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Keon Meeting Enna (1)


Keon’s POV.

“Is Sadie not with you tonight?”

My hand grips the glass a little tighter. I force a smile. “No, Deborah, we’re not together anymore,” I reply in the most neutral voice I can manage.

The older woman’s eyes widen, and she gives me an awkward smile.

“Oh, that’s a were a lovely couple,” she drawls.

I resist rolling my eyes. Lovely couple? Fucking around behind each other’s backs, barely saying two words to each other, fighting every time we did manage to talk? Oh yeah, lovely.

“We’re over now,” I tell her firmly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I stride over to the bar. I need another drink; this champagne isn’t strong enough. I’ve had a shit week. I’ve been fighting with Sadie and our fucking lawyers; she won’t sign the damn papers. She only has one job, write her signature.

The witch won’t sign them. She is doing it on purpose to spite me. This is the only power she has over me and she knows it. I order a whiskey and take a large gulp. The familiar, warm burn is comforting, and I relax against the bar.

Tonight is going to be boring; I can feel it. I’ve been here for an hour already, doing the rounds and making an appearance. Half of business is how well-known you are, I come to these things to stay in the relevant social circles and keep my business thriving.

It’s a lot easier when you have a date, but I seem to be lacking that department. Sadie and I used to come to these things together. We wouldn’t speak all night, only smile, and fake appearances. When we went home, it would usually be with other people.

The women I’ve been with the last few years, aren’t interested in dating. None of them would want to come tonight, so I’m alone. On that bitter thought, a beautiful woman enters the room.

She’s stunning. And young. Younger than me. Her black hair shines in the glow from the chandeliers and her dress catches the eye of everyone nearby. It hugs her curvy body perfectly. The silk looks smooth and tempting as hell, makes me want to run my hands over her body.

She bites her lip and accepts a glass of champagne. She seems both confident and shy at the same time.

Some guy her own age steals her attention and I start chatting to Mr and Mrs Barten. I’m surprised when the young guy turns out to be their son, Bradley, and he brings the beauty over to join our conversation.

I can feel her eyes on me as I talk to Mr Barten. I let her study me for a moment before I turn to catch her gaze. Her eyes are full of desire and honestly, it makes me feel good.

It’s flattering to know that a young, stunning woman like her, finds me attractive. Or at least, she appears to. I take her in her dress, appreciating her figure more now that she is closer. She smiles at me, letting me know that she has caught my obvious checking-out.

“Oh, how rude of us! This is Enna, she is Roger Falcone’s daughter. Enna, this is Keon King, CEO of King Engineering and Construction,” Mrs Barten introduces us.

I’m relieved, I didn’t have to ask one of them for her name. I offer out my hand to her, eager for contact. Her small hand fits perfectly in mine.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr King,” she says sweetly.

I love her voice. “Likewise, Miss Falcone,” I manage to reply.

I’m surprised I could even form a sentence. My mind has gone blank, I’m too focussed on her. She looks away first and pulls back her hand. I try to think of something to say, I want to keep talking to her. The half-empty glass in her hand gives me an excuse.

“Would you like a drink?”

She finishes off what’s left in her glass, making me smile. I like her already. I get close to her at the bar, it’s busy and it’s hard to maintain distance. Her soft body brushes against mine and I have to fight to keep my thoughts clean.

I ask her what she would like, and she calls me Mr King. I both love it and hate it. She doesn’t need to be that formal with me, but she sounds sexy as she says it. I move back onto champagne, wanting to keep a clear head so I can talk to her.

I know her father, many people do. Roger Falcone is a successful man. I ask her about him to try and make conversation, but she pulls a face at my question. She and her father must not have the best relationship, then.

Enna points out her father with his much younger wife. I look over at them. Admittedly, they look happy. I’m aware that Enna is younger than me, but it is definitely not the same age gap as the obvious one between her father and her step-mother.

I’m surprised to hear that she has started her own business. I don’t know why really, even after only knowing her for a few minutes, I can tell that she is a tough woman who will persevere until she gets what she wants. I like her tenacity.

I offer for her to look at my garden. I have gardeners come in, but as an excuse to see her again, I could decide to do something different with it...

After the gong has been rung, we look at the seating plan. I mentally curse as I realise that I’m nowhere near Enna. I need to change that.

I tell her that I’m going to find someone to switch with me. Her cheeks flush, making her look beautiful and adorable at the same time. I look at the seating plan and choose an elderly woman that I recognise as one of my ex-wife’s friends. Hopefully, I can get in her good books.

I spot her standing near the table. “Dorothy, how are you?” I greet her, giving her my most charming smile.

