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Up until that moment, I’d been having a good time that evening. Better than I should have been. His words were a reminder that I didn’t belong in his world. He wasn’t just too rich and handsome, he was ruthless and willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Including say things like I was the most beautiful woman in the room. I’d been soaking up the attention until he said that. I knew he was just playing me for some reason.
His expression was surprised, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of amusement. He reached toward the table grabbing a napkin to wipe the champagne from his face.
I should have apologized, but I couldn’t find the words.
“So let me get this straight.” He tossed the napkin back on the table. “You’ve had no response to all the times I’ve I suggested we fuck, but the minute I say you’re the most beautiful woman in the room, then you get offended?”
Hearing it out loud like that, I knew it sounded crazy, but it really wasn’t. All the times he talked about sex was to push my buttons. His kissing me was too, and unfortunately, I’d let myself succumb to it. But I knew how I looked. I wasn’t ugly, but I didn’t compare to the women he normally went after.
“There’s a difference,” I said lifting my chin to let him know I wasn’t going to back down even though he deserved an apology.
“Really? Perhaps you could enlighten me.”
“One, your MO behavior around women is sexualized.” Except for Sara, which was why I wondered if maybe he didn’t love her even though I had a new area to explore in terms of guilt over her kidnapping and losing her child. “Two, your constant innuendo is done simply to get a rise out of me.” I was proud of how I’d never risen to the occasion, until now. “Three, I’m not an idiot. I know what I look like. Telling me I’m a goddess is cruel, even for you, Hunter.”
His head jerked back and eyes widened in shock. “Cruel? The truth is cruel?”
I scoffed. “Stop toying with me.” I wanted to wring his neck. “I’m not a goddess.”
His brows drew together, and he stared at me with his hands on his hips. “You think I’m being untruthful?”
I gave him a curt nod.
He moved closer to me, and I steeled myself for his anger or worse, his manly scent and sexiness. “There are many bad things about me, Grace.”
It was the first time I could remember him using my name. Heaven help me, I loved the way it sounded on his lips.
“But I’m not a liar,” he finished. He continued to stare at me for a moment. “I’m not lying that I’ve spent nearly every night jerking off to images of you. And I’m not lying when I say that of all the women in this club tonight, you’re the only one I’d like to take home and fuck.”
There was something seriously wrong with me that his words turned me on instead of offending me.
“Do you need another glass of champagne to throw on me?”
“No. I should apologize for that. But you desiring me when there is a room full of women you could have below us, women you’ve probably had, I don’t buy it.”
He laughed then. “Turns out I’m not the only one needing a little attitude adjustment.”
I didn’t respond, because he wasn’t wrong. I probably did need to see myself in a better light. But I knew I didn’t compare to the women below, not just in beauty but in experience, which of course, he didn’t know about.
He stepped closer again, and the heat of him made me swoon inside. Damn hormones.
He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek. “I love your eyes, Grace. They change colors, did you know?”
“Depends on what I wear,” I said, now wishing I had my champagne because my mouth was dry.
“When you’re angry, they turn green. And when you’re turned on, they turn even greener.”
I swallowed.
“You probably think your glasses are nerdish, but they’re sexy. Like cat eyes.”
Cripes.
“Your professional skirts hug perfect hips for holding during fucking. When you lean forward during our sessions, I see the lovely, creamy swells of your tits.”
God, I thought I might come from his words.
“Your mouth, God, your mouth. It tastes divine. You have perfect lips,” he said running his thumb over them. “I imagine you sucking me off, and I come so hard every time.”
My breath hitched.
“Too much?” he asked.
Yes, because I was his therapist. But I couldn’t get the words out.
“How about we dance. Enjoy the night. No pressure. Just two people who need to let off steam and could use a good time.”
I nodded because I was pretty lost to do anything else. He rewarded me with a rare smile. He took my hand, the large, warmth of it engulfing mine.
