He had to swallow a groan. “Drink more water. I’m having another ouzo.” It tasted about a hundred proof and he rarely drank, but she wasn’t outdoing him.
They both slammed their drinks back. Funnily enough, she choke-coughed on her water. His ouzo had gone down smooth as glass.
They sat in silent contemplation for long seconds.
“You wanted me,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “That day in the elevator.”
As if he needed reminding of when that might have been. He didn’t because the desire had not left him since the first moment he’d seen Aaliyah.
“Yes,” he said when it appeared she was waiting for him to reply in some way.
He still did. Intensely. Even painfully.
His sex was harder than any muscle in his body right now—and he had abs of rock that could withstand blow after blow from a sparring partner.
“I’ve never had sex in an elevator,” she admitted like it was a deep, dark—even shameful—secret.
“I haven’t, either.”
“Oh.”
“I am not certain it’s as common an occurrence as romance movies would have us believe.”
“You watch romantic comedies?” she asked.
He shrugged. “My mother enjoys them. My father and I usually defer to her when we have an opportunity to watch a movie as a family.”
“That’s sweet.”
He was unaccustomed to being thought of as sweet and did not want to dwell on it. “Gene Chatsfield would have been very angry if there’d been evidence of sex that day, I believe.”
“He was mad enough,” she said dismissively.
“You don’t sound too worried about that.”
“I’m not.” Her lovely features twisted in a scowl. “I’m leaving the Chatsfield.”
He would have asked why, but Sayed’s mouth went dry as she shifted to put her water glass down on the coffee table. Her hair fell away, exposing one breast. The dark nipple under champagne-colored lace as hard and delicious looking as he’d imagined it to be.
He cleared his throat and poured another glass of ouzo. “Three years is a very long time.”
“Yes?” She blinked at him in more charming confusion.
“Yes.” He tossed back the shot and put the glass down. “Without sex. It is a very long time.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“No?” She was sexually active? That was a good thing, considering the things he was thinking about doing.
“Nope.” She hiccupped, covered her mouth and then laughed. “Sorry about that.”
He shook his head, his focus on her seminudity, not her hiccups. “It is nothing.”
“So, you’re saying you’ve gone without sex for three years?” Her voice was laced with both disbelief and shock.