I arrived at eight, opting to come in a limo. If Sara was going to have a first night on the town in New York, it might as well be done in style.
I exited the car to get her, but she emerged from the building.
“Hi.” She sounded a little breathless and grinning, like she’d been hurrying or maybe excited. Her enthusiasm was contagious and I found myself smiling back at her.
“Ready?”
She nodded. “Yes.” She eyed the car. “I’ve never been in a limo.”
I extended a hand toward the car inviting her in.
She climbed in and like a child she was immediately exploring all the features. I watched her with amusement. Growing up with wealth, there weren’t many things in life for me to discover. I realized all this was a new world to her. It was interesting how close Staten Island was, but for some people, like Sara, it was a world away.
She found the bar and started examining all her options.
“How about champagne?” I offered.
She smiled and bit her lower lip. Christ, I wanted to kiss her and get her naked just from that. Well that and her simple, yet sexy outfit. A black skirt and a turtleneck have never looked so tantalizing. I especially liked the peeks of skin around her waist and just above her tits.
You’re her boss, showing her the city, I reminded myself. But hell, it might be hard not to touch her.
I reached for the champagne and poured her a glass. It occurred to me then that she’s only nineteen. I wondered about the odds of me getting arrested for serving alcohol to someone underage. She looked young, and yet at the office she proved her intelligence and maturity, so it was hard to remember he was so young.
I handed her a flute half-filled with champagne and then filled my own. I held my glass up. “To my new intern.”
She smiled brightly again, and it was hard to imagine she didn’t have a slew of boyfriends. At the same time, there was an innocence to her. As if she has been sheltered in life and was unworldly.
She sipped and her eyes brightened even more, if that was possible. “Oh, this is so good. It tickles my nose.”
I found myself envying her enthusiasm for life and all there was to discover. Clearly, I was spoiled and jaded. I wanted to give her a night filled with new discoveries.
“Charles, take us to Jet,” I told the driver, who up until that moment was taking us to one of Raven Industries most exclusive restaurants. Instead, I decided to take her to one of our clubs. It served food as well, so we could still eat.
As we wove through the city, I remained amused by her as she continued to discover all the features of the limo. At one point, she held out her glass for more champagne.
“Have you ever drunk before?”
She shook her head. “It’s a sin.”
My brow quirked at that. “Is it?”
She sighed. “Nearly everything that brings joy is a sin.”
“Then I’m going to hell.”
She grinned. She’d been sitting across from me, but moved to sit next to me. The car made an abrupt jerk which had her landing in my lap. Instinct had me wrapping an arm around her to keep her safe. The man in me held her there.
“Oh!” She held her drink out, but a little spilled on the lower part of my slacks. “Oh God, Mr. Raven—”
I groaned at the reminder that I was her boss and older. I helped her move to sit next to me. “How about you call me Chase tonight?”
Her hand was patting at my pant leg. “I’m so sorry.” Her face was completely absent any of the joy I’d seen before. She actually looked a little scared. Like she thought I’d be angry at her spilling on me.
“Hey, Sara.” I reached over with my finger to raise her head to look at me. “It’s fine.”
“I got champagne on you. I was clumsy and stupid—”
“That’s what dry cleaners are for. Accidents happen. Really. It’s okay.” Her reaction seemed over the top and it made me wonder about her history.
She was somber as she sat next to me and sipped the rest of her drink.
We pulled up to the club, and I hoped to bring back the exuberance I’d seen earlier. I helped her out of the car and lead her to the door. There was already a line outside, but as a part of the one of the owners, I didn’t have to wait.
“Mr. Raven,” one of the bouncers and card checkers asked.
I supposed he didn’t ask for Sara’s ID because she was with me. “Kyle, how are you?”
“Very good, sir,” he said letting us in.
The music was loud and lights were flashing all around. I took Sara’s hand to keep from losing her as we worked through the crowd over to a secluded table reserved just for special guests. The booth was separated by glass barriers to help cut down on the noise from the club.
Jet was the brain-child and pet project of my brother, Ash and his childhood buddy, Ben McAdams. Initially, they’d wanted to start and run it on their own, but a club like this needed money, especially since Ash needed financing to create the club’s most well-known effect, holographic dancers. Raven Industries funded the club, but left the running of it primarily to Ash and Ben. As the company has taken on more clubs, Ash has been in charge of their oversight as well.
I helped Sara into the booth and by the time I joined her and could look to see how she was doing, her smile had returned and her eyes were large as they scanned the club.
“Mr. Raven. What can I get you?” a waitress named Darla asked.
“A bottle of champagne. We’ll be eating too. We’ll start with bruschetta,” I said thinking the bread would help absorb the alcohol. “Can you bring menus?”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned to Sara. “Have you ever been to a club?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never even been to a dance.”
