AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The server returned to the table and explained, “Acassouletis a French stew made with beans. Ourcassouletis made with duck, and the beans are stewed with pork to give them a richer flavor.”
“So, pork and beans?” Duke raised his brows.
“Yes, sir. And duck.”
Duke looked at me. “It’s the French version of beanie weanies.”
“No doubt,” I said with a smile.
“We’ll have one of those,” Duke said.
“Excellent.” The server smiled. “What else can I get for you?”
I looked at Duke. “We’ve gotta do it.”
“Do what?”
“Snails. We’ve got to get the snails.”
“Seriously?” he asked.
I grinned. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Duke looked at the server. “And an order of snails, please.”
The server nodded and took away our menus. Duke turned to me, angling his body so that he blocked the rest of the restaurant.
“Speaking of adventure,” Duke said, his voice low.
“I know that tone,” I said, arching a brow.
He settled one arm on the top of the booth, and the other, he moved underneath the table to rest on my thigh. His fingers crept over my dress, playing with the material until he inched it up my thighs.
“You’re not serious,” I hissed.
He shot me a devious grin. “I’m serious.”
His hand continued to wander, until he grasped my thigh and slowly eased my legs open.
“The question is,” he breathed, his head tilting so he was whispering in my ear, “will I be able to make you come before the food gets here? And will you be quiet?”
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I stated, my heart thundering in my ears.
“And you love every second of it.” His finger teased the edge of my thong before sliding under it from the side. He settled the pad of his finger against my cleft and then refused to move. I had no choice but to wiggle against him.
“Easy,” he said. “This is my game.”
“You’re all about the games,” I gasped.
After a few beats, his finger stroked me, dipping in and out of my body, but not far. Just a bit, every so often. Teasing me, setting my nerves on fire.
Though Duke’s body was blocking me from sight, I knew that any moment, our server could appear at our table.
Duke thrust his finger deep into me, our eyes meeting.
My skin prickled and sweat broke out along my brow. Duke looked cool and collected.
“I’m disappointed in you,” he whispered, biting my earlobe. “You’re usually a hair trigger.”
