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“They’re not you.”
“That’s very sweet of you.”
“It’s also true. I’m glad you agreed to come out tonight.”
“You’re different, Madox,” I barely whisper and wish I had a menu or something to hold in my hands. Instead, I shove them into my lap and wring my fingers around one another as Madox, with a look of slight vulnerability on his handsome face, asks me how. He stays perfectly still though, never showing anything more than a glimpse that he may be less than in control.
“It’s just …” I bite down on my bottom lip and try to put it into words. “When I remember us, you didn’t talk much about,” I pause as I struggle to come up with an explanation. “About anything, really. I never knew what you were thinking about back then.”
“Trish told me you prefer words of affirmation,” Madox tells me as he takes the beautifully folded napkin in front of him and lays it on his lap. “She told me we need to learn each other’s forms of communication, and I’m trying. I think she may have insight I lacked when we were together.”
Madox’s features could be carved of marble. They’re flawless and classically handsome; perfectly poised. My own feel like they’re crumbling at what he just told me. It’s a pain, but a good one. Like when you’ve given yourself to someone for the first time, and the powerful mix of emotions surges inside of you, looking for a way out—until they kiss you, hold you close. That’s the kind of pain I feel right now. Along with the panic of being too vulnerable.
“You’re too far away from me,” Madox tells me, cutting off my thoughts.
I have to grin at his statement. We’re alone in the room and I can only imagine what he’d do to me if we were closer. The very thought makes me squirm, and I can tell from the look in his eyes he would do whatever the hell he wanted with me back here.
“Do you remember when I ate you out under the table at … what was that place?” he asks me and my core heats immediately, remembering how he didn’t give me any notice, he simply ducked down under the table in the middle of the restaurant and slipped his hands up my skirt. All while I stared fixedly at the wall, trying not to scream in pleasure.
“Blue Hill.”
“Yes,” he says and nods, picking up his drink then adds, “you loved that place. How could I forget?” My heart flutters in a way that wishes I were closer to him right now. As close as I could be, but instead I stare down at the silverware, which makes my smile come back.
I was sure someone was looking at me when my silverware hit the plate of the chocolate lava cake with a loud clatter that night he crawled under the table at Blue Hill.
“My hand shook when I tried to drink my water, you know? It was hard to play it off.”
He flashes a wolfish grin back at me. “It was the day before your birthday, I remember that.”
“Is that why you did it? An early birthday present?”
He shakes his head once, a short and deliberate no. “I did it because I wanted to taste you right then and there.” My nipples pebble and my pussy clenches, instantly remembering how his tongue dove into me, how his fingers gripped my hips.
My voice is merely a murmur when I tell him, “You do always get what you want, don’t you?”
“Right now, I want to fuck you on this table. So you tell me, Sophie.”
My heart slams, the heat rising and flooding every inch of my body.
The nerves intensify until Madox nods his head toward someone over my shoulder.
“I sent in the order on my way here,” Madox says and waits for my reaction until I nod in understanding, peeking at the waiter as he makes his way over with our first dishes.
Right now, I wish I had something to give Madox. A gift of some kind. I don’t know what I could give a man like him, someone who has everything. I want to try too though. If he’s trying, I’m going to try with everything I have.
The young man is professional as he sets our food down in front of us. Bone white china plates with a fennel and leek citrus salad beautifully arranged on the dishes. As the waiter explains the first course, a silent lady in black dress pants and a gorgeous white blouse pours the paired wine, some Chenin Blanc.
It’s all beautiful and decadent, but I couldn’t name half the ingredients if someone told me they’d pay me a million dollars cash right now to tell me what I was eating.
Once we’re alone again, I thank Madox and change the subject to something that isn’t going to get me fucked on this table. “I like it when you order in advance, although then I can’t hide behind the menu.” With a flirtatious smile, I take a bite and savor the sweetness of the expensive dinner.
He smirks at me as if he knows exactly what I’m doing. And he goes with it. Giving me a moment to breathe and come down from the high I was just on, remembering what this man across from me is capable of.
There’s tension between us, but it’s the good kind.
“Good, isn’t it?” Madox asks, lifting the glass of wine to his lips, but not drinking until I answer him. I have to cover my mouth and finish swallowing when he smiles at me like that. Because when he does, I smile too.
He chuckles into his glass when I nod, and as he sips I tell him it’s all delicious.