“Another sin?”
She looked at me, her expression looking a little embarrassed. “You must think I’m a total bore.”
I frowned. “Bore?”
“All this, your life, life in the city. I feel like I’m on another planet.” She looked out over the club again.
“That doesn’t make you a bore. In fact, I enjoy watching you take it all in.”
She blushed, or maybe it was the champagne.
Darla arrived with the champagne and the bruschetta. Then she handed us menus.
“Thank you, Darla. We’ll need a minute.” When she walked off, I turned to Sara. “Eat up, then we can order and dance.”
Her eyes widened again. “We can dance?”
I laughed. “Yes.”
She bit her lip, and god dammit, I wanted to bite her there too. “I’ve never danced. I don’t know how.”
“There’s no right or wrong to dancing in a club.”
She laughed. “Yeah but I bet I could still embarrass myself.”
I shook my head. “Not possible.” Sara had a body meant for dancing. And fucking.
She took a bite of the bruschetta and then moaned and closed her eyes. Jesus, was everything she did sensual? The worst part was that as far as I could tell, she was oblivious to her sensuality. I usually had a pretty good radar when it came to women and what they were after. Some just wanted a good fuck, while others were after a ring and money. As far as I could, Sara was just trying to experience life.
While the glass barrier cut down on the noise, it was still loud and so I moved closer to her as I poured the champagne. At least that’s what I’d told myself.
She smelled clean and fresh, and I realized that was probably her soap or shampoo. If booze and dancing were sins, chances were perfume was too. As I poured her drink, I looked down at the soft, smooth looking skin exposed just above her tits. That outfit was probably a sin too. I had an urge to bend over and run my tongue over the swells of her cleavage. My thoughts were definitely sinful.
“This is one of your clubs,” she said to me.
“It is. You’ve done your research.” I wasn’t surprised. Her marketing report for the Palm Beach Resort, which I bought that morning, showed she was thorough.
She nodded. “Your brother started this one, and then you expanded and now own clubs in Los Angeles, Miami, Las Vegas, and Nashville.”
“Plus London, Berlin, and Tokyo.” I rested my arm on the booth behind her.
She turned her body toward me, her blue eyes twinkling like it was Christmas morning. “Have you been to all of them? Even in other countries?”
I nodded and for the first time was a little embarrassed by my wealth. “I’ve been to all our properties. Clubs, hotels, restaurants, all over the world.”
She closed her eyes like she was imagining what it was like in each location. A strange pull in my chest had me wishing I could show them all to her.
She opened her eyes and smiled. “I’ve never been out of New York. I’ve barely been off Staten Island.”
“You’ve taken your first steps to explore the world.” I tugged lightly on one of her silky strands of hair, needing to touch her.
She nodded. “Yes, well, I doubt I’ll ever be able to travel like you, but I do want to see as much as I can.”
Darla returned. “Have you decided on what you want, Mr. Raven?”
I hadn’t even looked at the menu. But I knew the chef. “Can you tell Dom to make us shrimp scampi over pasta.” I turned to Sara. “You’re not allergic, are you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
Christ, she’d never had shrimp? I turned back to Darla. “Can you bring is some of his special French bread as well?”
Darla nodded, took our menus, and left.
“I feel a little like Dorothy in Oz,” Sara said, once again looking up at me with her large blue eyes.
“Just don’t click your heels yet.” I grinned.
She shook her head. “I’m never going home.”
Again, her words had me wondering about her life. Was she sheltered? Had she been abused? I wanted to know, but knew that now wasn’t the time or place. Tonight, was about giving her experiences she’d never forget. Immediately, my brain flashed with a vision of her naked and writhing under me as I plunged inside her body. Would I be different from other men she’d had before? I remembered her comments about sin. Fucking was definitely a sin, and I wondered for a moment if she was a virgin. I shook my head at that. She was a beautiful, sexy, nineteen-year-old college student who clearly wanted to experience life. Sex had to be a part of her living-life bucket list.
One of the perks of being Chase Raven was receiving premier treatment, especially at one of our business holdings. Our dinner came quickly, so I was sure my order was moved to the top of the list and likely prepared by Dom himself, and not one of the other cooks.
“What do you think?” I asked Sara, as I watched her take a bite and again, closing her eyes to savor the taste.
“It’s wonderful.” She sniffed and I thought I saw tears in her eyes.
“You okay?” The food wasn’t spicy, so I could figure out why it would make her emotional.
“I’m perfect. This is perfect.” She didn’t look at me and instead took another bite her meal.
I poured a little more champagne. “Well, eat up, because after this, we’re dancing.”
