Desta stood, too. “I could eat.” She’d worked right up until leaving her house a little after three this afternoon. It was almost seven thirty now.
“Then, let’s go, Dear Lover 1288.” Offering her a bent elbow, he smiled bright like he’d just won the lottery.
She certainly wasn’t worth millions of dollars, nor did she like thinking of herself as any type of prize, but she did hook her arm in his. “I think we know each other well enough to forego those usernames now.”
“We probably know each other better than any of those people in that room.” He’d started walking toward the coat-check desk.
“I guess you could say that.” Maurice moved quickly, turning to face her, cupping a hand to her chin.
His gaze held hers as if they were both searching for something they’d never seen before. A tingle began at the base of her neck, moving quickly throughout her body until she felt alive in a way she never had before.
“I might not know the exact odds of this happening, but I’d say they were definitely in our favor.” He moved in slowly, like he wanted to give her time to decide if she wanted what was certainly coming next.
Did she want it? And from him, no less?
Her answer was to remain still, to wait and see how this would play out. It began with a warm brush of his lips over hers, and the desire she’d felt upon first seeing him expanded. It flooded her mind and her body until she couldn’t help but lean into him. His eyes remained open and fixated on her as he eased back slightly, then came in again, touching his lips to hers once more. This time there was no retreat. He slipped his tongue inside next, and all thoughts of odds, words and champagne flutes fled her mind.
He’d planned to wait. Tonight was supposed to be for getting to know Dear Lover 1288 better on a face-to-face basis. Did she fidget when she talked? Was she as pleasant in person as she’d been via email? Did she talk while chewing? That kind of stuff. But then, when he’d learned it was Des...well, he was counting that as a win. He already knew she had perfect table manners, almost to the point of being annoying, especially when she dabbed her napkin at her lips so daintily. She was always composed, so no fidgeting. No tripping over her words, just concise statements, eye contact and an air of confidence that he admired. All of that meant there was no need to wait a polite amount of time before getting his hands—and lips—on her.
Especially not when she’d laced her arm in his, standing so close the heady sophisticated scent of her perfume permeated his senses. Coupled with all those words they’d shared via email, it was a wonder he hadn’t actually pushed her dress up and buried his face between her legs the way he’d written he was going to do.
For now, the kiss was enough, especially since she’d leaned into him with as much anticipation as he felt swirling around the pit of his stomach. Craving more of her, he let his hands slide until they were at her waist. Then he eased them down to grip her hips and hold her steady against his unabashed erection.
“Well. Well. Well. There goes my bar partner.” Rousing laughter accompanied with clapping had Des breaking the kiss.
“Kelli? Hey.” She stepped back from Maurice, touching her fingers to her lips before dropping her arms to her sides.
“Hey, girl.” The redhead came closer, her giddiness still apparent in the way she looked from Des to him. “Here, rub my hand so I can have the same luck as you.” Never taking her gaze off him, the woman reached out so Des could touch her hand.
Des—in a move that was way too similar to what he would’ve done—ignored her hand. “Yes. This is my meetup, so I won’t be joining you at the bar tonight.”
Kelli, who obviously didn’t mind Des not playing along with her, returned that hand to prop on one hip. Her gaze was hungry and assessing, and Maurice felt uncomfortable only because his dick was hard but not for her.
“I don’t blame you at all.” Kelli was very open with her appraisal of him, but it was nothing Maurice wasn’t used to.
“If you’ll excuse us, Kelli, we’re going to have dinner,” he said. What would happen after the meal was completely up to Des, but he was leaning toward them sharing one room instead of returning to their individual spaces for the evening.
Kelli’s smile was agreeable and knowing. “Sure. Dinner. Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you two around.”
Glancing over her shoulder she winked at Des before giving Maurice one last head-to-toe look of appreciation. “Have fun, y’all.”
“You sure made friends fast,” he told Des after Kelli was gone.
Still staring after the woman with an incredulous scan, Des shook her head. “She approached me, but I get the impression she’s harmless. This is her second Dear Lover meetup.”
“So she’s experienced.”
“That or she’s unlucky in the guys she’s choosing to socialize with.”
They fell into step again, this time without him touching her. Another public display like the one Kelli had just interrupted wasn’t a good idea, and while he didn’t make a habit of hiding from the media like his siblings—he couldn’t in his line of work—he wasn’t game for his private life being on display unnecessarily.
Stanley, the guy at the coat-check desk, was quick to accept their tickets and return. He also made no secret of how he hated the moment when Maurice helped ease Des’s long wool coat over her shoulders. Normally, Maurice didn’t feel any type of way when another guy looked at his date. He was drawn to beautiful and attractive women—that was no secret—and he
