The small half-circle lines around them deepened, and the corners of his mouth lifted. He averted his gaze and fixed his gaze on the man performing. After the reading was finished, Sarah leaped back on stage. For a time, we stood close, listening-or appearing to listen, in my case, since all I could hear was my heart racing quickly."It's Story Brothel time!" she exclaimed with delight. I swore she occasionally mistakenly believed she was a carnival barker or circus emcee rather than an aspiring librarian. I put my glass down on the bar and purred, "Let's find our cabana." He had also completed his.

He made a palm gesture. "You first."

I guided him into the lounge and the patio with a deliberate swing in my back and a small hip shake. After the oppressive air conditioning inside, the warm, humid Florida winter air felt like a welcoming blanket on my skin. I found the precise cabana I was looking for. It had gauzy crimson curtains hanging over a white, square mattress with white pillows, and it was adjacent to a large potted palm tree. The tempo had shifted to a rapid rap-Bhangra-Indian blend, reflecting my hypersexual mood, even if the music was calmer outside. Are you cool with this? I asked, as though inviting a stranger to lie on a bed and listen to erotica were perfectly usual. I was speaking at a half-octave above normal. The act of reading my smut out loud was new to me.

He grinned and nodded before moving ahead of me to open the curtain. I sat on the edge and delicately placed my purse next to a pillow, trying to be a lady and not throw myself inside. He shocked me by kneeling at my feet and carefully removing my shoes by placing one strong hand on my heel and another on my leg as I moved to take them off. He smiled without looking me in the eyes, and I felt a chill go up my spine.

Okay. A drop of sweat slithered between my breasts. It seemed like I had sat too close to a campfire because my legs were burning. As he stood, I muttered, "Thank you." I knew I was in a submissive position as I gazed up at him. I could blow him away without having to go very far if he unzipped his pants. Just in time to prevent me from laughing out of pure anxiety, he took a step back. In a matter of minutes, this had escalated from light flirtation to intense tension. How could I possibly read to him on the couch bed without throwing myself on top of him?

As I curled my feet between my legs and turned to give him space, I told myself to maintain some degree of control. I tucked my naked legs beneath myself instead of lying back on the pillows, like a 1950s girl at a picnic.

Keep your cool. Remain composed. Take a breath.

After a moment, he let the curtain drop. I briefly believed that he had turned and left. I observed him remove his suit jacket and carefully put it over a neighboring chair through the almost transparent curtain. I took a short intake when he undid the rest of his tie, removing it from his collar and putting it equally across the chair. I hoped he would continue.

Rather, he followed my instructions exactly, sitting on the edge, taking off his shoes, and entering the cabana. He eased himself onto his back, placed his fingers under the back of his head, stretched his arms above into a diamond, and rested one ankle over the other. I was a little taken aback by how familiar and intimate his movements felt. It was almost as though we had already done this. As though it were typical, even though it wasn't.

I pictured myself straddling him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his belt, and leaning in to kiss him while he slid his hands up my skirt and squeezed my ass. His physique appeared even larger, firmer, and more appetizing sprawled out in front of me."I'm prepared," he declared. I agree. I smiled while searching for my e-reader in my luggage. I paused to appreciate his aroma once more after catching a whiff. When I pressed a button to cause the screen to flicker, he inquired, "Do you write on your tablet?"No, I record everything on my PC and then store a backup on the cloud." I thought of stretching out beside him while I positioned my skirt so that my knees showed through the cotton of my dress. Jesus! What was I thinking? I recently met this man. Even though I was usually flirtatious, this was daring for me. I took a big breath and smelled his enticing aroma once more. Thus, the title of this tale is "Consume Me."He rolled up and rested on the elbow nearest me, saying, "Wait." I wanted to reach out and brush my hands over his short, silver-accented hair, but his chest was inches from my knees.

