Nichole Richards is currently living her best life.
She's single and mingling, has an amazing group of friends, and business is booming for her bakery business. Things only take a turn for the worst after she discovers that someone from her past ha...
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02 | LUST
Twenty minutes of conversation and three drinks later, Nichole is almost 99.9% sure that she's going home with Ademar Rodriguez tonight.
Before renting out a private room with him on the second floor of the club (in order to have some privacy and also get to know him a little better because he's actually interesting), Nichole had wrongfully assumed that her good-looking dance partner was nothing but a pretty face and suitable candidate for what would hopefully be one hell of a one-night stand.
After sitting down and actually speaking with Ademar, however, Nichole is pleased to find out just how wrong she'd been about the man... a very handsome looking man who has yet to stop eyeing her like she's a tempting piece of cherry pie that he can't wait to bite into.
"So, you're a construction manager? Tell me something, do you stand by on the sidelines and shout orders at your workers all day, or do you actually go out and get your hands dirty with them?" Nichole flirts, pausing for a bit to take another sip of the fancy champagne that Ademar paid for. "I assume you've gotten your hands dirty at some point, right?"
Ademar chuckles, peeping Nichole's game from a mile away. He boldly reaches over to lightly tangle his fingers with Nichole's free hand that rests between them on the loveseat they're sharing. Although the room isn't warm by any means, Nichole can't help but feel insanely hot all over.
"Occasionally, yes, for certain projects I do go out and join my men in the field. And you'd assume right that I have gotten my hands dirty before, plenty of times and in various ways. Speaking of which, I'll have you know I'm very good with my hands... and also with my mouth, my tongue..."
"Okay! You can stop right there. I'll let you know if or when I need a demonstration." Nichole giggles, feeling absolutely smitten. She sets her drink aside before dragging her eyes back to her and Ademar's conjoined hands. "I like how you say exactly what's on your mind," she whispers. "You have no filter. Most guys are so focused on trying to make sure they say the right thing in hopes of getting some play by the end of the night that they forget to live in the moment and just be themselves. You're refreshing. I appreciate that."
"And I appreciate you in this dress," Ademar smoothly replies. He takes his free hand to reach over and playfully tug at the hem of the tight lacy material, his hand dangerously close to Nichole's throbbing center. "A little short for my liking, but sexy as hell nonetheless."
Nichole raises a brow. "Don't tell me you're the type who likes to police what your woman wears."
"Not at all." Ademar pulls his hands back, his other one still holding onto Nichole's. "My woman can wear whatever she wants... but when it comes to other men looking at her in ways that might cross a line they know they shouldn't be crossing, I'd like to think that I can't be entirely faulted for kicking someone's ass when they step to her the wrong way. That's all I'm saying."
