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I asked him about it when we were seated at our table, enjoying a beautiful bottle of wine. “It’s great they had a community program,” I said, tucking into my Beef Wellington. The starter, lobster bisque, had been divine, but the main course was out of this world. Melting meat, rich, complex gravy and the lightest pastry I’d ever tasted.
“Yes,” said Alex. “That’s what I love about the Bills – both the team and the fans. The community spirit. Some of the fans came up with this idea, in fact.” He sipped his wine.
I sipped mine. “This is delicious,” I said.
“The 2017 Barolo has more weight, depth and roundness than the following years’ offering,” he told me. “Not that I drink much, but when I do, I like the best.”
I smiled. “How is a bottle of pre-mixed rum and ginger ale the best?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I knew I was taking a risk, referring to the night that we’d ended up in a very delicious, and very compromising position on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know why I said it. I found myself wanting to flirt – for real. The media part of the evening had finished by then, and we could relax and enjoy the meal.
But Alex didn’t pick up on the comment. Instead, he just smiled and embarked on his main course – he’d gone for the Beef Wellington too. We ate in happy silence for a while, and I noticed a few glances coming my way from the other tables. I felt incredible – young and sexy and gorgeous. And yes, I admit it – it was thrilling to be out with an extremely sexy, athletic and wildly successful older man. I didn’t care if that was shallow. For one night only, I was going to enjoy it.
We were both super relaxed as we finished up our main courses, and when the server brought us another amuse-bouche between courses, and the sommelier came over to consult us on dessert wines, we enjoyed talking with them. I could tell that both of them were pleased that Alex had taken the time with them, and I basked in the glow of good conversation, good food, good wine and good company too. It may have been a fake date, but it was the best date I’d ever had. As our pistachio torte with dark chocolate ganache and spun-sugar caramel crisp arrived (we’d chosen the same dessert, too), I found myself telling him about my new venture, the online vintage style magazine. He was really interested and listened intently. Maybe he’s not as self-absorbed as you thought at first, I found myself thinking. But then, I said something about it being hard to find the time, with Maddy, and the energy, with the lack of sleep and support, and he went all grumpy and irritated, like he had been when I’d first met him.
“So, you’re a single mom, Mary-Beth,” he said. “Get over it. My mom raised the five of us while my father was out on the oil rigs, gone for months at a time. And she always had a smile on her face.”
“Oh, well, good for her!” I replied, stabbing my fork into my torte, suddenly feeling super-triggered. “I’m obviously just a completely useless failure to find it so hard.”
He looked shocked at that, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, “That’s bullshit,” he growled. “Don’t put yourself down, fishing for compliments.”
“As if I’d do that,” I snapped. “You obviously haven’t ever had a genuine confidence crisis in your life. Of course, you haven’t – not you, Mr. Arrogant Asshole.”
I blushed, but I didn’t say sorry either, although I could see I’d been harsh. He didn’t push back, he just sucked in a deep breath and glared at me. The same glare that Kayla also did so well.
I was about to get another punch in – completely regretting opening up to him about my dreams if he was just going to trash them – but then I found myself smiling. Maybe it was the wine. “You can stop with that face at me,” I told him. I did the glare back at him.
He glared even harder at me for a moment and then he smiled. “What I’m saying is, you’re clever and talented and creative, and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you to achieve whatever you want. You just need to quit whining and being a pain in the ass and get some discipline, get some drive.”
I gasped in shock and nudged his leg hard under the table. I couldn’t believe it! “How dare you say that to me when…”
But he cut in, leaning across the table. I caught the scent of him and my body fired up with desire. “This magazine idea of yours is great, but it’s not going to create itself. You have to want it. You have to go after it. Make it happen! Take what’s yours! Claim your future!” He was riled, passionate, powerful – like he was about to lead the Bills to victory. It was incredibly sexy.
I sipped my wine, and looked at him from under my eyelashes, pulling my shoulders back and arching my back, making my breasts thrust out towards him. He glanced at them, and I felt a frisson of wanting between us. “Jeez, chill out, old man,” I said teasingly. I reached across the table and tried to help myself to his caramel crisp, but he caught my wrist and held it tight. Our eyes locked.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asked, his voice throaty, low, thick with desire.
I traced the rim of the wine glass with my red-polished fingernails. He watched intently, licking his lips. “Yes. I. Do.”
8
ALEX
Mary-Beth and I left The Latham without having coffee. We spoke to the hotel manager on the way out, and thanked the sommelier and our server again, and all the time heat fizzed and crackled between us.
Soon we were back in the car, sitting close to one another this time, Mary-Beth’s leg against mine, our hands clasped tight. The fucking gorgeous red dress has a slit up to the thigh on the left side, and it was scrambling my brain. All thoughts of fake date and best friend’s daughter and employee and too young for you went out of the car window as we raced through the balmy night, back to my apartment.
Mary-Beth squeezed my hand and then leaned over and whispered into my ear. “I am only just holding on here.”
I stroked her hair back from her ear, feeling her shake a little beneath my fingers. I leaned in and took a risk, brushing her ear with my lips as I spoke. “I am only just resisting the urge to slide my fingers up the slit in that fucking mind-blowing dress and push your panties to one side and slip them deep inside you.”
She gasped and pulled me towards her and then we were kissing hard, our lips crushed together, our hands all over each other. Wanting, exploring, tasting… I couldn’t wait to get her into my bed.
We had to pull it together briefly when we got into the apartment, but not for long. Maddy was sound asleep, and Clare reported that everything had been fine. Then she had some kind of psychic women’s communication thing with Mary-Beth and gave me a knowing smile. They’d hugged tight, she’d handed Mary-Beth the baby monitor and then she’d vanished from the apartment minutes later. Clarissa’s PA had collected Kayla earlier in the evening, as it was changeover day for her.
As the door closed behind Clare, Mary-Beth and I stood in the hallway for a moment, looking at one another, hunger building in our eyes. And then… it was on.
She snaked her arms round my waist and pulled my hips towards hers. I ground into her, my cock growing rock hard in moments. I kissed her, hungry for the taste of her. She kissed me back, just as hard, exploring my mouth with her tongue. I worked my tongue over hers and, at the same moment, a bolt of desire shot through both of us, making me push my cock hard up against her clit. She groaned into my mouth, loud and free, and the sound of her drove me wild.
“I bet you’re really loud when you come,” I whispered into her ear, hearing my own voice deep and gruff and slurred with desire.