Pulling a phone from his pocket, he placed it between us. Then he extracted his wallet from his back pocket. He took out a twenty while he was once more lying on his back. Ten minutes. He divided the money between the two of us, saying, "Half for charity and half for you." I took it up. Thank you. It's like a literary lap dance, I suppose. He raised an eyebrow and grinned as I tucked the money into my bag. He cast his gaze at his phone. The stopwatch is being set by me. Ten minutes."You're quite accurate," I remarked.

He looked up. It's a strength of mine, as well as one of my shortcomings.

I began reading while he reclined."Talk a bit louder," Dominic cut in. I obeyed.

My story wasn't particularly spicy in the first few pages. It served as the preamble to the story, which was about a woman who enjoyed rough sex but couldn't find a man who was interested in fulfilling her desires. My character, Arianna, liked to be roughed up a little, pushed around, and manhandled; she wasn't particularly interested in rape or BDSM scenes. It was difficult, and to be honest, I was still working on a first draft and wasn't sure if I had accurately described her or if I had rushed the introduction of her to Trent, the story's protagonist.

Trent had a straightforward philosophy: he touched women without hesitation or shyness. Women constantly desired more because he treated them as though he owned them.

Dominic's ability to laugh appropriately and smile passionately in other situations was encouraging. Perhaps my narrative wasn't as horrible as I thought. I looked up every couple of paragraphs. He would frequently be staring directly at the cabana's ceiling, seemingly able to watch my story play out on an invisible screen. On other occasions, he turned his head to face me and gazed at me with that ravenous expression.

I adored the hungry expression. He slowly rolled up his sleeves to show off his incredibly strong forearms after taking his time untying his cufflinks and placing the sterling silver knot links in his pocket. I had to restart the paragraph because I got lost.

Why was every man in Arianna's life required to be so courteous? Why did they all handle her as if she were a delicate porcelain object? Mostly in bed, she wanted a man to be a man. She desired for him to dominate, snarl, and restrain her. He didn't need to inquire what she needed because he already knew, so he could take her as he pleased. She also desired a partner who was assertive outside of bed. Not so much that he would control her daily life or career-that was the last thing she wanted. However, she yearned for a partner who would make dinner reservations, be daring and make unexpected plans, hold doors open for her, and avoid the same old dull talks.

Where would you want to dine?

I'm not sure. Where would you want to dine? I don't mind being wherever.

She had had enough of that, fuck. Where were the actual decision-making men?

Dominic guffawed hard at that. His phone chirped at that very moment, and he tapped it to silence."Your time is up, sir," I smiled and said. I really enjoyed that. Your writing style is excellent. incredibly talkative. Actually, I'm quite amazed."Did you anticipate Dreck?

He shrugged. "I had no idea what to anticipate. Perhaps something akin to Penthouse Forum? But you're okay. Without the sex, that was sensual. You have the ideal voice for reading aloud as well. Your voice is lovely.

I leaned in his direction, trying to smell him again, my face flushed from the compliment. "I'm grateful. However, I missed the truly erotic part. "Normally, what do you read?"Some history, non-fiction. I also enjoy reading literature. Whoa. Typically, the men I encounter at these gatherings have a preference for either science fiction or military fiction. At the University of Florida, I majored in creative writing.

I raised my eyebrows. "You were? I was as well. We were probably separated by a few years. He brought up the year he graduated.

I mentally calculated the answer. He was probably seven or eight years older than me, as I had assumed. "Do you write?"

He gave a headshake. "No longer. It's been years since. Following college, I started working for my family's business. I attempted writing at night, but I was unable to manage both after exhausting workdays.""What do you do?" That inquiry usually made me cringe since it seemed so phony. However, he had mentioned it, and I was curious about him. And I wanted to savor his voice. He had a fast cadence and a crisp pronunciation of each syllable, creating an enticing baritone buzz. I am now responsible for the Florida state bird. Construction cranes, you know?"You're a builder, then? "Of what?"

