“I’m glad you did,” he replied. That smug smile pulled at his lips, and so God help me, I wanted to kiss him right there.
The barman put my card back on the bar next to the beers I hadn’t even seen him pour. “So, eight o’clock still good?”
He nodded. “Or seven. Or six. I don’t mind.”
I chuckled. “Or lunchtime.”
He grinned, and he was just about to say something when the woman I’d seen him with earlier came over, clearly tipsy, and put her arm around his shoulder. “Michael, Michael, we need you over here.”
His eyes shot straight to mine.
Michael.
Michael . . .
I didn’t even try to hide my smile.
I had his first name.
“I’ll be right over,” he said, sending her off. Then he met my gaze, his cheeks tinted pink. “I don’t know who she was talking about.”
I leaned right in close and whispered in his ear. “Mmmmmichael.”
His breath hitched and I pulled back and had to bite my lip so I didn’t smile too big. “Tomorrow.” I picked up the tray of beers. “Oh, and it was a yes to the robe. Nothing else.”
He glowered at me and I laughed as I walked back to our table. Terrence, Massa, Noah, and Luke were still watching me. I chuckled as I sat down, but they were all stoic . . . or perhaps stunned was a better word. “What?”
“Should we start looking at wedding venues, or . . . ?” Massa asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, fuck off and drink your beer.”
He and Luke and Noah could take the piss out of me and rib me all they liked, but it was Terrence’s knowing smile that bothered me the most. “Just say it,” I prompted.
“You’re in over your head already,” he replied.
I motioned for him to lean in across the table. He did, and he was smiling because he knew what was coming. “Fuck off.”
“So, Mr Nameless,” Terrence said.
I smiled as I sipped my beer. “Is nameless no more.”
Terrence’s eyes went wide. “You know it?”
“I do.”
“Well?”
“Oh no. Absolutely not. I’m not telling you guys anything.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Noah said casually. “He was looking at you like you were looking at him.”
“How was I looking at him?”
“Like we should be sussing out wedding venues,” Massa replied.
I rolled my eyes because I was not looking at him like that. I wasn’t. That was the biggest crock of shit I’d ever heard.
I sipped my beer and ignored them. Until what Noah said came full circle in my head. “Was . . . how was he looking at me?”
The four of them laughed. I told them all to fuck off again, which just seemed to prove their point, so then I offered them two grand each to please shut the fuck up.
Chapter Five
Michael
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. He knew my name.
When Natalie just waltzed on over and said my name three times right in front of him, I could have just died.
And of course he heard it, and of course his smug fucking smile told me he just loved knowing it.
And don’t get me started on the way he murmured my name into my ear.
It sounded like sex. It was pure want and lust.
How could one word derail me like that?
One fucking word and my body wanted to lean into him, closer, pressed in tight, and let those very talented hands do whatever they wanted. One word was all it took.
It was obscene.
So he’d won the name game. He knew my name—my first name, at least—and I still had no clue about his.
He may as well have whispered ‘checkmate’ into my ear instead of my name.
Christ.
And now he was about to turn up at my place. Six o’clock instead of eight, because apparently waiting eight days instead of seven was far too long. For both of us. Not just me, thank you very much. When I’d suggested an earlier time in the bar last night, he’d jumped at it.
I was starting to think he was as into this arrangement as I was.
And I had to admit, seeing him at the bar last night did something to me, wearing those tight black jeans and boots, but his T-shirt with the black metallic black stripe across the sleeve and the back—I think I remembered it from an Armani collection. Or maybe it was Amiri . . . Any-fucking-way. It was hot as hell.
He wanted me in my robe when I opened the door. And I considered maybe not doing that to try and take back some semblance of power after the name thing, but who was I kidding? He clearly liked me in my robe, and he clearly liked the feel of the silk under his hands, and I very much liked that too.
At 5:53 my intercom buzzed.
He was early this time.
I opened my door and he stood there in a goddamn Purple Rain T-shirt, those black jeans that were made just for him, and a different pair of black boots. He was clearly a fan of Alexander McQueen.
“Love the boots,” I said.
“Love the robe.”
I stood aside and he smirked as he walked in. But he didn’t go far. Just enough to step inside, and when I closed the door, he pushed me against it, and with a gentle fingertip, he lifted my chin. My breath caught, his face just an inch from mine, his brown eyes as dark as night.
“Eight days is too long,” he whispered before claiming my mouth with his own.
He was not timid, nor was he tender.
He was rough and ready, pushing me against the door with his body, raking his hands everywhere he could reach. He was already hard, and I was on fire with want and need.
He hoisted me up onto his hips, I quickly wrapped my legs around him, and he carried me to the couch where he all but threw me on to it. He was quick to climb on top of me, his hips searched for friction, and I finally pulled my mouth from his. “Not here. I need you inside me.”
He shivered and I slid out from underneath him, took his hand, and led him to my room. Only when I got to my bed, he turned me around, and leaving my feet on the floor, pushed me face-first onto the mattress. He lifted up the robe, the smooth silk sliding over the heated skin of my arse.
“Oh fuck,” he breathed.
“Yes, please.” Just like this, right now, just fucking take me. “Like this.”
I blindly tried to reach for the condoms and lube but he took my hand and, pressing me into the mattress, held my wrist above my head. He whispered behind my ear. “Don’t move.”
Fuck yes.
His cock was a huge bulge in his jeans and I tried to lift my arse, tried to get more of it, and he chuckled as he pulled back. “Eight days is too long for you too, huh?”
“Stop talking, and fuck me.”
He froze, and I wondered if I went too far.
But then I heard his zipper and then he was on top of me again, his delicious weight on my back and hips, his cock slid between my arse cheeks, and he breathed into the back of my neck. “Be careful of what you wish for.”
I tried lifting my hips, but he had me pinned. Goddammit. “You’re still talking.”
He chuckled and bit my neck, hard. It was a jolt of pain against the pleasure and then his weight on my back was gone, but his legs were still between mine. I heard the foil of the condom wrapper and the lid of the lube snap, then slick fingers were on me and in me.