I winced. "I'm sorry to hear that."
She nodded and gave me a murmured thanks. "It's just that I keep having flashbacks of the whole Lance thing with Raven and what an unhinged psycho he was…" Her words cut off and her eyes sudI tipped my head, not the least bit offended.
"Why? Because he's my twin brother? Trust me, I know who Lance is and it's not a solid, upstanding citizen. We were never close and we couldn't be more different."
"I just…" She shook her head, causing her soft blonde waves to brush across her shoulders. "I forget that he's your twin brother. The two of you don't look identical."
"No, we're fraternal, thank God." She nodded, then leaned against the concrete railing and glanced out over the city.
"So, where is Owen tonight?" she asked, making casual conversation.
"His mother has him for the weekend." I settled in beside her, arms braced on the top of the barrier. "I get him back tomorrow afternoon."
She gave me a curious, sidelong glance. "Is that hard…splitting time with her?"
"Always," I admitted. "It's too quiet when he's not around. I'm used to him running through the house no matter how many times I tell him not to, or playing his video games and the animated sounds he makes, or his constant inquisitive questions. Don't get me wrong. Having a bit of silence is nice, but I definitely feel like something is missing when he's gone."
"He's a great kid," she said softly, having interacted with him many times because of Raven being Owen's aunt. "He seems very well adjusted despite…"
Her voice trailed off again, as if she didn't want to broach a sensitive topic. "Despite the divorce and having to divide his time between two parents?" I finished for her.
"Yes." She smiled. "Every time I see the two of you together, he's like your little mini-me. Not only does he look a lot like you, at the pool party Raven and Remy had last month I was laughing at how much he tried to mimic you."
I vividly remembered that day, not because of my son's antics, but because of the bikini Stevie had worn that had her lush breasts and curves on display.
A light breeze blew, and I saw her shiver, and there was no missing the way her nipples tightened and pushed against the thin material of her dress.
She rubbed her arms with her hands, and without thinking or even asking her if she was cold, because clearly she was and there were no heat lamps on this side of the terrace, I shrugged out of my suit coat.
"Here. Take my jacket," I said, settling the material over her shoulders,not questioning the possessive way it made me feel to see her wrapped up in my coat.
She groaned as the warmth inside of the jacket chased away her chill. "So much better. Thank you." She grabbed the lapels and pulled them closed in front of her, and I watched as she put her nose against the
expensive cashmere fabric, closed her eyes, and inhaled.
"Mmm." Her lashes drifted back open, her eyes half-mast and flirtatious. "It smells like you."
I cocked my head, though my dick reacted to the husky tone of her voice. "Is that a good thing?"
"A really good thing." She breathed in the scent again, and I imagined her doing the same thing against my neck where I'd lightly sprayed the fragrance. "Whatever cologne you wear…now that's an aphrodisiac."
I chuckled. "Better than oysters?"
She laughed. "Most definitely."
We both turned back to the stunning view of Manhattan at night, a comfortable silence settling between us. I was the first to break it. "So, I've always been curious," I said, casting a glance her way.
"Is Stevie short for another name, like Stephanie?"
"No," she said, and gave a wry laugh as she turned her head to look at me.
"I'm actually lucky my name isn't Steven. My father wanted a son. He didn't get one with Valerie, who my mother named. And when I was born a girl, out of pure spite he named me Stevie, since that was the name he'd picked out for a boy."
I felt my brows rise in shock.
"Yes, my father was an asshole," she said bitterly, giving me the impression that her family's history was just as dysfunctional as my own.
I didn't want her traveling down that road. Not tonight, when everything was so enjoyable between us. "I like the name. It suits you."
She gave me a skeptical, challenging look.
"How so?"
"You're feisty. Fun. Easygoing." Without thinking, I lifted a hand and brushed a few wayward strands of hair off her cheek, the pads of my fingerscaressing her soft skin.
"Maybe even creative or artistic. Adventurous, despite not trying oysters."
Her lips parted as she stared into my eyes, captivating me.
"I wouldn't have thought you'd paid that much attention to me, to be able to come to that conclusion."
"Stevie…I paid attention." My voice was low, raspier than I'd intended. I wanted to tell her all the things I'd noticed, all the different ways I'd imagined kissing her, fucking her, hearing her soft, sultry moans as I made her cum.
Our eyes remained locked, and in the background I vaguely heard the DJ announce the last song of the evening. In front of me, Stevie's pink, glossy lips curled up in a mischievous smile.
"Last song of the night and it's a slow one," she mused playfully. "Care to dance?"
I recognized a dare when I saw one. A temptation I ought to resist, but Raven was right. I did need to do things that made me feel good and happy, and right now, Stevie tapped into both.
Without verbally replying, I closed the short distance between us and took her into my arms. Sliding one arm inside my jacket and around her waist to bring our bodies flush together, and taking hold of her hand in mine.
I heard her soft gasp of surprise, which reflected in her eyes as she looked up at me, as if she hadn't really thought I'd follow through on her challenge.