Page 33 of False Promises

“I don’t drink,” I said, studying her while twirling my glass around, the ice cubes clicking together.

Her lips stretched, and she raised one perfectly shaped brow. “Not a problem. I can feed you other things.” She didn’t even blink when the words left her mouth.

My entire self pulsated while I pondered the offer. My dick decided on its own, not giving a fuck about my brain’s reluctance, when Savannah leaned over the table, giving me a full view of her cleavage as she wrapped her hands around mine.

It’d been a while since I slept with a random woman. One I met mere hours ago. Faced with a choice, I debated the pros and cons in my head.

Savannah was Hollywood gorgeous, and I would be stupid to refuse her invitation and walk away. Who knew? Maybe this could be the start of something good for me. Something new. Something different. The fresh lease on life I was longing for. Since Dahlia and Nick’s wedding, I had time to think, and I promised myself I would take more chances, make myself available for more opportunities. It was about time I tried a new approach to love and relationships because my old ways were clearly not working. What was I risking, other than one wasted night?

“I’d like that,” I agreed as I watched Taylor stand to pay the bill.

“Great. Let’s go then.”

We settled on the backseat of the rental Taylor drove—some sort of luxury car with a privacy partition separating the back from the front. When we drove to tonight’s events, I sat in the passenger seat—I hated sitting in the backseat when not required. Taylor was my friend, not just an employee. We were equals, and no matter my career choice or his, I would never try to act in a way that positioned myself as more superior to him.

Savannah dragged her long ruby fingernails across my chest, and I shivered. My dick thickened in my pants, ready to play.

“I’ve been dying to do this since you handed me that drink.” Savannah’s lips landed on mine. Unapologetic. With force. Full of hunger and desire.

At first, I stiffened under her touch, unsure whether I should go for it or not, but when her tongue met mine, I relaxed in my seat. She unfastened the first three buttons of my white dress shirt and licked a line from my collarbones to my chin, her hands exploring my chest over the fabric.

With confidence—a contrast to the shy personality she projected all night—she lapped, kissed, and bit my flesh.

Where was the woman standing alone in her corner earlier? In front of my eyes, Savannah Prince transformed into a siren. A starving animal ready to eat me up alive.

Every inch of me loved the attention she was providing as if she could tell what I desired.

With one swift move, I lifted her until she straddled me, her dress bunching up around her thighs.

Her eyes glimmered in the low light.

This woman was ready to offer me a night of wild passion, and there was no way I’d turn her down right now. My logical thoughts had deserted me. Yeah, I could really use the distraction.

Her hands closed around my stone-hard erection, and a loud growl escaped my lips when she tightened her grip.

She stroked me over the fabric of my pants and swallowed every sound tumbling out of my mouth.

“You like that, don’t you?” she teased.

I nodded, my throat working and making it difficult for me to talk.

With expert fingers, she lifted her dress higher around her hips and guided my hand between her legs. I squeezed the soft skin of her thighs, making her yelp as I kissed her, both of us fighting to get the upper hand. It was a battle. One I intended to win.

My fingers moved north and brushed against the warm, moist flesh ready for me. Savannah wore no underwear. Had she spent her entire night going commando, or had she removed them at the restaurant? Either way, the thought of it got me harder.

I slid one finger inside her tight channel, her warm moisture coating my finger as it dived in and out of her at a fast pace. She tilted her head back and purred. I almost came undone at the sound of her whimpers.

“God, you’re so wet.”

She crashed her lips on mine. “No talking, just fucking.”

Fine by me.

I entered a second, then a third finger inside her and curved them just at the right angle to make her moan louder.

With my other hand, I pushed the strap of her dress down and exposed her bare chest. I grabbed a handful of one of her breasts. There was nothing natural about them, but they were still a sin, filling my palm to the brim. I leaned forward and circled one hard nipple with the tip of my tongue. Savannah writhed under my touch.

The base of my spinal cord tingled.