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6
“And that is how I got into graphic designing,” the good-looking blond man in front of her said. Max, early thirties, never married and a Capricorn.
Brit crossed her legs and uncrossed them under the table of the modern Mediterranean cuisine bistro. She reached for her water, trying to calm her nerves, for the second time. For the last forty minutes, they’d talked about their lives, and she’d mentally reminded herself any woman would enjoy talking to a nice, sensible man with a steady job and great hair like Max.
Why did she act like she was about to get nauseated? She leaned in, bobbing her head and pretending to listen to him and not the evil voices in her head. Because this isn’t right. He isn’t Damian. She’d been so worried about making the wrong choice by sleeping with Damian, but his absence only reminded her how right he’d been for her. At least they shared chemistry.
“Brit?” Max reached for her hand across the table. “Are you with me?”
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “Yes. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe I’m here with you, this week seemed endless.”
He smiled. “I understand. Lara told me you’re very close.”
“Yes. I’ve been lucky in forming a really good group of friends. My girls are really amazing.”
He took his glass of Chardonnay to his lips. “So are you, Brit.”
She drew in a breath. God, she should probably tell him she wasn’t ready for a date. No, maybe she should wait until the end. Why make things awkward now? “Thank you,” she said, and took a bite out of her seafood dish to keep from saying anything else.
I need to invest in a therapist once I make money. She’d always cursed the men who were slippery and ill intentioned, like the moron who got her mother pregnant and took off. Yet she ended up falling for a similar type to Eddie, who left her on her first trimester.
Perhaps Damian being so upfront about his limitations meant authenticity. Either that or she really sabotaged herself. Why couldn’t she feel attracted to a sweet guy like Max?
She focused on her food, cowardly hoping the awkward silence would do her job and tell Max she wasn’t interested. Then, her gaze strayed from him to the other tables. Mostly occupied by business types. She sighed, and opened her mouth to ask him a non-personal question to be polite when her jaw dropped a bit.
Her heart slammed her ribcage.
Only a couple of tables down from hers, sat Damian in the flesh. He’d just ordered from the waitress.
She jerked her head to the other side, clearing her throat. She’d told Adriana where she’d eat as they made small talk in the morning. Had the nurse mentioned it to Damian in passing, or was it a coincidence? He usually ate at the hospital cafeteria unless he had more time on his schedule, which didn’t happen often.
What the hell? “So what do you like to do on your free time?” she asked, lasering her focus on Max. Poor Max, who had been nothing but attentive and cordial.
“I like reading, playing tennis, hiking. How about you?”
“I like…” she started, and glanced around them. What if she imagined things and Damian wasn’t really there? Hope stabbed at her, and she stared at the exact place she’d seen him seconds earlier. Her gaze collided with his, and she shuddered. Nope, this was no hallucination. The man gazed at her blatantly, with an intensity in his eyes she’d never seen before. Should she ignore him? Casually wave and get on with the day? She bit the inside of her cheek and looked at Max. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” she said, and surged to her feet before she heard his reply.
Some cold water on her face would help her find some clarity. She’d explain to Max she simply couldn’t date him or anyone until this stupid… crush she developed for Damian cooled or passed. Wouldn’t be fair.
She dashed through the restaurant, zig-zagging between tables until she found the sign for the restrooms. Rather than male or female, three different doors led to gender neutral, single stall lavatories. She twisted the door handle of the vacant one, entering the dimly lit area, catching a whiff of a pleasant fragrance of warm vanilla and wildflowers.
She turned to lock the door, when she bumped into a muscly wall. She yelped.
“Shhh…” Damian closed the door behind her.
She stepped backward until her ass pressed against the cool granite countertop. “You’re crazy.” What are you doing here? The question burned at the tip of her tongue, but deep down she knew a different kind of fire had brought him there. Excitement arrowed in opposite directions through her body, so hard and so fast she felt lightheaded.
“Right now, I’m crazy,” he growled, erasing the gap between them. Within a breath of her, he hooked his finger under her chin as if to make sure she read the desire in his eyes. Even with the dim lighting, she saw enough craving to weaken her knees. “Insane. A fucking lunatic.”
She parted her lips, and a furtive moan slipped out, filling the room. He dipped his head and captured her lips with his—or perhaps she had inched closer and wrapped her arms around his head, kissing him like she was in the death row and he was her last meal. And what a meal…
He dominated the kiss with vigorous strokes, but behind his veiled power lay an undertone of needy desperation. She matched his urgency, wrapping her legs around him, her thighs trembling, her heart galloping out of her chest. God, Damian was… he was air and light and water. He became all she needed.
He nipped her lower lip, then slid his hand down her body and hiked up her dress. She quivered, her flesh heating under his command. When he slipped a couple of fingers into her underwear and pulled it down, she whimpered. “You’re so wet for me,” he said into her ear, his hot breath sensitizing all her nerve endings like a teasing feather.
He lifted her onto the granite countertop and traced a path of kisses from her mouth to her neck down her chest. Even over the fabric, his tongue seared her, tightening her nipple and burning her bloodstream.
He buried his head in between her legs, and she threw her own head back, touching the mirror. Growling, he lapped his tongue at her sex, French kissing her most intimate part and provoking a stir to shoot up her body and sizzle every cell in its path.
