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I twisted to face Milo, and I barely even got to breathe a word before he kissed me. The press of his lips to mine held us suspended for a long moment, as he coaxed my lips apart with a soft stroke of his tongue. I opened to him easily, thrilled by the warmth invading me as he deepened the kiss.
It was the kind of kiss that made me want to climb him right here. I wasn’t sure how much privacy we genuinely had, but I was more than willing to test the boundaries. The clearing of a throat had Pretty Boy lifting his head and I wanted to drown in him. He spared a glance past me.
“Two beers—cold, still in the bottle.” He rattled off the brand. “No glasses. One bottle of wine, a Riesling, also cold. One glass.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
He glanced down at me again. “Did I get the wine right?”
“You did. Someone has been doing their homework.”
“I pay attention.” He caressed my cheek then down to my neck before moving to pull out a chair for me. The theater box was large enough for a table of six, though it was just the two of us. Once I was seated, he took the chair next to mine. It put him in the corner and kept his back away from the curtains. The heavy velvet worked as a sound block.
Below us, the hum of conversation was punctuated by the tinkling of glasses and cutlery. There was a tinny piano playing a raucous French tune I half-remembered, but overall, it was—magical.
“Yes, you do,” I agreed as he settled a hand on my thigh. Leaning back, I studied him. “Do you really like it?”
“I haven’t even seen the show and already know I’m going to love it.” He shook his head, a wistful smile softening his whole expression. My stomach bottomed out and filled with the fluttering of a dozen butterflies at that expression.
Before I could ask him anything, the waitress returned with the wine and the beers. She poured my glass before setting his beers on the table. She popped the lid on the first, but he waved her off on the second.
“I’ll let you peruse the menu for the selections being offered this evening. But I need to get your order in shortly so it’s ready before the show starts. We try not to bring out food while they are performing.”
“That’s perfect,” I told her. “Just give us ten minutes.”
“Of course.”
When we were alone again, I looked at Milo and covered his hand with mine. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, Mayhem,” he said, his wistful smile turning warmer. “Better than fine. Just—reminded of something I’d forgotten.”
As much as I wanted to know, I didn’t press him. “What do you want to eat?”
“You.”
My face flamed, but at the same time… “That’s dessert, I was talking about dinner.”
“I’m talking about every meal of every day,” he told me, lifting my hand. “Mayhem…”
“You want me to soak my panties before we leave this show, don’t you?”
He chuckled, and it was so dark and sinful I was ready to throw in the towel on my own plans. “I want you to lose the panties before we leave the show.” He kissed my hand. “Don’t worry, I plan to help you with that.”
Shivers traced over my skin. “Anything you want, Pretty Boy.”
“Anything?” He grinned.
“Anything.”
ChapterThirty-Three
MILO
For as long as I could remember, my life had been a series of challenges. Those challenges ranged from making sure I could find something to eat in the kitchen when my mother, often strung out on drugs, was too out of it to fix dinner, to eventually ensuring my baby sister was fed. My life could be demarcated into two very clear periods—well, I supposed each section of my life could be.
There was before Ivy and after her. I could never regret her arrival, even if it had been one of the last straws for our deadbeat father who hadn’t ever wanted another child. He’d gotten tired of our mother using his product when he wanted to sell it. Jeff Hardigan had been a dick. I didn’t have the words for it when I was barely seven years old, but I did now.
He’d decided to walk out on Mom and on Ivy. He didn’t want either of them. He ordered me to go with him and I refused. I wouldn’t abandon them. I was not a selfish dick. They needed me. Mom needed me. Ivy needed me. Dad? He didn’t need anyone—apparently—and he walked.