With a shrug, he unfastened his shirt's second button, which was located just below the neck. I watched without blinking at him as he moved slowly and sensuously, perhaps only to feel more at ease. Government buildings, business jobs, and condominiums. We have numerous projects, both large and small. I just got back from Brazil because we're building a high-end skyscraper in São Paulo. These days, that is my primary project.

He was therefore as loaded as he appeared. Despite my fondness for well-dressed males in suits, I didn't typically pursue wealthy men. I just liked the way it looked. So far this evening, the only thing that turned me off was the specifics of Dominic's wealth. Money didn't impress me, perhaps because I grew up in a trailer park in central Florida. But I was intimidated by it. A great deal. Not knowing what else to say, I said, "Nice."

His hand was on his phone, and I watched in wonder as his index finger moved slowly in a circular manner across the glass screen. I'd want to hear more about your tale, Isabella.

A small wave of pleasure ran through me as he said my name. I didn't want to discuss my past, though. His laughter cut him off, "Um, I'm from a county just west of here-" "No, I was referring to your fiction. However, I also want to hear about you. In fact, I'm not sure which I'd prefer to hear more of-your true narrative or your fictional one."

I grinned because I was at a loss for words. This was exactly what it meant to back myself into a corner. Since I disliked disclosing personal information about myself, I wasn't very interested in talking about myself. I had stopped reading in front of an extremely sultry scene. I felt self-conscious as I struggled to find the right words to say after he revealed to me what he did for a job. The faux black leather on the corner of my tablet cover had torn at the edge, so I fidgeted with it. I felt something melt inside of me when he said, "Please?" I resisted the urge to touch his face, to trace his lips, to open them and feel his tongue on my finger.

My courage came back. You'll pay for it," I smiled. It was more comfortable to flirt. He reached into his wallet once more and produced a $100 bill. I pondered whether I could sit in this cabana for fifty minutes without coming into contact with him after he put it on the bed. or kissing him. Go through it.

As I read in a steady voice, Dominic alternated from looking toward the sky to looking at me. At one point, when I was reading a particular explicit passage, Dominic bit his lip and stared at me.

Was he horrified? Turned on? I sneaked a little glance to see if he had an erection beneath his charcoal-gray suit pants. Dear God, he did have an erection. A huge one.

This made me grin a little, but I didn't stop reading. He must have willpower of steel to be able to lie there for long minutes with a hard-on and not make a move to touch me. He didn't even extend a lone fingertip to my legs, which were inches from his body. It was actually kind of frustrating, and I squirmed a millimeter closer to him.

I paused from reading to catch my breath. I was fully perspiring now, between the warm Florida air and my excitement. Already, my inner thighs were slippery with sweat and my own juices. I didn't know I'd get so excited by reading out loud. Or maybe I was turned on by reading to Dominic.

"What do you think so far?" I asked, setting my tablet on my lap and trying to look serious. It was difficult keeping a straight face after reading all that.

"Well, it's interesting, at least for me, because it's from a woman's point of view. I wouldn't expect a woman to have these...uh, desires. And yet, a guy wouldn't write about sex this tenderly. It's intimate. Well, this part is. You write good sex. Sexy sex."

"Thank you." My mouth was parched, and I wondered if I should pause our reading and run to the bar for some ice water. I didn't really want to leave his side; that was the thing. I was enjoying this too much.

"But one point, Isabella. Maybe you should have a little bit more showing and less telling in chapter two, when she's about to blow him in the car."

I smirked and shot him a skeptical glance. Then I tapped on my screen, flicking back several pages. "Are you serious? I tried to show her emotions there."

Dominic sat up, folding himself into a cross-legged position. He extended his hand toward my tablet. "May I?"

I handed him the device, and he swiped, then looked up. He held out the tablet so I could see the screen and pointed to a line. "Here. I think you need to describe the tactile—the feeling of his cock in her hand—not only what's in her mind. I get the whole concept of deep POV and everything, but we need to feel what she's feeling. Does the reader really care about how she feels like she's different and wild because she's sucking cock in an SUV? No. They want to live vicariously, and that's written through the five senses."

