Chapter 7 Unexpected Passion

Selene

I smile at him, teasing, “That’s assuming we’ll even be able to drive later.” As he swipes the Corvettes keys off the table. There’s a spark in the air, that charged kind of energy that makes your skin hum. I reach into my purse and pull out a sleek black business credit card—Jonathan’s—then hand it over to Adrian with a slow smile. “Use this. He gave me full permission, and I fully intend to take advantage of it.”

His fingers brush mine as he takes the card. It’s such a small contact, but something about the way his skin feels against mine , a sharp tingle , makes my stomach do a little flip.

“I do enjoy reading,” I add, leaning forward slightly. “Especially when the genre involves erotica and BDSM.” I let the words hang in the air, watching closely to see how he reacts.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. If anything, he looks even more intrigued.

Just then, the waiter reappears with our drinks. Adrian hands me one of the mezcals and I smile as I take it, watching the way his long fingers curl around his own glass. Those hands… those fingers… my brain can’t help but imagine exactly how talented they could be. I shift slightly in my seat as the thought sends a tingle through me, straight to my core and I can feel that telltale wetness beginning.

“Can we get two Blow Jobs?” I ask the waiter smoothly, not missing a beat. His eyebrows twitch up for a split second, but he nods , “And open a tab, please,” I add , before he walks off and Adrian airslides Jonathan’s credit card across the table to him . He leaves .

I turn my attention back to Adrian. “What should we drink to? Any suggestions?”

He lifts his glass. “To a weekend of unexpected passion.”

I arch an eyebrow, surprised but pleased by his boldness. “That’s… very specific,” I murmur, amused at his directness . We down our drinks, and I feel the warmth spread through me. The alcohol helps, sure, but this electricity between us is what’s really setting my blood on fire.

“How often do you visit Denver?” I ask as I watch him type my number into his phone. I can’t help but notice the way his fingers move quickly, confidently.

“Every couple of months or so ,” he replies, hitting ‘send’ and glancing up at me. “Though, I haven’t had much reason to come more often. But that might be changing.” He gives me a look that makes it very clear what he means. Or rather—who.

The heat between us isn’t subtle anymore. It’s pulsing. Constant.

My nipples tighten beneath my top as his eyes drop to my chest for a half-second. He doesn’t pretend not to look. I don’t pretend not to notice. I lean forward slightly, not shy about giving him a better view. And watch with a smirk as his eyes darken as he greedily takes in my twin peaks.

“And what do you like to do?” I ask casually, unlocking my phone when I see his text come through. The link loads quickly—and when I see the title, I freeze for a split second. “No way,” I say with a little laugh. “This is the exact book I bought last weekend. I was planning to start it this weekend.”

He grins. “Great minds,” he says, his eyes following the way my finger trails around the rim of the glass I just picked up after closing my phone.

I know what I’m doing. I dip my finger slowly into the mezcal, letting it soak for a moment before pulling it out and raising it to my lips. I suck it clean, slow and deliberate, never taking my eyes off him.

His gaze darkens further as his eyes drop to watch me suck my finger suggestively. Without hesitation, he leans forward me and grabs my wrist gently. Before I can react, his lips wrap around my finger, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, flicking and tasting it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He doesn’t break eye contact. Doesn’t stop.

The air between us thickens even more and I'm almost squirming in my seat.

“I enjoy BDSM,” he says in a low voice as he lets my finger slip from his lips. “And this book is very much down my alley, I enjoy switching." He reveals casually.

Holy shit.

I can feel the pulse between my thighs kick up a notch as my brain short-circuits trying to process how hot that just was. My thighs press together reflexively, trying to contain the sudden, delicious ache building there.

And then he stands up and instantly my eyes are drawn to the bulge in his pants again . I swear he looks even bigger. And I can't help but lick my lips.

His gaze lingers on mine as he walks around the table and slides onto the couch beside me. He’s close—closer than necessary. The heat radiating off him makes the hairs on my arms stand up.

He drapes his arm casually along the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing the back of my neck. Goosebumps rise immediately, and when he starts to trace soft, slow circles on my skin, I have to bite the inside of my cheek not to moan.

His thigh presses against mine, warm and firm. I lean slightly into it, not even bothering to play coy.

“This night’s taking a turn,” I murmur, my voice lower now, breathier.

“I hope that’s a good thing,” he says, lips curving into a grin. But there’s something else behind it now—something darker, more intense.

I take a slow sip of my drink, needing a second to compose myself. “What exactly are you hoping for this weekend, Adrian?” I ask, turning my head slightly to face him. Our noses are inches apart now.

He runs a knuckle along my jawline, soft but firm. “Let’s just say,” he whispers, “I want to see what happens when someone like you decides they are ready to be devoured, and just demands that I do it . “

My breath catches.

This man is dangerous in all the best ways. I can already tell: tonight is going to be anything but boring