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An hour before meeting up at the restaurant—Harper had somewhere to be and decided to come on her own—the lovebirds canceled. I couldn’t have been happier.
She groans. “I wanted to see Mira. But I guess she’s having the time of her life, so I should find another friend.”
“What about me?” I ask.
She snorts as she sits. “You? Why would I be friends with you?”
I gasp in mock horror. “What do you mean? Aren’t we friends already?”
Harper ignores me and takes a sip of water. When she sees me waiting for a response, she brings the glass to her lips again and drinks slowly.
“Well, you’re somewhat right,” I lean forward, “I don’t think we are friends. Friends don’t fall into bed naked or tease each other.”
The water comes flying out of her mouth and onto my face. Harper looks stunned, and I burst out laughing.
“What?”
“You, you,” she points to the glass, my face and every other thing. “I just spat water on your face. Why did you have to say something like that when I’m in the middle of drinking?”
“You were using it as an excuse to avoid giving me a response,” I call her out. “And I like it when your cheeks turn red. Have I told you my favorite thing to do is tease you?”
She tsks and picks a napkin from a decorative tray to mop up the water spilled on the table surface, even though most of it landed on my face.
“Your hand should be on me instead, you know,” I say in a low, seductive tone.
I am rewarded by the very audible gulp from Harper and even redder cheeks. Cranking it up a notch, I take her hand with the napkin, shake it loose from her fingertips, and bring her thumb to my mouth.
Her eyelashes flutter as I trace the outline of my lips with her finger before parting them slightly and taking the tip of her thumb between my teeth. She whimpers as I nip it lightly.
“Red and black,” I whisper, “two colors that look ravishing on you. I’d take off the black if we weren’t in a public place and leave the red on while I fuck you. Too bad Caleb and Mira’s plans did not include going to a place with dim lights.”
As she remains tongue-tied, I let her thumb go. Deliberately, I push a fork to the ground and bend down to get it. Instead of picking it up, I go under the table, reaching for Harper’s leg. Her gasp when I trail my fingers up her legs and to her thighs is loud enough that I assume it attracts some attention.
Her legs press together, denying me further access.
I return to my sitting position to meet a disoriented Harper.
“What are you doing?” she hisses. “You can’t do that here.”
“Really?” I challenge. “Why not? There’s a large cloth covering the table so no one can see what I’m doing. Haven’t you done something risky before?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“No?” I am thoroughly perplexed. I mean, everyone has done something like this at one point or another in their lives, right?
“Unlike you, I didn’t go around trying to touch people in restaurants.”
“And the men you dated were never so eager that they tried something like this? Even in the cinema? Watching a movie in the dark? A quickie in a bathroom?”
Harper shakes her head about everything I mention, and by the time I’m done, I feel a bit of annoyance at the men who have intimately been in her life.
“Shame, shame,” I say. “Shame on them. If you’d let me, I want to show you everything. How good it feels when you know someone might walk into the room or the difficulty in keeping your voice down when you’re getting fucked in an airplane’s tiny bathroom.”
“Don’t you take business class?” She asks.
I laugh. “Yeah, but that’s not the point. Let me teach you a few things, Harper. What do you say?”
She looks tempted as hell but doesn’t give in. “I’d like to go shopping for home furnishings instead. After we are done eating, that is.”
