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Wow…okay. That was more information than I thought he would give, yet it still told me next to nothing about why he felt the way he did. But that was part of Salvatore’s allure. He was mysterious. Commanding. An enigma who I—and everyone else, it seemed—was utterly fascinated with. “So, now you own almost the entire city and don’t answer to anyone.”
“That’s right.” Salvatore’s eyes narrowed, shrewd and intelligent in ways I wasn’t even capable of comprehending. “I like to control the situations I put myself in. I don’t bend or kneel for others. I find it much more satisfying when they do so for me. Business or…otherwise.”
I leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “You mean what you do at the Wolfe’s Den?”
One of Salvatore’s black eyebrows arched. “Yes. Which makes the fact that you like being controlled rather convenient, wouldn’t you say?”
I sucked my lower lip behind my teeth as his intense stare urged me to be truthful, and when Salvatore reached across the table and ran a thumb over my lip, pulling it free, I let out a shaky sigh and replied, “Yes.”
“And will you kneel for me, Jesse?”
Right then I was convinced I would’ve done anything for him as he held me captivated with nothing more than his hypnotic voice and laser-like stare. “Yes.”
“You’re getting very good at saying that,” Salvatore said, and sat back in his chair. “We’ll have to see about the follow-through…later.”
My heart was pumping so hard that I was surprised he couldn’t hear it, but before I could respond, the waiter appeared at our table with two plates in hand, and I realized why Salvatore had chosen to stop the discussion.
“Here’s your American Kobe twelve-ounce New York strip, Mr. Wolfe. And for you, sir,” the waiter said, turning to place a large plate down in front of me, “the roasted mad hatcher Cornish hen.”
He asked if we needed anything else, and after we each told him we were fine, he disappeared and I looked down at the enormous meal in front of me. “Wow,” I said, and then chuckled as I looked up at Salvatore. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to eat all of this.”
Salvatore gave me a crooked smile as he unwrapped his silverware. “The second you get a taste, I bet you’ll change your mind.”
Something about the way the word taste rolled off his tongue made me extremely aware of what we’d been talking about before our food had arrived, and it was shocking to me that, just that easily, he had me back to thinking about being on my knees in front of him.
What the hell is the matter with me? I’m never this single-minded. Especially about sex. But damn… Brayden had been right. Salvatore was most certainly a man who evoked very specific feelings in me. Feelings I didn’t even know I was capable of.
He was most certainly dominant. Not only in the way he talked, but the way he moved commanded one’s attention, and the simple act of him unfolding his napkin had me hypnotized. I was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than what he planned to do to me after dinner, and though it was totally out of character for me, I found this new side he was drawing to the surface was an exciting one. One I couldn’t wait to get to know better.
Many had looked at me the way Jesse was currently eyeing me as we sat there in my restaurant, and I wondered what exactly was running through his mind. His desire was obvious in the heat coloring his cheeks and the stormy shade of his eyes. But I wondered what he was thinking along with those feelings.
Usually, I wouldn’t care one way or another. Most of the time I took my fill, slaked the lust, and sent my toy of the night on his way. But not this time. Not with Jesse. With him, I found myself wanting to know every thought behind those eyes. Every answer to the questions I had asked and the ones I had yet to voice, and as he continued to silently watch me, my craving for him intensified.
With my knife in hand, I gestured to the plate in front of him. “You better eat that before it gets cold.”
Jesse dragged his eyes off mine and looked back down at his meal. “Right, it looks—”
“Delicious?”
When his eyes flew back up to mine, Jesse’s pupils were blown, and I couldn’t help my chuckle. Between our phone call this morning, the elevator ride up here, and the talk of what would happen later tonight, Jesse was on edge. And without looking or touching, I knew my poor little lamb was hard as a rock.
“Huh?”
“Your food,” I said, but made sure to lower my gaze to his lips as I licked my own. “It looks…delicious.”
