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This date thing was too formal. He didn’t do formal.
By the time he got to the door he was almost gasping for breath. What the hell? Maybe she’d think he was working out instead of having a panic attack. But who worked out in jeans and a T-shirt and right before a date?
He swung open the door, and there was Everly, wavy brown and purple hair tumbling around her shoulders, curves that would make a lesser man faint, and one brow arched elegantly over her lovely amber eyes.
“When you said you were house-sitting, I assumed you meant at a
house, not a mansion.” She looked around the foyer as he stepped back to let her in, and whistled. “So your buddy from school, he’s loaded? You neglected to mention that.”
Ambrose shrugged. If she hated wealth as much as she seemed to, he was in deep shit. He was planning on telling her the whole truth as soon as she was sold on him, as a person. For goodness’ sake, he’d grown up poor. It wasn’t like he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. But still, lying to her made him feel like an ass. She deserved to know the truth, but he couldn’t figure out how to tell her without ruining everything. Especially after running away the other night.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
He took her coat and hung it on the banister, then led the way into the kitchen.
“Holy shit.” Everly turned in a circle, taking in the great room. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice the way it made him wince. “Some of this artwork alone could keep the no-freeze shelter open for months.” She went to inspect the paintings that graced the room.
It was difficult not to preen with borrowed pride, considering three of the pieces were Banner’s art, and one was Rook’s. Now, if Ambrose bought himself a Spirograph or something he might be in business, but unless the art was food-related, he was hopeless.
“They were gifts from our friend Banner and his little brother.”
“Are all of your friends rich?”
“Pretty much. Banner and Rook did the paintings themselves though.”
She grimaced. “Wow. So awkward that you’re the only one in your friend group who didn’t make it big. Does it bother you?”
Ambrose bit his lips together and tried to look thoughtful, even though dread was trying to take over. Fuck! Three minutes into this date, and things were already falling apart.
“No. They’re all self-made men. Envying someone else’s hard work and luck is pointless.” He walked into the kitchen area, trying to think of a way to change the subject. When she eventually found out about him, hopefully she would have forgotten this conversation. “Besides, I get to use their stuff.” Maybe he should just come clean now, but he wasn’t ready for her to storm out of his life. Yeah, maybe he was chickenshit, but if he just waited a little while longer, she might like him enough to accept him. Right?
He pulled out the ingredients for dinner.
“What are you making?” She was at his elbow, watching what he was doing
“Food. I was planning on doing steak with some side dishes.” He paused. “I forgot to ask. Are you a vegetarian?”
“Is bacon a vegetable?” Everly laughed. “No, you’re safe. I have no qualms about having meat in my mouth.” She glanced at him slyly, and he couldn’t help dropping his gaze to her lips.
Fuck, she gave good head.
“Behave, woman,” he growled teasingly. “You wanted a date, so this is a date. If you wanted me to shove you to your knees and use your naughty mouth, you just had to ask.”
She glared and opened her mouth in mock offense, and he couldn’t resist putting his finger in. Instead of smacking him, as he’d expected, she latched onto his finger, sucking, then nibbling on his fingertip. His cock awoke and clamored for the same treatment.
“Do you need corner time again?”
Everly stepped back, letting his finger slide free from her sexy mouth. “But, Sir, I assumed that was what you wanted me to do. Did I do it wrong?”
Fuck, that was true. She threw him off his game so easily sometimes. “No, you did it too well.”
“Well, then, Sir”—she grinned up at him—“I’ll do my very best to be . . . less pleasing.”
Ambrose had a full body urge to throw her on the counter and show her what happened to bratty little girls. Screaming orgasms, apparently. From a Dom perspective, he was sure that wasn’t right, but it was exactly what he wanted to do to her.
“What does that face mean?” She was holding back a laugh.
He pulled her close and kissed her gently. Without hesitation, she pressed against him, not balking when he deepened the kiss. They kissed for a few minutes, then he pulled her down onto the floor. They grappled, and she ended up on top of him, her legs straddling his in the perfect position to fuck. She rocked her hips, rubbing her pussy against his hard-on, through their clothes. She nipped his bottom lip, and he spanked her ass and growled at her, then rolled her to her back, thrusting against her and frustrating himself in the process. When he stilled, she groaned and tried to coax him into moving again.
