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My chest tightened with contentedness. The night might be nearing an end, but Neri and I were only just beginning. We would go home. Slip into bed. And begin a new day together because we never had to say goodbye. We’d committed to share our lives, which was the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for.
If there wasn’t a table in the way, I would’ve grabbed my sea-wedded wife and kissed her.
A black-suited waiter looked our way, then glanced at his watch.
I doubted we had much time before they asked us to leave.
Doing my best to tame my body, I ordered, “Finish your dessert. It’s late.”
Neri looked me up and down with blue fire. “I’d rather have you for dessert.”
“Stop looking at me like that,” I growled, wincing as my cock hardened to unbearable levels.
“Like what?” she murmured.
“Like you want to fuck me on this table in front of everyone.”
She shivered. “That mental image shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is.”
“Fucking hell, canim. Behave.”
She laughed so freely, so happily, I was stunned silent by just how gorgeous she was. How stunning and wonderful and mine.
A waitress appeared from the kitchen, shooting us a scowl before she went to the waiter by the bar and pointed at the door.
I got the hint.
Stabbing my own dessert—an Australian-Turkish fusion of baklava and pavlova, I cocked my chin at Neri’s plate. “I’m guessing we have five minutes before they forcibly remove us. I suggest you finish what you want before that happens.”
Huffing, she gathered another forkful.
I chewed on the sweet concoction, pleasantly surprised. I’d ordered the dish as I’d had a hankering for a taste of home. My mind had swum with memories of my mother’s delicious baklava and the way she’d smash the pistachios with a rolling pin instead of putting them in a blender. She always said they tasted better pummelled into dust. I’d always joked that the minute she put on her baking apron, she got violent.
“How’s the blend of cuisines?” Neri asked, eyeing up my plate as she finished her third mouthful.
We’d shared a four-course meal from breads of the world, a starter that took Vietnamese noodles and twisted them with Greek salads, followed by a main with Indonesian roots and Italian flair.
I’d never had food quite like it.
“It kinda works, actually.” I chuckled. Scooping up another spoonful, I leaned across the table. “Try it.”
Neri’s eyes flashed as her lips closed around my spoon.
She took her time sliding the morsel off, and my cock throbbed as she never looked away from me. White cream smeared her bottom lip as she sat back and moaned. “So good.”
“You have got to stop driving me insane,” I muttered, dropping my eyes to my plate.
“Take me home then, so I can drive you insane in private.”
I groaned and pushed my dessert away. “I brought you here so we could keep our hands off each other and talk. I want to know how you’re feeling now you’re in your last year of your degree. I want to know how your latest designs for the underwater spheres are going with Teddy. I want to make plans with you about what we’ll do when we get back to Port Douglas. Are we moving back in with your parents? Are we renting something? Should we try to buy like Teddy and Eddie are?” I looked up. “I want to make sure you know that I love everything about you and not just our insane sex life. It’s your birthday and—”
“And you’ve done exactly what you said you would,” Neri breathed. “You ruined me this morning, worshipped me with our incredible tattoos, and now you’ve seduced me over dinner.”
Standing, she placed her napkin down and held out her hand. “I know you love everything about me, Aslan. And I adore you for wanting to ask about my studies and our future. I had similar ideas tonight. I was going to finally make you tell me about your home back in Turkey. I want to know what your house was like, what you did on weekends, what your favourite place was, but...”
Coming to my side of the table in her gold-glittery sandals with her sunset dress dancing around her ankles, she entrapped me in her crystal-blue stare. “We can talk after. We can snuggle and whisper after...but only once you take me home and show me why there’s a box of toys hidden in the wardrobe.”
I froze as the air turned electric. My heart hammered, but I tried to play innocent. “What box?”
She snickered, but her eyes remained hot and sharp. “A box with floggers, cuffs, nipple clamps, rope—”
“Fuck, keep your voice down,” I hissed, swooping to my feet.
She laughed with throaty invitation. “Is that part of my birthday surprise too?”
My hands twitched to rearrange myself, to try to find relief from the desperate agony she always drowned me with. But the waiter never took his eyes off us, and the sound of the cash register pinging hinted heavily that it was time for us to leave.