"Hmm." I bit my lip as I pondered this. He might have a point. I looked up to see the cabana curtains rippling in the warm breeze and fought the urge to respond with a snarky comment. "I'll take it under advisement."

He chuckled, and that's when it hit me that I was talking to an intriguing man that I'd just met about sucking cock. I laughed, hard, throwing back my head.

"What? I'm sorry," he said. "It's really excellent, please don't think I'm criticizing you. You're a wonderful writer. I slipped into critique-group mode there for a minute. I guess I miss being around creative people. I enjoy the banter and discussion."

His grin was so adorable that I contemplated leaning forward on all fours and kissing him. I paused, shifting so that I was sitting on my heels, and he rested my tablet on the lounge bed. I looked around to see if anyone was walking by our cabana, and they weren't. The only sounds I could hear were the muffled voices of people reading their stories.

I glanced at Dominic, and he was wearing that foxy, knowing smile.

"What?" I asked. "Why are you—"

"Staring at you?"

I nodded.

"You're striking. That long, curly black hair. Your skin. It looks like you've never been in the sun; you're so fair. And those eyes. Dark. Almost black."

I nodded. He noticed.

"Can I ask you a personal question about your writing?"

I looked at him and tilted my head.

"Is your story autobiographical or a fantasy?" The look on his face was curious, not seductive. Which both impressed and disappointed me.

"Not autobiographical." I shrugged. "A fantasy? Maybe. Don't writers all fantasize about the things they put on the page?"

"You know what I think?" That's when he reached out to sweep away a curl that had fallen in my face. My heart pounded against my ribs.

"I think a fantasy is..." His voice trailed off.

"A fantasy is what?"

He smiled. "Well, maybe I'm feeling poetic tonight, but...I think a fantasy is what the heart whispers to silence a busy mind."

"That's...beautiful. Wow."

"No, you're beautiful. That's really why I can't stop staring." His voice was low and growly, and parts of me liquefied.

He then huffed out a little laugh. Thankfully, he didn't take his finger out of my curl. "Damn. I can't believe I just said all that. I think I just had a flashback to my emo-creative-writing days. Please excuse me."

"You're excused," I whispered. His words made my toes curl deliciously. He was also a little self-deprecating, which I appreciated because it balanced the undercurrent of his arrogance.

"But there's something about you, Isabella. And it goes beyond you reading to me about sex. I think."

"You think, but you're not sure?" I laughed, and he did, too, breaking the tension that had built up. "Well, I'm really not a woman who reads erotica to strange men. I usually read tamer stuff."

"So you're saying I'm special?" He released my hair. Dammit.

I paused, thinking of his question. "You seem smart and curious and interesting. Trust me, those qualities aren't easy to find in men."

"They're not easy to find in women, either." He let out an easy laugh. Okay, he was starting to be too good to be true. But whatever. I hadn't been with anyone in almost a year, and Dominic was too enticing. And too close to my body in this semi-private, gauze-draped, red-hued cabana. I briefly tried to remind myself that he wasn't truly my type, that he probably usually dated women who organized charity balls and shopped at Saks. If he was even really single in the first place.

But my doubts flew from my mind when I caught his scent again. I leaned toward him, feeling my legs slip against one another and my lips tingle with the anticipation of a kiss. The little smile faded, and he again reached out and tangled all of his fingers in my hair, tugging me ever so slightly toward him.

"I've never kissed a woman in a cabana before." His eyes were half-lidded and obviously sensual.

"I've never kissed a man at Story Brothel before."

"Can I be your first?" he murmured.

"With pleasure."

He licked his bottom lip and pulled me closer. His sweet and musky scent, combined with the whiskey, was intoxicating. Our lips were inches apart, and I could feel the whisper of his hot breath on my skin.

Then a shriek came from the direction of the bar.

"Dominic! Dominic!"

He shut his eyes. "Shit. That's Laura."

