Their date was Friday, which meant that he would have her for the night and, if he got his way—which he knew he would—he would have her all Saturday. Maybe Sunday, too, just to make sure he was well and truly filled to the brim with his taste for Diana. He’d get his fill, she’d have all the orgasms she could handle, and they would part ways. Oh, and he would tell her that, under no circumstances would her plan to scheme for his money ever work.
Too birds, one stone. God, he loved it when a plan came together.
By the time the car returned to the sidewalk outside of the café, the tension within the car had dissipated to the point that Diana was no longer wringing her hands in her lap. When the car stopped, David opened the door and slid out, and as Diana made to do the same, he stopped her, bending down to put his mouth right against her ear.
“Wear something short and tight. I don’t want any barriers between me and what I want.”
She gasped, pulling away, but not before he caught a glimpse of the lust blazing through her emerald eyes.
He chuckled as she slipped from the car and raced inside the café.
Run away, little girl, run away. The Big Bad Wolf is going to eat you up…
The next day, his morning went to shit, and not because he was running behind or was forgetting something or even because he hadn’t had any coffee—because he had. It was because he was so fucking hard, his trousers kept rubbing against his erection, the sensitive tip of his shaft throbbing every time he moved. It was pure fucking torture.
Grunting, he threw the Financial Times on the kitchen island and closed his eyes, reaching down to grasp his cock and squeeze. He couldn’t get a tight hold on it through his pants, but he took hold of what he could, pumping through the fabric. Shit. He should have rubbed one out in the shower that morning, but he’d thought he could wait, that the tension building in his body could be abated through sheer will. Fuck that. Pinching the head of his cock through his pants only sharpened his need, though he’d hoped to alleviate some of the pressure. It only made it a thousand times worse. He was harder than he had ever been in his life, and all it had taken was memories of that one night with Diana, those stolen kisses in the back of the Escalade, and the insatiable hunger for more. So much more.
What the fuck was he going to do about it?
Tonight. He would have Diana, and she could alleviate it for him. With her beautiful mouth wrapped around him, sucking him down her throat until he came. Then, he’d slide his still hard cock inside her hot, silky channel, and he’d pound into her, fucking her, hard, until the headboard shattered.
Goddamn his fantasies weren’t helping him any. Thumping his fist against the counter, he nearly moaned in relief when his mobile rang.
The caller ID told him it was the call he had been waiting for. He answered.
“Brenner,” the voice on the line drawled.
“Astor,” David practically barked, his body still thrumming with need for one plump peach.
“She had an appointment this morning,” Astor reported, his tone clipped and all business. “A Dr. Green on Corcoran and Roberts. I am sending you some pictures for verification.”
David’s mobile beeped, indicating the photos had come through.
“Hold,” he intoned before thumbing through the screen to the email attachment. His breath caught on the first photo. It was Diana Bluth, wearing a pair of ass-hugging slacks and a soft, Kelly green sweater. Her golden hair was loose about her shoulders, and a pair of sunglasses obscured her eyes. He swallowed, refusing to acknowledge the fist of sensation opening its fingers in his belly.
“That is her,” David confirmed. “Can you tell what she was going there?” Dr. Green. He wasn’t one he’d heard of before, not that he spent time looking for Manhattan doctors. But why was she visiting another doctor so soon after the one she’d seen two weeks before? Was she sick?
Astor cleared his throat, and David immediately tensed, the sliver of concern he’d had a moment before obliterated in an instant.
“Hell, Greg,” David growled. “Out with it.”
“Dr. Barry Green… He is a specialist in obstetrics.”
Stunned, David stumbled into the counter top, his hands barely gripping the edge to keep himself up right.
“Obstetrics…” he said the word aloud, the meaning plowing through him like a tornado.
Well, now he knew what Diana had been hiding, and fuck if he wasn’t intrigued. The anger he’d expected to feel at that knowledge was not nearly as dark as it should be.
What are you playing at, Diana?
Chapter 14
The night of their date came in like a lion, and Diana was unprepared for the anxiety wrapped in excitement with a dash of fear.
David couldn’t seem to do what Diana expected. She expected him to send a car for her—that damned Escalade—but he didn’t. He brought himself, in a lean and mean Bugatti. Matte black with silver striping down the side, Diana couldn’t take her eyes off the car long enough to notice that David wasn’t wearing what she expected him to, either.
When she finally dragged her gaze from the car, she noticed the man, and she lost her ability to breathe.
David in a suit coat and tie was delicious, but David in a long-sleeved black cashmere sweater that clung to his muscles, form-fitting black designer jeans that hugged his muscular legs, and black boots that gave him that edge of “bad boy” made all her inner and outer lady parts clamor for a piece of him.
Hell, she wasn’t going to make it through dinner without getting caught staring.
“Diana, you look lovely,” David remarked, his deep timbre making her blush. Knowing she’d have to dress for work and dinner, Diana had chosen a black pencil skirt that
