her chair. “That’s crystal clear.”

“Would you like dessert?”

Shaking her head slowly, she smiled and set her napkin on the table.

He scribbled his name on the check, stood, and reached for her. He barely waited for her to slide her hand in his before he turned, nearly dragging her outside and into the parked car along the side street.

The drive to his apartment was quiet. Brecken navigated the busy streets without thought—all his brainpower was devoted to getting January home and back in his bed.

The apartment was dark and chilled as Brecken pushed them inside. Dropping her hand and crossing the room, he turned the fireplace on with a press of a button and light and heat began to radiate through the room. Slowly, he turned to face her, only to find her already watching him. They both froze—eyes locked from their respective sides of the room and feet glued in place. It was a standoff, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Despite his burning need to rip that dress from her body and sink deep inside her, Brecken hesitated, wondering if he was making a wrong move.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked, shrugging out of his suit jacket and laying it on the back of the couch.

A slow shake of her head had her hair drifting over one shoulder as she stepped forward, her heels clicking on the floor.

It was the only invitation he needed. He crossed the room to meet her halfway. Threading his hands through her soft hair, he crushed his mouth down to hers and groaned as her tongue darted out, eager to invade his mouth.

Before he could back her up against the kitchen island, she had his pants undone and was pushing them down around his hips. Fumbling with the zipper on the side of her dress, he cursed under his breath and pulled back from the kiss and looked around the kitchen.

Searching for something that could help, he grabbed the scissors from the knife set and kneeled before January. “If you have any objection to me cutting you out of this dress you better speak up fast.”

She laughed, and he positioned the sharp edges at the hem and carefully cut the material from the bottom to the top in between her breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one.” He tossed the scissors aside and picked her up as he stood.