"Laura?" I plopped back on my heels, shock surging through me. What the hell?

"My sister."

"Oh," I exhaled. "What's wrong with her?"

He ran a hand over his short hair. "Well, from her tone, I can tell she's panicking."

"She's what? Why?"

"She has a severe anxiety disorder, and sometimes when she drinks, she has an attack. This has been going on for years."

My jaw dropped as the woman's breathy, panicked voice grew closer.

Biting his lip, his expression faded from sad to sorry. "I've got to take her home. I apologize."

He scrambled out of the cabana, and I followed on all fours, parting the curtain and peering out.

As he slid his feet into his shoes, the tall blonde woman ran up, sobbing. Several people poked their heads out of their cabanas to watch.

"Sis. Hey. It's okay. Let's get you home." He squeezed her shoulders, then rubbed her upper arms. "Give me thirty seconds, okay? Okay?"

She nodded and stammered something about how she was having a heart attack and that she needed to get to a hospital. In a gentle voice, he reminded her to breathe. When he'd first said his sister was having a panic attack, I'd been skeptical. But seeing this woman's obvious terror up close was disturbing. What had happened between her and Sarah? I climbed out of the cabana and stood next to her.

"Hey," I said in my softest voice. "You'll be okay."

Just then, Sarah rushed over. "Want me to call an ambulance?"

Dominic shook his head. I turned to him as he shrugged on his jacket. "Why don't I go with you to help?"

He paused and looked down. He seemed even taller now because I wasn't wearing shoes. His anguished eyes bored deep into mine. "Thank you, Isabella, but no."

He ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek, which sent heat coursing through my veins. Before I could say anything else, he turned and put his arm around his crying sister, and they quickly walked away, followed by Sarah.

I tunneled back into the cabana, not wanting to face the stares of the others. Flinging myself on the bed, I lay on my back, shaking, feeling more turned on than I had in years and wondering what the hell had just happened. I inhaled deeply, taking in Dominic's vanilla-oak scent that lingered on the pillows and in the humid air.

"Did you get Laura's number before she had a panic attack?"

Sarah picked out a red pencil from a pack and said, "Yep. We've been texting a little today. I think we might go out this weekend." I was arranging the books on the counter for the fiftieth time while we were in the bookstore. I was unable to release the anxious energy.

Even twenty-four hours after my erotic evening, Dominic was still on my mind. It was time for coloring, and I had been too preoccupied with work to try to locate him online. The whole therapeutic coloring trend appeals to me. It is superior to meditation. Markers and pencils, however, definitely wouldn't distract me from him.

"Poor thing. She looked terrified," I said.

Sarah shoved her purple cat-eye specs up her nose and looked up from her Zen nature pattern. "Yeah. Wow. We were having a really good time, chatting and talking about going to a movie later this week. Then she started to breathe funny. I thought maybe it was asthma, and then she said she was having an anxiety attack. I tried to get her to sit, but she lost her shit and went to find her brother. I meant to ask her where she works, too. I'll call her later."

I muttered something about how she and her brother collaborate, and then I frowned when I realized I didn't even know Dominic's last name or the name of his business. I'd have to forget about him unless he came back to Story Brothel the next month. I was more disappointed by the thought than I had anticipated. I hadn't really been searching for a man. Apart from the issues at the bookstore, I had an amazing life. satisfying. busy with job, friends, and creativity.

However, Dominic had served as a reminder that life could be even more delightful, particularly if it included a strong sexual current. I had been missing that. I let out a sigh.

A man in his twenties approached the counter and began to scratch his chest. "Dudes, do you have any animal pages to color?"

I rummaged through a pile of documents. Since it was the first Thursday of the month, my bookstore was hosting its monthly event, Color After Dark. In an attempt to decompress, hipsters, pensioners, and anxious artists who worked as theme park cast members rushed to the store to color with pens, markers, and pencils. They brought the alcohol, and I brought the supplies and some relaxing music. At Orlando, it was starting to become a big local event, and that night, a few dozen people arrived at the tables I had set up at the rear of the store.

