That Which Destroys Me by Kimber S. Dawn Read Free Book Online Page A

to discuss, exactly?”
    His chuckle causes my skin to break out in chill bumps. “After drink one, yeah?”
    “What? You have to get another drink in me before even telling me the topic?” I scoff mocking scandal.
    “Hell fucking yes, I do.” He shakes his head with the devil’s grin dancing across his face. A few moments later, he flips the blinker before pulling into a parking garage directly on Park fucking Ave. I can’t help it. My jaw falls into my damn lap.
    “What you need to pick something up from Hermes?” I ask looking around and laughing but not being funny AT ALL .
    “What?” He glances over and looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. “Hermes? Hell no. For one it’s ten thirty at night and the only fucking thing I have in my closet is Armani.”
    “Oh…” I tug up my dress.
    Fuck yes! The damn girls are spilling out again.
    “My dress came from Saks. Well, the discount rack at Saks.”
    Now his mouth drops open. “Saks?” Then the cocky bastard mouths ‘Wow’.
    “Yes, fucking Saks, why?”
    “I just… I don’t know. It looks like it was handmade for you. That’s all.” He shrugs and pulls into a parking spot. Before my mind can register what the hell I’m doing here - with him - he has my door open and he’s pulling me from the car by my hand.
    When we make it to… hell, I don’t know - floor three hundred and seventy-five? The top floor, of course - the elevator doors part to reveal his ‘home’. If that’s what you can call it.
    We enter the main entrance and walk onto the marble floor of the grand foyer where he unloads his keys, wallet, and cell phone on a long table. When I glance past the foyer and see plush white carpet, I kick my heels off which causes Wes to look over his shoulder and down at my feet before laughing.
    “What?” I ask confused but more embarrassed over my knee jerk reaction.
    Who sees white fucking carpet and doesn’t kick off their shoes? Well, if you don’t you’re either an asshole or your shoes are brand fucking new.
    “Nothing.” His hand grasps mine before pulling me forward. “Your feet are cute as shit, that’s all. What do you drink?”
    I let him pull me past the living room, through the dining room and into another sitting area with a bar. Yes. A full bar. Liquor bottles lined up—the whole nine.
    He pulls a bar stool out - again, yes. A barstool. I said the whole damn nine - I scoot my bottom up onto the stool as ladylike as possible. “Ms. Reese? What. Would. You. Like. To. Drink?”
    “Oh, wine.” I smile up at him behind the bar and watch his eyebrow lift up.
    “Any particular wine or can I just grab the old box of Franzia from the back of kitchen pantry?”
    My face scrunches up at the mention of Franzia. “White Zin, Riesling or Moscato. I like sweet wines.”
    “That I can do.” He nods, pouring himself a scotch after he hands me a glass of Riesling.
    He literally drains his glass of scotch - less than three sips - swear to God. That, in turn, causes my nervousness to reappear and I follow suit by downing my glass of wine.
    When I look back at Wes, he has that damn grin across his face that as a child I dreamed of and pined for, directed squarely on me.
    “God-fucking-dammit, Stella. You are so beautiful.” His brows furrow before he looks down into his empty glass.
    “Thank you?” I duck my head embarrassed at the way I ended my statement with a question.
    What the hell is wrong with me? He is just a man. He is a human. He is not a God, he is required to shower, shave, and brush his teeth just like every one else in order to remain healthy…and attractive.
    Fuck, he is attractive too.
    I let my eyes roam over him. My fingers itch to run through his short dark brown hair. My eyes could gaze into his bright green ones for hours. His wide shoulders cause my mind to wonder how it would feel being under him, surrounded by him. And his face? Holy cheese and crackers. It’s just as beautiful, if not more now with the