Free A Taste of You by Sorcha Grace Page A

told me he was aroused. “You know, you make me do things, think things. Do you even know how fucking hot I am for you?” He reached down and adjusted himself, and even in the darkness, I could see he had an impressive erection. I’d made him that aroused? I’d made him want me that much?
    “I can’t,” I said, but I didn’t sound convincing.
    “You can,” he murmured, his warm breath at my neck. “And you will. This is just the beginning, Catherine. I’m going to have you.” His fingers caressed mine, moving in slow, tantalizing circles. “We are going fuck in more ways than you can imagine. And I’m going to show you pleasure you didn’t know existed.”
    Oh, my God—more dirty talk. I shuddered because I liked it when he talked to me like that. I guess I appreciated directness too.
    This was not what I wanted, I reminded myself. “I don’t even know you,” I protested weakly.
    “You know me. Your body knows me. You think this kind of reaction happens every day? We’re going to happen, Catherine. It’s inevitable. Why wait?”
    I knew he was right. There was something extraordinary simmering between us, chemistry I’d never felt before, not even with Jace. And with that one thought, all the sadness crashed down.
    I shut my eyes tightly. “No.” I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed. One look at his intense eyes, and I would lose my resolve. “I can’t do this.” I pushed away from the wall of the restaurant, stepping toward the curb and raising my hand for a cab.
    “Fuck,” William cursed behind me. I heard the frustration in his tone, but then he stepped beside me, whistled, and a cab pulled to the curb. He opened the door, and I thought he might climb in beside me, but he shut it as soon as I was in. Instead, he leaned in the window, told the driver my address, and handed him what looked like a hundred.
    “I have money,” I protested.
    He ignored me. “Take her home. Safely.” Then he stepped back, shoved his hands in his pockets, and fixed his turbulent gaze on mine. Our eyes locked, the connection unbroken until he faded in the darkness as the cab pulled away.
    The ride was blissfully silent and the driver quiet. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. My nerves were raw, and my whole body craved release. I was edgy and frustrated, flustered and confused. I’d had to run, though walking away from the sexual magnetism of William Lambourne was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done. I couldn’t have stayed. The feelings were too intense, my reaction too raw. He made me forget everything, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.
    I grabbed my phone from my purse and texted Beckett that I was in a cab on my way home.
    Immediately, he texted back. Alone?
    Yes . Yoga tomorrow?
    Hell, yes. I want details.
    I shoved the phone back in my purse. Details? I was hot, frustrated, and completely in lust with a man I didn’t know. And I’d just told him I couldn’t do what he wanted, what we both wanted. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the seat. I could feel William’s hands on my face, taste the bourbon on his tongue, and feel his hard body pushed against mine.
    It was going to be a long night.
    *****
    The next morning I met a bleary-eyed Beckett at our usual Bikram yoga class. Beckett and I were in the back, and we’d just finished our stretches. It was one hundred and five degrees in the room, and we were slicked with sweat. Beckett looked like he’d stayed out too late, and I was glad I’d left the party early. My black mat was beside his grey one as we bent our knees for the Awkward Pose. I was dressed in black Lululemon boogie shorts, a pink and black sports bra, and nothing else.
    We shifted into Eagle Pose, and I breathed deeply. I’d always loved yoga. It centered me and made me feel cleansed. Today, I really needed to feel centered. I hadn’t slept well last night. Big surprise. My thoughts had kept returning to Mr. Billionaire and the