"Here," I responded, presenting the bearded man with five distinct animal predators. He picked up a lion and walked away, saying, "Take your pick."

After sharpening her pencil, Sarah drew a frog. Sarah was the manager of the bookstore and my best friend. Since she was pursuing a PhD degree in library science, the position worked nicely with her schedule.

I inquired, "Since when are frogs red?"

She flung her long curtain of chestnut hair. "It's my frog, bitch. Don't judge."

When I heard the bells on the front door jingle, I was laughing and looking around at the tables occupied by grownups who were focused and relaxed. a latecomer. When I looked up, I saw a man smiling as he walked up to the counter.

Dominic. God, he looked even more beautiful tonight. Those cheekbones would make Michelangelo cry.

I caught Sarah raising an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye. "Who's here?" she muttered. "Surprise, surprise, surprise..."

He put his large hands on the counter and muttered, "Hey," quietly. In the strong light of my bookstore, he seemed more macho and vibrant somehow. I looked at him, silent for a moment. With his bow-shaped mouth and silvery-black hair, he looked tempting in black pants and a black T-shirt tonight. So were his biceps, which had been hidden beneath his white dress shirt button-down the night before.

Sarah said, "Hey there," as she grabbed her coloring books and gave me a stern look. "I'm going to make myself comfortable at the table. I need to spread out."

I gave a nod. My gaze met Dominic's, now alone. I tried breathing steadily to try to calm my erratic heartbeat, but it probably looked more like hyperventilation.

"Isabella, I'm sorry about last night. I'd hoped to get your number, but my sister-"

"It's okay." He appeared so nervous and contrite that I wanted to make things less unpleasant and take a breather.

"She's had those attacks for years, but they still freak me out. I feel helpless, you know? I've taken her to the hospital so many times, but there's never anything I can do."

"I can imagine. Did you take her to the hospital last night?"

He gave a nod. "Yeah. They ended up giving her a tranquilizer and sending her home. Still, I wanted to apologize."

I tried to grin and said, "There's no need to at all. I felt awful for her." "How did you find me?" I said, feeling a twinge of caution. The fact that he had made the effort to locate my bookstore both excited and alarmed me.

He smiled.

I taunted, "Are you stalking me?"

"Um, no." He took a piece of paper out of his back pocket, unfolded it, and set it on the counter. "You were in the paper. With a beautiful photo."

Books in Chapter One to Preserve Color After Dark

"Oh, right. I forgot I was in The Sentinel today."

"I opened the paper at breakfast this morning, and there you were. It was a very welcome surprise. Serendipity, even."

With a burning blush, I said, "I love that word." "So, you came to color."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh." I suppressed a grin.

"I came to ask you to read me a bedtime story."

My jaw fell open, and I looked at the tables. His suggestion had obviously gone unheard because everyone was too busy coloring. I felt sparks fly through my stomach.

I took out a set of markers and a dragonfly-patterned page and gave him a playful smile, saying, "I don't read for money outside of Story Brothel."

He chuckled. He said, "I wasn't planning on paying you. I want to take you to dinner, though." He brought up a steakhouse that I had heard about but had never visited; it was a pricey establishment housed in a posh hotel at a theme park resort.

I slid the coloring sheet and markers in his direction and said, "I'm a vegetarian." It goes without saying that I wanted to read him a story and spend dinner with him. However, I also wanted to prolong this and see where our flirting would take us. "Maybe you want to sit and color for a bit?"

He opened his mouth, and I could see by the expression on his face that he was about to mock my offer. Then he smiled. "Sure. I'll color."

I grasped him by the arm after stepping around the counter and beckoning with my fingers. I led him to a vacant seat behind Sarah and gave him a squeeze on his exposed bicep. I was aware that my hands were small, but they appeared incredibly small when they were wrapped around his bicep. I pictured myself beneath him, clinging to both of his arms as he penetrated me. My entire body felt a surge of heat.

