Page 116 of Insidious

“You have your own dessert,” I point out as he shamelessly steals a bite.

“Tastes better off your plate.”

“That’s scientifically untrue.”

“I don’t mind asking for a box and then licking it off you,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows while one hand travels up my thigh and just under the edge of my thong.

“Isaac …” I gasp, but he is distracted. Under the cover of the tablecloth, his finger is tracing my outer lips, testing how wet I am. I gasp as he unerringly finds my clit and gently tracings circles.

“Isaac … someone will see.” I gasp in his ear, sure that everyone knows.

“Just keep doing what you are doing, love,” he says, taking a sip of water while his finger keeps at it, teasing, moving gently until I am ready to climb onto his lap and get arrested for public obscenity.

His gaze drops straight down the front of my dress.

“My eyes are up here, Marlowe.” I try to insert some control into my voice, but it is a losing battle as a firm brush has me gasping.

“Yeah,” he says immediately, before dragging slowly back upwards to meet my eyes.

No shame there whatsoever.

“But they’re sooooo … distracting.”

Heat rushes straight into my face. I can feel the blush climb from my neck and over my cheeks.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s not my fault,” he says calmly, taking another sip of wine. “You turned up dressed like you wanted me to do this. And you are not really putting in any effort to stop me, love.”

I laugh before I choke when he probes my opening with his middle finger.

“You’re unbelievable. We need to stop.”

“No … Not until I say so,” he says with a gleam in his eyes. He leans closer, lowering his voice slightly. “Do you know how hard I’m working to behave right now?”

“Are you? This is what you call behaving?”

“Luna,” he says solemnly as his finger moves deeper, “I deserve a medal. I am a poster boy for the choir.”

I snort loudly enough that the couple at the next table glance over.

Isaac looks deeply pleased with himself as he continues to drive me crazy.

Then he withdraws his hand. He brushes his thumb lightly against my knee beneath the table before bringing it to his mouth and licking it.

“I missed this,” he says. “Just the perfect way to end a meal.”

The warmth curling between us has nothing to do with obligation or even sex. There is frustration, but also—

Suddenly, I understand what Sandra meant.

Intimacy isn’t only physical.

Sometimes, it’s this wordless connection.

His hand finds mine beneath the table without either of us mentioning it.

Isaac looks at me like he still can’t quite believe I’m here beside him. I don’t feel like I’m trying to get back to who we used to be. I think maybe … we’re becoming something new instead. Something better.