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You are mind-blowing.I glance down at her profile.
She shuffles her feet. "I wish I’d worn something more formal."
"You look great."
She scowls at me over her shoulder. "I’m wearing slacks and a sweater, and have barely any makeup on—"
"You look like yourself, and I love that."
She glances away. "Don’t do that."
"Do what?"
"Be all nice to me. It confuses me."
"You’d rather I command you to do what I want, is that it?"
Her scowl deepens. "I’d like you to try that, asshole."
I wrap my arm around her waist and draw her up against me. "I have a feeling you might enjoy it entirely too much. Is that your kink,Stellina? Would you rather I not give you a choice and take what I want?"
Her breath hitches. She opens and shuts her mouth, but no words come out. I bring my other arm up to wind it around her neck. "If I touched you between your thighs right now, would I find you wet and aching for me?"
"Of course not," she claims. Her chin trembles. The scent of vanilla deepens. Goddamn, she really is turned on. The blood drains to my groin. My pants feel too tight. She must sense the evidence of my arousal stabbing into her ass, for she stiffens. A trembling runs down her body, and my thighs tighten. If I stand here a second longer, I’m liable to turn her around and kiss her, right before I throw her down, tear off her panties, and bury myself inside of her. And that won’t do. Not when I’m trying to behave. Not when I’m trying to show her she can trust me enough to be patient. That I’ll let her come to me of her own volition. I release her, then brush the hair off the back of her neck and kiss her nape. She shivers.
"Come on, let’s feed you."
I step back, then twine my fingers with hers and tug on her. She turns and follows me. I lead her over to our table—the best in the house, tucked away at the back of the restaurant, with a panorama of the city spread out before us. I make sure she’s seated before pushing her chair in, then walk over to take mine. The waiter materializes almost instantly. I order our drinks, whiskey for me, a tequila-based cocktail for her. When the waiter leaves, she turns to me.
"Presumptuous of you to assume you know what I like."
"Presumptuous of you not to realize that I know exactly what you like. I also know that you only eat gluten-free food."
"How do you know I eat only gluten-free? Also—" she narrows her gaze "—is this how you’re going to be all evening?"
"To answer your first question, I made sure to acquaint myself with your tastes. As for the second question, like how?"
"Like someone who’s going to anticipate my every move?"
"How am I doing so far?" I smirk.
She shakes her head, and a reluctant smile curves her lips. "If I say anything, it’ll only go to your already swollen head."
I raise my hand. "I solemnly swear that… I’m up to no good."
She blinks. "You quotedHarry Potter?"
"Why are you so surprised?"
"You don’t look like the kind to enjoyHarry Potter?"
"What do you think I’d enjoy instead?" I ask.
"Let’s see," she pretends to count. "Sacrificing baby goats? Scaring those who dare cross you? Shooting down people?" Her face falls. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that."
"No, I’m glad you brought it up. I’m sorry you had to see that,Stellina. That, on top of you being shot? God knows, your mind must be reeling from it."
"You forget, I grew up in the Mafia. Violence is not new to me."
