Chapter 6
Emma
I tell myself to focus on the men playing musical chairs in front of me and not the one whose cologne has me in a chokehold from several seats away. The stubborn, conceited face I’ve wanted to smack and ride, who’s now in front of my best friend at this damn speed dating event.
Dancing through my mind and on my last nerve.
“Mind if I join you?”
My gaze shifts from the sharp edges of Miles’s profile, his generous mouth, to a man in all black with a matching crop of thick hair. He’s tall and slender, a contrast to the gladiator frame tempting glances at the fitted turtleneck stretched over his chest.
Dark eyes look down at me in wait. They’re missing the warm flecks of brown I’m trying desperately to scrub from my thoughts, but they are still handsome.
Heat creeps up the side of my face at Miles’s stare. It’s overpowering, ready to call me on my bullshit for pretending to have more interest in the man across from me than I do. I press a hand to my chest and smile, present onlookers be damned. “Of course,” I say, my face splitting into a wide grin for no other reason than to give Miles the finger from feet away.
Black Suit unbuttons his blazer to slide into the seat, his eyes careful not to linger too long on my little black dress or the mesh panel that exposes my skin from my right breast to my sternum.
“I’m Spiro.”
“Emma.”
We shake over rose petals and scattered tea lights on the white linen tablecloth between us. I want to gag at the first date clichés, but I won’t complain about the floor-to-ceiling view of the snow-covered valley.
“What do you do, Emma?”
Strike one.
I pull a sip of champagne to keep my eye roll at bay. Did this event come with notecards of basic questions? I’m sure Spiro is nice, but What do you do? and Where are you from? don’t get my panties moist.
“I’m a creative director.” I leave out the lingerie part. Too many salivate the moment I say it, like it strengthens their chances of seeing what color bra and thong set I’m wearing.
A brow quirks. “Impressive. I work on Wall Street.”
“Mmm.”
Strike two.
“Where are you from?”
Check, please!
If only I’d pushed Justice to skip tonight’s organized matchmaking for room service and reruns. Jay isn’t ready to face her estranged husband, who’s currently showing every damn tooth in his mouth to Madison. She wouldn’t be seeing his charm on display, and I wouldn’t be smiling my ass off at a man who does nothing to my mind or pussy because I’m dodging the one who does.
Miles has served Trevante Rhodes for the fifteen years we hopped in and out of each other’s lives. He’s a full meal with a side of 50 Cent audacity. His quips and level of fine are a deadly combination. Forbidden fruit luring my lips to taste.
I brush my chin over my shoulder to peek at Miles, whose eyes are still on me. Justice is talking a mile a minute, but his fixed stare teases goosebumps over my skin.
How am I dickmatized over someone whose dick I haven’t even seen? I poke fun at Justice about Terrence, but this is worse. Miles and I never dated. Hell, we’re not even friends. There’s at least twenty people in the room, and it’s a miracle no one has choked under the pressure of our energy stretching across the restaurant.
You are not this sprung.
“Emma?”
“Sorry. What did you say?” Spiro is classically handsome—square face, thick brows, aquiline nose—but he’s no match for Miles.
A shiver massages its way down my back. What the hell is wrong with me?
Focus.
Spiro’s smile widens, his white teeth in contrast to his olive tone. “Where are you from?”
“Alexandria, Virginia. You?”
“Greece. My family moved to Long Island when I was little. Interested in a nightcap? Our time is almost up.” His fingers stroke over my hand. The touch is smooth, but it doesn’t spark the urge to go back to his room.
“It’s still early. Let’s see what happens,” I say.
The hostess calls time, signaling for Spiro to move to the next woman who might show more enthusiasm for gelled hair and a gold Rolex. Have I fucked bankers before? Sure, but I’m not adding this one to the roster.
Faces blend into each other as the speed dating event winds down to the last two chances to make a connection and go on a private date. I want it to end so I can get out of here—to the opposite side of the resort, where I won’t see Miles or those damn muscles wearing the hell out of that turtleneck. I need to take the edge off, preferably by edging myself to an orgasm so intense, it puts me to sleep for the rest of this trip. These hot flashes are ridiculous.
Terrence all but power walks over to Justice. They can’t take their eyes off each other, caught between silent longing. My friend did not come to play in her black blazer and curve-hugging ankle pants. The black shapewear underneath looks like a bra, a far cry from Justice’s usual look.
I try to ignore the strange ache at their reunion. There’s desire and then there’s devotion. What they found in each other is rare, the kind of love to pull at your heart with the promise of eternity.
Marriage is not in my vocabulary after growing up in a home where status trumped love and intimacy. My parents were tolerable as individuals, but as husband and wife, they were far from #CouplesGoals.
“They look good together,” Miles says, taking in the same view.
“They do.”
We put our differences aside to watch our best friends finally have a discussion and not an argument. The hurt of their early pregnancy losses and Terrence’s international work schedule made it hard to hear each other. Hard to heal. We stood by them eleven years ago when they exchanged vows, and we watched their love grow during the better times until the worst became too much to bear.
Miles takes a seat. He sighs and clasps his hands together before facing me. A smirk curls his mouth, and the weight of our tension settles back over us.
“You owe me.”
The statement hangs in the air, held up by his nerve and my curiosity.
My brow dips. I’ll bite—figuratively and literally, depending on his response. “Owe you?”
His jaw tightens, his eyes firm. “You think you can play with me without consequence?”
The silken thread of the warning tightens my nipples. Miles is playful, heavy on sarcasm, and I never take him seriously. But the edge in his tone knocks the breath out of my lungs.
It’s a good thing we’re in public. I wouldn’t trust myself not to climb over this table and maul him otherwise.
No.
Miles might pique my interest—more than any man, Carter included—but no one will have a hold on me. “You must have me confused with someone who gives a damn,” I throw back.
“You like games, Em. Let’s play—tonight.”
Don’t do it.
“What do you have in mind?” I do like games, especially the ones that tie you up.
His eyes drop from my lips to my cleavage and drag up the base of my neck. “Meet me at Ravenous in two hours. No one else. Just me and you.” He tips his head to the side. “Can you handle that…kitten?”
“Handle what?” Temptation reaches for my throat and squeezes.
The muscles in Miles’s shoulders contract as he leans forward. Large hands fold together, stimulating the veins in his smooth forearms. “Us.”
The host signals the end of speed dating. We stand, neither giving the other an inch. A challenge lies before me. The safer option would be to find someone else for the night.
My eyes leave the man whose gaze is licking my pleasure points and find Justice at the bar talking to another woman, who rubs her arm and laughs with a force that crinkles her eyes.
I drop my voice and pin Miles with a glare. “One night.”
“I couldn’t stand you longer.”
“Jay and Terrence can never know.”
“Obviously,” Miles scoffs.
“No sex.” My mouth lifts at his eye twitch. “You don’t deserve this pussy.”
“You flatter yourself,” Miles says. “You’ll beg for this dick before I’d ever fuck you.”
“Let’s get one thing straight.” I shift closer, inches away from broad lips pressed into a hard line and a goatee trimmed to perfection. “You want to play with me tonight. Consider it a gift. My vagina is perfection.” I lean back and look at the obvious tent in Miles’s pants. “Don’t challenge me. You’ll lose every time.”
I leave him pissed and with a painful erection, my head lifted and my panties drenched. I want to rid myself of our sexual tension, but I am no fool. If Miles puts it down how I think he does, I might follow him home. Ravenous’s no sex rule is a safeguard.
Time to get ready.