He took a fancy-looking watch off his wrist and placed it on the table next to his pencils while he sat. "I'll try to stay between the lines."

Sarah spoke up. "You don't have to. That's the beauty of adult coloring. You can do whatever the hell you want."

They burst out laughing and began to talk quietly. I stepped back so I could sit at the counter and look at him. With the tiny silver hair strands on the sides of his head, he was just exquisite. They made him appear more edgy and stylish rather than older. He looked at me several times while I stared, and then I turned away and grinned. After about thirty minutes of this, Sarah shook his hand and got up.

Sarah yelled out, "Say hi to Laura for me," and then she moved to the counter where I was ordering books.

"Em, I'm leaving. I got the whole story on his sister," she said. She hugged me and walked out of the store, saying, "Call you later." In an attempt to signal everyone else to leave, I turned down the music and took Sarah's seat next to Dominic.

I took a breath and said, "Enjoying yourself?" and there it was. I wanted to eat his skin because of the aroma of oak, vanilla, and mint.

He tinted the dragonfly's wings blue and said, "Actually, I am. This is oddly captivating." "I don't think I've colored since first grade."

"Plenty of people say that. Then they discover it's soothing. What do you do for stress relief?"

He shrugged and said, "I run, work out, typical guy stuff." "Maybe I need to color. Maybe it would calm me down. Whatever I do, it's not enough. Work takes over, and I never feel fully relaxed, you know? But this is cool." He looked around, nodding.

"I do know that feeling." I wanted to let him know that the bookstore and coloring nights might disappear in a few months due to a recent building purchase. Rumor and an incomplete newspaper story combined to show that the new owner would demolish the property and build a massive new condo complex. I was arranging for all of the independent store owners to attend and demonstrate at the upcoming meeting over the block's redevelopment. I started to invite him, but I stopped myself. No, I didn't want to come across as pitiful or needy. Why would I bring up my fight against cookie-cutter development in downtown Orlando with a guy I just met?

Given what he did for a job, it was unlikely that he would sympathize with my plight. Instead of asking Dominic for help, I wanted to fuck him. Even before I scrimped, saved, and took out loans to keep the bookstore going, I had ensured that my business was mine.

His voice was quiet as he asked, "How long have you owned this store? I love the feel of it. "It also smells good. Like paper."

Taking a pencil, I began coloring one of the dragonflies on his paper after moving my chair close to his. With a slender pencil between his fingers, his hands appeared even bigger. I took a deep breath, attempting to push the fantasies out of my head.

"Five years. Are you from Orlando? I'm surprised I've never seen you here."

He flinched. "You know, I live right down the street. And I walk by here all the time. But I usually buy books online."

I muttered, "Hush," trying to sound serious. "You should be punished for that."

"I'm sure you'll think of some way to punish me."

I smiled. "You're a flirt."

"And you're not?" He asked with a smile that was even more sinister than mine, and I could feel the energy between us.

I bit my lip and tried to resist the impulse to rub myself against him, as my cat does with the coffee table, but I didn't answer. I pictured his fingers reaching around to caress me till I had an orgasm, and his mouth moving down the back of my neck and then down the column of my spine. His gaze darted across my face as I trembled a little.

There was a wonderful silence as we colored on the same sheet of paper. We shaded the same dragonfly once, me coloring one wing blue and him shading the other green, pausing occasionally to look up at one another. I wanted to grasp his face in my hands and just gaze into his eyes tonight since they seemed to be an even deeper sapphire blue. And because his body was taut and strong, the hints of gray hair gave him a more prestigious and manly appearance.

He placed his fingers on the back of my hand as I went for the black pencil, shooting sparks up my arm. I flipped my hand over and held the pencil out to him. With elegant precision, he removed it from me without saying a word.

