Page 187 of Manhattan Bossholes

I sipped my wine, watching Aiden’s fork disappear between his lips. His eyes fluttered closed.

“Good?” I asked.

“I’ve only ever tasted one thing better.”

“What?”

“You.”

I must have flushed the same color as my wine. Thank God I didn’t choke on it. “Smooth,” I said, shaking my head at his cocky smirk. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“Since the moment we sat down,” he said. He leaned over, kissing me, letting me taste the wine on his tongue.

I hummed in appreciation.

Aiden pulled back, taking my fork so he could pick up my scallop and offer it to me. I opened my mouth, letting him feed me. As I chewed, his gaze, which had been firmly focused on my face, dropped lower, appreciating the view of my cleavage.

The server returned with the next course. “Yellowfin tuna,” he said. “Thinly pounded.” Aiden caught my eye, his smirk widening. “Served with foie gras, toasted baguette, and chives.” He disappeared like a veil of smoke.

“Don’t,” I said before Aiden could even open his mouth. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You weren’t about to say something along the lines of ‘That’s not how I usually like my things pounded’?”

He smirked. “I have more class than that. But while we’re on the subject. How do you like things pounded?”

“Are we still talking about fish here?”

“When were we not?” he said with far too much innocence. His hand found my leg, his fingers crawling up the slit to my thigh. “Have I mentioned I really like this dress?”

I laughed. “No, I had no idea.”

The next course arrived. “Monkfish,” the server said. “Accompanied by a warm saffron emulsion, fennel, and tomato confit.”

“Monkfish,” I said, intrigued.

“It has a firm, meaty texture that pairs well with the aromatic saffron and sweet tomato,” the server continued. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” I said, a blush already itching along my neck.

“You do have a history of enjoying firm, meaty things in your mouth,” Aiden said. “Or, at least, you did. Has that changed?”

Christ! My heart thudded against my ribcage as heat pooled between my legs. If he carried on this way, I didn’t know how we were going to make it to the end of the meal. I caught his eye. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find out.”

Aiden lifted his hand, signaling the server. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, sir?”

“How many courses did you say there were?”

“Ten.”

Aiden nodded, taking a deep breath in through his nose as the server stepped away.

“You’re looking a little flushed there,” I said. I slipped my foot out of my heel, brushing it up the side of his leg.

“I’m perfectly fine.” He swallowed hard. “Though I’ll be even better when I can get you out of that dress.” He then proceeded to describe exactly what he planned to do to me, in such exquisite detail it became hard for me to breathe. By the time the server brought the next course, I was so flushed he could have cooked the filet on my cheek.