She blushes and quickly finishes her conversation with the person next to her. She pulls me into a hug, making me inhale her sweet perfume. I resist coughing.

“Keon, sweetheart, I’m wonderful. How are you?” She babbles.

“I’m very good, thank you. I have a big favour to ask, there’s a friend of mine sitting on this table and I’d love to catch up with them. Could you possibly be an angel and switch with me, please? I’d owe you big time,” I ask her, throwing in a wink for good measure.

It works a charm. The woman turns into a blubbering mess.

“Of course, darling! Which table am I swapping to?”

I guide her over to my assigned seat and help her into it.

“Are you sure I can’t buy you a glass of sherry as a thank you?” I offer and she brushes me off.

“Oh, look at you! Such a sweetie. I’m fine, honestly.”

With that sorted, I return to Enna. If I’d told the uptight Dorothy that I really wanted to swap because I’m flirting with a woman much younger than me, who is not Sadie, she would have refused. I sit down in the empty seat next to Enna. Her perfume surrounds me. It’s sweet, but light and not cloying.

“Well, I had to flirt my ass off, but I convinced the lady to swap,” I tell her, throwing in a wink because they seem to be working for me tonight.

She giggles endearingly. “It’s a shame I missed that, I bet it was quite entertaining.”

Hope fills me. She’s flirting with me.

It continues. I can’t believe how well we get on during the meal. She has a near-identical sense of humour to me, and I find myself laughing harder than I have in years.

It’s light and fun and easy, nothing like my life has been recently. It’s a welcome change. She listens intently as I tell her about my life and my business. For someone who is in her early twenties, she’s incredibly mature. She doesn’t seem interested in talking about herself.

I confess my age to her, wanting to see how she reacts. I watch her face carefully, but if she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. It’s a relief.

I’m happy when she gives me a bit of insight into her life. I want to know more about her.

I ask her if she’s dating anyone, and my question seems to take her by surprise. I panic internally for a moment, wondering if I’ve made her uncomfortable. Maybe she’s interested in a flirt and nothing more.

I’m relieved when she admits to being single. Good.

With that question successfully out of the way, I ask her to dance. I want her in my arms. I squash the rational part of me and hold her close. There are goosebumps on her skin where I’ve touched her, and I feel triumphant inside. I love having this effect on her.

Sadie made me taking dancing classes before our wedding and luckily, I remember all of the moves. I concentrate hard on my steps, wanting to impress this stunning woman.

She asks about my relationship status. My divorce isn’t official yet, but I tell her that it is because soon, it will be. There’s no point dragging her into my drama.

Up close like this, she’s even more beautiful. I can see the cute freckles on her nose and the golden-brown warmth of her eyes. My eyes involuntarily drop to her lips. So fucking plump. It makes me want to bite them until she moans. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip and suddenly my trousers are too tight.

I decide to make my feelings for her pretty clear. “I’ll be honest with you, Enna, I’m enjoying this more than I should be,” I admit. My voice sounds husky, even to my own ears.

She blushes and smiles at me. “I think your friend was a big giveaway, Keon,” she says and presses herself against my erection.

I fight hard to stop my cheeks warming up, but I can feel it happening.


She was not supposed to feel that. I was being so careful. I try to put some space between us, and I apologise. That’s fucking embarrassing. Over thirty years old and I’ve got a boner like some high school kid dancing with his crush at prom.

To my surprise, she presses against me, feeling my hard-on. I confess to finding her attractive and she runs her lips over my ear.

“It definitely isn’t one-sided, Mr King,” she whispers in my ear.

This woman is full of surprises.

I hold her tightly as pictures of us fucking fill my mind. I want nothing more than to be buried inside of her. I can’t let tonight be it, I need to spend more time with her.

I suggest going to my hotel and instantly regret my wording. I don’t want her thinking that I just want to fuck her, because as much as I do, that’s not all I want from her.

I wait for Enna in the lobby, whilst she says goodbye to her father. I’m glad I didn’t go with her; I can’t imagine her father would approve of her leaving with an older man.

As we walk to the hotel, I try not to let my conscious ruin everything. She’s too young for me. I shouldn’t be doing this. I’ve never dated someone this young. I’m thirty-two, I should be dating women my own age.

How does she know what she wants in life? She’s got so much ahead of her; she doesn’t want to be burdened with an old git like me. But as we talk over drinks, I start to think that maybe she does. She listens so intently to everything I say. She asks questions, genuinely curious about my answers. Her eyes are bright with desire, and she flirts unashamedly.

Slowly, my hopes start to life and the sensible voice in my head shuts up.

I want her.


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