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Throwing back the last of my whiskey, I hand the glass to Finn and head upstairs to my office to take his advice.
Freshly showered and donning an all-black suit, I use the backdoor to steer clear of the fresh paint on my way out. Quickly, I walk around the building and make my way to my Vantage parked in the alleyway.
Gunning over the engine, I pull into the oncoming traffic and head south toward SoHo. I glance at the time on the dash and decide I have time to make one quick stop on my way.
CHAPTER NINE
LAYLA
Standing in the mirror, I run my hands over the black silk hugging my curves. The plunging neckline and slit up my thigh, displaying a great deal of skin, is causing me to doubt Jorge’s opinion of this dress.
Are you sure this dress isn’t too much?
JORGE
Depends…
Are you taking a vow of chastity?
Or do you want him to be thinking about fucking you all night?
Who said I wanted to fuck him?
Please, sweetie.
You’ve been talking about this man non-stop for two days.
Wear the dress.
You don’t have time to change anyway.
Reading his text, I glance at the time.
Shit!
Text me when you get home.
Love you.
Love ya.
Sending the message, I quickly shove my phone into my clutch. Looking inside, I make sure I have my keys and—just in case—a condom.
A girl needs to be prepared.
The doorman pulls the door as I approach, revealing Tristan parked at the curb on the other side. Dressed in a well-tailored black-on-black suit, he’s leaning against a sleek, red sports car that almost looks too small for his massive frame.
His eyes hungrily roam over the length of my body as I step through the door—confirming Jorge was right about the dress—as he lifts a single, deep scarlet rose from his side. Stepping from the car and closing the distance between us, he extends the rose to me.
“You do know that’s not a parking spot, right?” I eye the car behind him.
“I promised Fred I’d only be a few minutes.” He tips his head at the doorman. His deep Irish accent catches me off-guard, and I can’t help but stare at his lips as he talks. “You look bloody gorgeous. This dress might be even more magnificent on you than the one from the other night.”
Not only does he look even better than I remembered, but his deep voice and swoon-worthy accent are enough to incinerate my panties.
I’m so fucked…
“Th…thank you,” I stammer, realizing I need to acknowledge his statement.
