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ChapterNineteen
It was past nine o’clock by the time Nina skipped down the stoop of her parents’ home and slipped into the passenger seat, her eyes glistening with excitement.
“Hey, baby, how was your mother’s mee sua?” I asked before leaning over to give her a searing kiss with the dark promise of what I would do to her later.
“Delicious, as always,” she replied breathlessly, dropping back against the leather seat and buckling up. “My mother’s a fantastic cook. Every evening, she comes home from work, and no matter how long it takes, she makes two or three different dishes for dinner. She comes from the southern Fujian province, so lots of seafood, noodles, and soups.”
“Do you know how to cook those dishes?”
“Some of them,” she replied as she peered out to try to guess where I was taking her.
“I’m guessing you’re full, but I promised you a drink on your twenty-first birthday, and I never go back on my promises. We have reservations at a place in Midtown. You can have that dry martini I promised or your first lesson in champagne.”
Her eyes melted on me for remembering my promise of a martini the night I took her virginity, an adorable expression that made me want to take a bite out of her. “How about both?”
“Hmm, we’ll see. Have you had champagne?” I asked, curious as always about every aspect of her life.
“At Tasa’s eighteenth birthday-slash-high school graduation party,” she said, coughing into her fist as she turned three different shades of red. I chuckled. How could I forget when she caught me getting oral from one of her classmates, and I’d taunted her. It had been hot as fuck seeing her touch herself, but she was only eighteen and my sister’s closest friend, so when she ran away, I decided it was for the best.
It would’ve taken me a few minutes to get out of that particular situation, but if it had been anyone other than Nina, I would’ve pursued her. Relentlessly. Instead, I had to push the image of her fingering herself while watching me thrust inside another woman’s mouth out of my mind and keep going as if I didn’t rage with lust for her. Damn, I’d forgotten how much she’d turned me on with that special sauce of shock, fear, and intrigue on her face. And desire. So much desire for me it’d fanned the flames of my own need. Funny how life worked out, because here she was, sitting in my car, with my hand on her thigh.
We drove to one of my common haunts where I could find good French food, even better alcohol, and enough privacy. Handing my keys to the valet, I prodded her through the doors of the restaurant attached to the hotel not far from my apartment. We followed the hostess down the long center aisle. There was a long bar on one side and small, intimate tables on the other, both filled with customers. Walking over the black-and-white-checkered parquet floor, we passed beneath huge glittering Baccarat chandeliers before taking a right at the far end of the aisle to a small nook, off to the side. Nina slipped into the high-backed banquette. The silk-covered wall behind her exhibited a range of gilded-framed paintings stacked one on top of the other like at the Paris Salon.
Her wide eyes skipped from place to place, taking in the sumptuous surroundings, before returning to the hostess, who offered her a menu.
“Which should we start with?” I asked.
“Champagne,” she replied breathlessly with glistening eyes.
“A bottle of the Louis de Sacy Brut Originel,” I ordered without bothering to look at the menu. “And two dozen oysters.”
My gaze rested on Nina. Her eyes bulged out.
“Have you ever eaten oysters before?”
“I’ve eaten fried oysters, and my mother makes a killer oyster omelet, but the oysters are much smaller…and cooked.”
“Good, then, you’ll experience your first raw oyster from my hand,” I said as I took her palm in mine.
Our waitress came over soon after with a silver vasque, showed me the bottle to inspect, and efficiently popped it open. A busser placed two intricate crystal champagne flutes on the table, and the waitress filled them with the bubbly. Moments later, two plates of oysters were swept in front of us.
“To your twenty-first birthday, Nina,” I toasted, holding my glass high before clinking it lightly against hers.
“To my birthday,” she murmured back and took a small sip.
Licking her bottom lip, she hummed and gave me a bright smile that almost brought me to my knees. “Delicious.”
“No, you’re delicious,” I replied.
Her eyes knocked from right to left, pink flagging her high cheekbones. “Shush, you’re so loud.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “I don’t care who overhears me. You taste better than the rarest champagne on this menu.”
“Oh my God. You did not just say that,” she hissed.
I loved it when she got flustered by my forwardness. Touching the jade wolf head, I said, “You’re still wearing it.”
“Ugh, I couldn’t take it off.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “You did that on purpose. Were you testing me?”
