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“Many times.”
“You don’t seem like a man who enjoys this sort of thing.”
He grabbed the stem of his glass and took a drink. “Part of the job.”
“Fine dining?” I asked. “You booked this reservation in advance but didn’t want to waste it?”
“I didn’t have a reservation.”
“Then how did you get in?”
“I own it.”
I stiffened at his announcement because that explanation made perfect sense and I should have guessed. He told me he owned a lot of businesses in Paris because it was the only way to wash all his money.
He grabbed the bottle and refilled my glass.
Sometimes I forgot who Bartholomew was. To me, he was just my lover, but to everyone else, he was a billionaire drug kingpin.
“Have you been here before?”
“Once—and I loved it.”
“With whom?”
“A client.” I noticed the way he ignored my compliment. Probably didn’t care if people liked the restaurant or not. “He’s super rich, so he was able to get a reservation.” They asked for a fifty percent deposit, and that was five hundred euros. I didn’t have that kind of money.
He drank from his glass again.
“This is our first time out… It’s nice.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
“You don’t do this sort of thing, do you?” I could tell this experience wasn’t as fulfilling for him as it was for me.
“For business. Not pleasure.”
“You’ve never taken a woman on a date before?”
He gave a subtle shake of his head. “Dinner just postpones sex, and sex is all I’m interested in.”
“What about with me?”
His dark eyes were settled on me, still like a calm lake, a deep brown like the soil after a rain. The restaurant was decorated with gold and soft lighting, and it deepened the shadows under his jawline. Time seemed to pass differently for him than it did for everyone else, because long pauses of silence didn’t unnerve him. “The situations aren’t comparable.”
“Why not?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it, to treasure the fact that we were together again, that he was mine and not someone else’s. Our time together still felt like a dream after the nightmare of his absence.
“Because you’re my woman.”
The second the door was closed, he was on me.
The top of my dress was pulled down to expose my tits, and the bottom was hiked up to my stomach. He slid his thumbs inside my little black thong and pulled it over my ass before he guided me onto the bed.
The dress was a band around my stomach, and my heels were still secured to my ankles. I lay there and watched him get undressed, taking his time popping every button, his eyes glued to me. He pulled off the collared shirt, showing a ripped physique that was so strong and tight. His pants came next, that fat dick coming free and just as ready to fuck me as it had been before we’d left for the restaurant.
Fuck, he was so hot.
He moved up my body then positioned me the way he wanted, folding my legs like a pretzel, tilting my pelvis so he could slide right into my slickness.
