Trace of Innocence (No Control Book 3)

Chapter 8

(No Control - 8. Kiss You)

"Sure, why not," she says and I inwardly breathe a sigh of relief.

"Great! I'll call my driver and get him to come and get us." I quickly call Paul before she can change her mind, and ask him to bring me a clean black shirt. "He'll be about 15 minutes," I tell her when I hang up. "Come on, let's grab a quick drink in the kitchen."

"I'll be on the floor!" she says with a trace of innocence, but my dirty mind goes into overdrive. I can't help raising an eyebrow at her flirtily and she acknowledges it with a cheeky smile. There is no one in the kitchen when we walk in, and I walk over to the drinks selection.

"Shot?" I suggest, holding up a bottle of Jagermeister and praying she isn't going to insist on another cocktail. She'll definitely blow me out if I attempt another concoction.

She pulls a face. "Gross! That stuff tastes like cough medicine!"

"Well what then?"

Please don't say a cocktail.

She comes and stands next to me, looking at the bottles and I get a waft of her perfume. My heart skips a beat. "Cherry brandy?" she suggests.

"That's a girl's drink!" I pout, but I'm so relieved she doesn't want a cocktail that I'm not really bothered.

"I don't really like shots," she says.

"Go on then," I nod.

"That took a lot of persuasion," she teases.

I laugh, feeling giddy. "You're a cheeky one aren't you!"

"Sometimes," she winks.

Right, that's it, she is definitely flirting and I am definitely making a move on her before we leave this house.

We each down a shot of cherry brandy and it's fucking rank. I pull a face involuntarily, but so does she, and we laugh simultaneously. "Another?" I suggest, but I'm hoping she'll choose something different.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Styles?" she says, pretending to be outraged.

"That is a completely unfounded accusation which I resent deeply," I tease. But yes, actually I am. Not in a creepy way though.

"Yeah right," she shoots at me. "You may have an angelic face but that's as far as it goes." She gives me a defiant look and I feel like she's waiting to see how I respond.

I maintain eye contact and take a step towards her, my heart rate increasing slightly. I hope again that I'm not reading this wrong. I really don't think I am. "I have an angelic face, huh?"

"Apparently. Most of the female population seem to think so." Damn she's so casual. She's not giving an inch.

Come on Jess, give me a clue. I don't want to make a dick out of myself.

"And what about you?" I ask.

"What about me?" she says coyly. She's not making this easy for me. My heart's pounding now. This is intense.

"Do you think I have an angelic face?" I ask her slowly, leaning closer to her almost without realising. She's like a magnet, drawing me in.

"I think you're hot," she says, and damn it, she drops her gaze to my lips.

She just said I'm hot. SHE JUST SAID I'M HOT! I want to punch the air with my fist. 

I smile at her and she looks up into my eyes. This is defintely a come-on. I can't be misinterpreting these looks.