“Now, you’re talking,” I said, moving my lips across his cheek, letting my fingers explore his body, blowing into his ear.
Rory grabbed my waist and pulled me tighter, moaning like he just had to have me. He gingerly felt my breasts, and my nipples hardened in his fingers. His touch tingled my entire body, and I came alive in parts that had nearly been mummified.
“Ugh, where have I been, baby?” he asked. “It’s been way too long.”
As he started to slide off the straps of my dress, I playfullyswatted at his hands and stepped back. No way I was going to let this flame burn out too quickly.
“Not so fast,” I said. “Take a breath or two. We have all night.”
“What?” he asked, “you wouldn’t dare make me wait. Close your eyes, Philippe. I’m going to do bad things to your mommy.”
Our precious dog didn’t know what to make of Rory’s warning.
“The sauce is going to burn,” I said.
He sighed, looking me up and down as if I were the only thing he cared about in the entire world. He needed me, had to have me, would die if he didn’t take me right now.
A warmth ran up my legs and glowed in my essence. This woman here, Margot Simpson, Superwife Extraordinairre, had saved a marriage.
“Let the sauce burn,” he said. “Let the house burn, for all I care. I need yourightnow.”
Though his words and the desperation in his eyes made my knees wobble, I held back. The deal might be sealed, but I liked my games and the way he was looking at me. Might as well keep enjoying it for a while.
I lifted a finger. “You need to find us a bottle of wine and”—I lowered my gaze to where Li’l Rory was making known his presence—“and find a way to keep him in your pants till after dinner.”
“After dinner? You’re…I’m…”
A grin lifted me an inch off the ground. Mary Poppins, watch out! To be wanted like that was everything to me.
“You heard me,” I snapped, showing him who was in command. “After dinner.”
He dropped his head and said with reluctance, “For the record, this isn’t fair.”
And I tended to agree. I wanted him just as badly, and parts of my body were angry with me for this sudden retreat. However, I stood my ground.
“If only life were fair.” I kissed two fingers and then slid themdown, playing at the fringes of my dress. “Now do as your told and find me some merlot.”
His shoulders fell, and his Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as he attempted to swallow the news that he’d have to simmer down.
I turned to stir the Bolognese, and as the wonderful smell thickened in the air, I felt him staring at me.
Smacking the wooden spoon against the pot, I said, “Merlot, now!”
“You are just evil,” he said. “In the best of ways.”
If I smiled any harder, I was going to break a rib, but I didn’t turn back.
Rory searched through the wine rack while I went back to work on dinner. Everything in our world had come together. I couldn’t believe it, and I’d never been so excited about a date in my entire life. I was the bad guy in a stupid cartoon when he says with steepled hands, “My plan is coming together.”
With Van Morrison setting the mood, my lover uncorked a left-bank Bordeaux, which is a merlot-based wine from my favorite wine region that, when done right, will knock you into the stratosphere. We raised our glasses and toasted to falling in love all over again. He was still flushed from our initial encounter. As was I.
After first sips, Rory asked about my day.
Wait.
Hold on.
Yep, you read that right! Heasked about my day! We could have stopped there, and he already would have won. I told him about the nail salon and that I’d picked up a thing or two at Williams-Sonoma, “thing or two” being a loose phrase. Who cared about details, anyway? A thing, two things. Thirty things. Just numbers.