It was nine o'clock, when Color After Dark usually came to an end, and people started packing and leaving. When the last person had gone, I stood up and locked the door after saying goodbye to everyone. Now that Dominic and I were alone, I turned off the music. In the midst of the silence, he got up and stood beside me at the counter. That night, for the first time, I felt uncomfortable, dependent, and uneasy. When it came to males, I was typically in control of my emotions.

Not this guy.

His words were, "So I was thinking, how about I make you a vegetarian dinner at my place tomorrow night?"

I reached for my handbag. How come he didn't ask me now? "You're willing to cook vegetarian for me?"

"You sound skeptical of my cooking abilities."

"Maybe I am, since you suggested a steakhouse."

"I figured you'd want to go to the hottest restaurant in the city."

"Doesn't mean anything to me. I've never been."

"Usually, that's where men take women to impress them. Women like flashy restaurants."

I shrugged. "The last time I went out to eat was at Taco Bus, three weeks ago."

I put my black patent-leather purse over my shoulder and giggled as he said, looking a little bewildered. "Taco Bus?"

He said, "Is it a...bus?"

"It is. I would take you, but you don't seem like a Taco Bus kind of guy."

He licked his lower lip at that. "Try me."

Perhaps he was more accepting than he seemed. However, I was only anticipating a one-night stand and a dinner date with him. That was all that was required. didn't desire it. All I wanted was his body and mouth, and then I had to let go of this small fixation with him.

"Can I walk you to your car?"

I gestured for him to follow me through the back storeroom, grinning at his archaic ways. It was just a few steps to my beat-up Honda from the bookstore's back entrance, which opened onto the parking lot. A couple of gentle raindrops fell on my face as we stopped at my driver's side door. Even though I detest getting caught in the rain, tonight I wasn't worried for some reason.

I appreciated that he was organizing an evening for us, but I thought about inviting him to my house. The hookup became more sexual and less raunchy as a result.

I could hold out. I felt like an adolescent rather than an adult lady while I waited, my heart thumping against my chest and my stomach fluttering.

I said, "Text me your address," and took my card out of my bag before giving it to him.

"I'll see you tomorrow night. Don't bring anything. I'll handle it all."

I whispered, sensing a few more droplets of rain, "No wine?" For the first time, I enjoyed the way they felt, and they were cool against my warm face.

"Nope."

"Dessert?"

He chuckled. "I could say something really cheesy and totally inappropriate, but I won't. So no, don't bring dessert. I've got it covered."

I chuckled and took a step forward. "Dominic?"

"Yes, Isabella?"

"What's your last name? I don't usually go to a man's home unless I know his last name."

"King. Yours?"

I tapped the back of his palm, carrying my business card, and said, "Hey. It's also here." After putting the card in his back pocket, he held it up.

"One more question."

"Yes, Isabella?" He murmured my name, and it felt luxurious and sensuous, like slipping into a bed of velvet.

"Are you going to kiss me goodnight?"

The corners of his mouth lifted as he cocked his head. I resisted the impulse to lick him when he leaned into my ear. I had never been so aroused before as his lower lip touched my lobe. What on earth was going on here?

"No. It's about to rain hard, and you need to get home before it turns into a monsoon. So you're going to have to wait," he whispered. "I'm not going to kiss you. Not now, not here in a parking lot, under a streetlight in the rain."

Jesus asked, "Wh-why?" I had to gather my thoughts.

His hand cradled the opposite side of my face, and his lips found my cheek, pressing them against my skin. I let my eyes drift close to relish the powerful, tactile sensation as he rubbed my cheek twice with his thumb. Although his mouth was hot, my face was hotter. I was heated between my legs, but not that hot. My limbs turned to jelly as I held my breath, and all of a sudden, I forgot about the rain in Florida.

He laughed and stepped away from me, saying, "Because you deserve to be kissed properly, in a perfect place. Like my bed."

Oh.

My brows went up. I was now even more interested and aroused. "You like to tease and be teased, don't you, Mr. King?"

"Very good, Ms. Heyes. You've picked up on that."

I smiled and took a step back. It was game time. "See you tomorrow night."