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Stopping outside the restaurant, Nate takes my hand and tugs me closer until our bodies touch. His eyes darken as he twists a loose strand of hair behind my ear before pulling me in for a soft, but persuasive kiss.
“Why would I be nervous? I’m just a friend meeting your dad,” I remind him.
“A friend with benefits.”
“Not that many benefits,” I retort, playfully slapping his arm.
His hand slides effortlessly from around my waist as he holds the restaurant door open for me. I walk inside and then let him take the lead.
“There he is—far back table,” Nate murmurs.
When I look up, I see his dad and I can’t breathe.
I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the restaurant, unable to tear my gaze away from him. He stares right back at me, his expression unfaltering, the only reaction I get is a flicker of recognition in his eyes, which is enough for me to be certain that he remembers who I am.
It’s almost a year to the day since our night in Paris, but I can still remember every tiny detail like it was yesterday—his soft touch, his warm breath against my thighs, the feel of his mouth as it pressed against my clit… everything about that night is instilled in my mind because it’s all I think about.
“Are you okay?”
Startled, I look at Nate when he touches my arm.
Heat creeps into my cheeks as I try to gather my composure, but there’s no denying I’m a mess. I’m about to have dinner with my boyfriend’s father, who just so happens to be the same man who watched me strip in front of my hotel window in Paris nearly a year ago.
The same man I invited to my room, who slid his cock so deep inside my core, who made me orgasm so many times I lost count. The man I’ve dreamt over and over about finding again, just to feel even the slightest shred of what I felt that night. And now I need to walk over there, sit my ass down and pretend we’ve never met, all while remembering how incredible his tongue felt as it glided over my slit.
No, I’m not fucking okay.
“Relax, Lex.” Nate’s soft voice hums in my ear. He coaxes me forward, mistaking my hesitation as nerves over meeting his father. “You’ll be fine. I promise he doesn’t bite.”
Oh, I promise you he does.
Releasing February 1
A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author under the pen name Missy Johnson, Michelle has recently ventured over to the dark side with her debut dark romance novel, He Saw Me First.
Michelle lives in a small town in Victoria, Australia with her husband and young daughter.
When she’s not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.