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I shook my head, still trying to work out how Salvatore was so friendly with these guys. Did he bring all his dates here?
“In that case, you’re going to love it up there. It takes forty-three seconds to get to the top, so hang on.”
Salvatore walked over to the elevator and hit the up button, and when it immediately chimed and the doors opened, I looked behind me to where more people were now lined up to go through security but were being detained for the moment.
I hurried over to where Salvatore had his hand on the door, and when I brushed by him, I finally spoke. “Don’t we have to wait for a full elevator?” I said, thinking of the time I’d been crammed in an elevator to the top of the Empire State Building. Salvatore stepped inside, removed his hand, and as the doors shut, he moved to where I stood with my back to the wall. His height and formidable presence immediately made me forget anyone other than him, and when he placed his fingers beneath my chin to tilt my face up toward his, I nearly forgot my own name.
“No one rides with me unless they have my permission. And tonight, you are that person.”
Before I could respond, the elevator began to move, and Salvatore crushed his mouth down over the top of mine. I moved to clutch at his biceps as the elevator shot up, and my stomach flipped from the high-speed ascent and Salvatore’s mouth devouring mine. What a rush. My knees felt weak and my cock throbbed as Salvatore ground his entire body against me, and I dug my fingers harder into his arms, using his body as an anchor to both the ground and reality.
How long did the guard say the trip to the top was? Forty-three seconds? Well, that was all it took for my brain to be completely and utterly obliterated.
All too soon, the elevator dinged to announce its arrival at our destination, and as Salvatore straightened, a thrill went through me that anyone who would see us now would notice his swollen lips and know I’d been the reason for them. No doubt mine would look the same, and as the doors opened, Salvatore’s hand went to my lower back, guiding me out of the elevator and into the restaurant that took up the entire top floor of the building.
“Mr. Wolfe, good evening,” the hostess said as we approached her desk. “A table for two at your usual?”
“Yes, Rey. Thank you.”
The hostess smiled at us and grabbed a couple of menus, and as we followed, I was more than aware of Salvatore’s hand still resting on my lower back. As we made our way through the tables, I could feel the stares of those we passed, and it was all I could do not to check that I was missing a button, or that I’d made sure to zip up my pants. Or maybe I’d left some toothpaste on my chin? Don’t fidget, just keep moving. That was easier said than done, though, because at every table we passed, there were nods in our direction, followed by whispers. I could just make out the words Salvatore Wolfe, but beyond that, I could only guess why we were drawing so much attention. A gay couple wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary in Westport, so maybe it was just that Salvatore was so damn good-looking. He’d get my attention, that was for sure.
“Here you are,” the hostess said, setting the menus down at a table by the window that overlooked the city. Night would be falling soon, and the view of the sun setting over the buildings and the ocean beyond was stunning. As we took our seats, our hostess was quickly replaced by a waiter in a sharp blue suit, and he smiled warmly at both of us before turning his attention to Salvatore.
“Mr. Wolfe, it’s so nice to see you again. How may we serve you this evening?”
“A bottle of Malbec and the beef carpaccio to start, please, Alexei.”
“Absolutely, Mr. Wolfe.”
As Alexei left, I picked up the napkin in the shape of a fan and placed it in my lap. Salvatore was on a first-name basis with everyone in the building, it seemed, and this table was “his usual.” Once again, I wondered how many others he’d brought here. I didn’t want to think about that, not while I was sitting here at this beautiful restaurant with an even more beautiful man, but as I looked up and caught a few stares from surrounding diners, I felt the niggling insecurity that I didn’t belong in this world rise inside.
“What’s on your mind?” Salvatore asked.
“Do you come here often?”
“Yes.” When I didn’t follow that up right away, a hint of a smile turned up Salvatore’s lips. “Go ahead. Ask me.”
