“Oh, sorry, you can go first if you want.” She turned to me with a small smile, my stomach churning as her light brown eyes gazed into mine. “I’m still deciding.”
“Thanks.” I smiled back at her and nodded slightly. I noticed that the rims of her eyes were actually green. I turned my face to stop from staring at her. She was prettier than I’d realized from her photographs. She had a natural beauty that was captivating. I wanted to look at her again, but that annoyed me. I wasn’t sure why I was so drawn to her. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t anyone for me to be drawn toward. Though . . . could I bring her down with sex? Make her fall for me and then break her heart? I ordered a coffee and mentally dismissed the idea. That wasn’t enough punishment, plus I knew that David and Larry most probably had other plans. Plans that I had to adhere to before going after my own retribution.
I took my coffee to my table and sat down again. She chose a table that was in my line of vision, and I watched as she pulled her laptop out and sat down, typing away quickly as she sipped on her frozen drink. She paused for a few moments, and I watched as she nibbled on a pen, leaving a blue stain on her lips. Her luscious pink lips. She wasn’t the type I normally went for, but I was instinctively attracted to her. Bianca London was someone I could see myself fucking. Her clothes were baggy but didn’t cover her curves and her ample chest. Her face was expressive, and I could almost picture her different faces as I made her come, with my tongue, my finger, and then my cock. I shifted in the chair as I realized I was getting hard just from thinking about her.
I picked up my book and read a few pages to distract myself from my thoughts. I couldn’t afford to be attracted to Bianca. I couldn’t afford to see her in any other light. She was simply the daughter of the people who had ruined my mother’s life. To think of her as anything other than that person would undermine my plan. It had been a mistake coming to the coffee shop to see her. It had been a mistake putting a face to the person before I’d had to. She looked too human. Too fragile. There was an ethereal air to her that reminded me of my mother. She looked like someone who needed protecting. A primal part of me wanted to be that person. I wanted to take her into my arms and protect her from the world. And that made me laugh inwardly as I closed my book and stood up. Of course that wasn’t going to happen. I was in no position to protect her. The person she was going to need protection from was me.
three