knowing there would be no next time. That’d been their agreement, her one condition.
Tonight could only be an escape. A fantasy.
She couldn’t handle any more than that.
Especially with a guy who could make her feel like this. One who could make her feel
this wanted and sexy, this . . . special. She knew she was definitely not the latter
for him. Van was way too smooth and confident—a seducer. She doubted his bed was ever
cold.
He was a playboy.
He was a temptation she couldn’t afford.
FOUR
Kade Vandergriff smiled when he heard soft snores coming from his left. Oh, how quickly
a shitty day had morphed into an amazing evening. When he’d headed out tonight for
location visits, all his frustration from a completely useless session with his attorney
about their seemingly winless case had come along with him. It probably would’ve been
wise to go home afterward to let himself settle down. But he hadn’t been able to stomach
the thought of pacing the halls of his big, empty house for the night. The silence
and space would’ve made him crazy.
So he’d driven into Dallas to visit his restaurants, hoping to channel all the crap
from the day into a productive evening. But after only a few hours into his drop-in
visits, his frustration hadn’t gone away but had instead morphed into nebulous, growing
anger. By the time he’d arrived at Barcelona and discovered three of their most popular
dishes had been eighty-sixed because of the manager’s oversight, Kade had been on
the verge of a Gordon Ramsay moment.
But then Contessa had walked into the restaurant, chatting with her friend and looking
like she wanted to be anywhere but there. Kade had stopped midsentence in his lecture
to his manager and had forgotten why he was so damn pissed. He’d left his manager
without another word and followed Contessa into the dating event, having no idea why
he felt so compelled to follow her or what he was going to do once he got to her.
But when her name hadn’t been on the list, he’d jumped at the opportunity to step
in. A few minutes into their time upstairs, she’d made him forget every crappy thing
that had happened that day. He’d gotten lost in the moment, lost in her.
He glanced over at his dozing companion. Contessa had curled up on one of the sofas
in the bar to wait while he picked up the last of the food and dishes they’d used
on their rooftop “un-date,” but exhaustion had apparently gotten the better of her.
Or maybe it was the six-course meal, the three glasses of sangria, and the two bouts
of amazing sex. Even he was feeling weary on his feet, and staying up until three A.M. was not a rare occurrence with his schedule.
Not for the first time, he wished they were back at his place where he could strip
her down and tuck her into his bed for the night. Wake her up with his tongue between
her thighs because damn the woman was sexy when she came. It was like each time it
happened, she was surprised, like she didn’t think herself capable of that passionate
of a response. And for some reason, she thought she wouldn’t like kink yet had responded
to his commands with beautiful capitulation. Which, of course, only made him want
to find out just how out of her mind he could drive her. They’d only scratched the
surface tonight.
But he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get another chance. She’d laid it all out
up front, refreshing but brutal in her honesty. She’d wanted an escape tonight. She’d
wanted to use him for that, and he’d been happy to oblige. Hell, the one-night fantasy
had become his specialty lately. Not that he was complaining. He’d enjoyed playing
the third in a few scenes with his friends’ submissives at The Ranch, the private
BDSM resort he belonged to. And he’d had his fair share of casual encounters over
the past few years with kinky women, as well as vanilla ones. Fun nights. Exciting
flings.
Tonight could only be an escape. A fantasy.
She couldn’t handle any more than that.
Especially with a guy who could make her feel like this. One who could make her feel
this wanted and sexy, this . . . special. She knew she was definitely not the latter
for him. Van was way too smooth and confident—a seducer. She doubted his bed was ever
cold.
He was a playboy.
He was a temptation she couldn’t afford.
FOUR
Kade Vandergriff smiled when he heard soft snores coming from his left. Oh, how quickly
a shitty day had morphed into an amazing evening. When he’d headed out tonight for
location visits, all his frustration from a completely useless session with his attorney
about their seemingly winless case had come along with him. It probably would’ve been
wise to go home afterward to let himself settle down. But he hadn’t been able to stomach
the thought of pacing the halls of his big, empty house for the night. The silence
and space would’ve made him crazy.
So he’d driven into Dallas to visit his restaurants, hoping to channel all the crap
from the day into a productive evening. But after only a few hours into his drop-in
visits, his frustration hadn’t gone away but had instead morphed into nebulous, growing
anger. By the time he’d arrived at Barcelona and discovered three of their most popular
dishes had been eighty-sixed because of the manager’s oversight, Kade had been on
the verge of a Gordon Ramsay moment.
But then Contessa had walked into the restaurant, chatting with her friend and looking
like she wanted to be anywhere but there. Kade had stopped midsentence in his lecture
to his manager and had forgotten why he was so damn pissed. He’d left his manager
without another word and followed Contessa into the dating event, having no idea why
he felt so compelled to follow her or what he was going to do once he got to her.
But when her name hadn’t been on the list, he’d jumped at the opportunity to step
in. A few minutes into their time upstairs, she’d made him forget every crappy thing
that had happened that day. He’d gotten lost in the moment, lost in her.
He glanced over at his dozing companion. Contessa had curled up on one of the sofas
in the bar to wait while he picked up the last of the food and dishes they’d used
on their rooftop “un-date,” but exhaustion had apparently gotten the better of her.
Or maybe it was the six-course meal, the three glasses of sangria, and the two bouts
of amazing sex. Even he was feeling weary on his feet, and staying up until three A.M. was not a rare occurrence with his schedule.
Not for the first time, he wished they were back at his place where he could strip
her down and tuck her into his bed for the night. Wake her up with his tongue between
her thighs because damn the woman was sexy when she came. It was like each time it
happened, she was surprised, like she didn’t think herself capable of that passionate
of a response. And for some reason, she thought she wouldn’t like kink yet had responded
to his commands with beautiful capitulation. Which, of course, only made him want
to find out just how out of her mind he could drive her. They’d only scratched the
surface tonight.
But he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get another chance. She’d laid it all out
up front, refreshing but brutal in her honesty. She’d wanted an escape tonight. She’d
wanted to use him for that, and he’d been happy to oblige. Hell, the one-night fantasy
had become his specialty lately. Not that he was complaining. He’d enjoyed playing
the third in a few scenes with his friends’ submissives at The Ranch, the private
BDSM resort he belonged to. And he’d had his fair share of casual encounters over
the past few years with kinky women, as well as vanilla ones. Fun nights. Exciting
flings.
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