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He arches an eyebrow.
I laugh. “I mean, the company next door. The one in this box is just fine.”
Caleb smirks even wider.
“You know what I mean,” I laugh, flushing at the double entendre. But my big mouth seems to have worked, Caleb visibly relaxes beside me as we settle in for the show.
I pick up the opera glasses and peer through them as the lights dim and the orchestra starts to play.
I shiver with anticipation. I am in public, surrounded by NYC society, with Caleb by my side. It feels like the start of something, a glimpse of the life we can share as soon as this current drama is settled.
Except, as the opera gets underway, I notice Caleb’s not looking at the stage, but at the box next to ours, where Olivia and Sebastian are visible, their heads bent together as they whisper, ignoring the show.
Damn them.
The music swells, and a singer launches into a plaintive aria. I want to distract him, so I slide my hand into his and squeeze.
He gives a vague squeeze back, eyes not leaving our enemies.
Hmm, it’s going to take something more to get his mind off their betrayal.
Boldly, I move my hand to his lap, out of sight behind our balcony wall. I let it rest there a moment, over his crotch, and then I stroke slowly through the fabric of his pants.
Caleb inhales sharply.
He turns, giving me a questioning look. I smile back, and slowly trace the outline of his cock, already stiffening beneath my gentle touch.
“You look tense,” I whisper softly. “You should relax.”
The music is playing loudly, so I know nobody can hear us. To anyone watching in the audience, it looks like we’re just casually whispering about the show.
They can’t see my hand beneath the balcony, stroking him again.
But Caleb catches my hand and pulls it away. “Naughty girl. Keep doing that, and I’ll be anything but relaxed,” he murmurs.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask.
He nods, but there’s a new wicked glint in his gaze as he looks at me. Taking in my gown, and how the long folds part mid-thigh in a dramatic slit.
“But you know what would relax me?” he murmurs, dangerously tempting. “Watching you come your brains out in front of all these people.”
I gasp. “Caleb…”
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Turnaround’s fair play.” Caleb challenges me softly. “Or are you worried you won’t keep from screaming my name with my fingers buried in your cunt?”
I feel a rush of liquid heat between my thighs. My skin prickles. My nipples tighten.
Caleb sees the stiff peaks through my gown and smirks. “I thought so.”
He reaches down and nudges the fabric of my gown out of the way so that it splits at the slit. His hand rests on my bare upper thigh, just sitting there. Heavy.
Promising what’s to come.
I shift in anticipation, pulse already racing.
Then his fingertips trail to my inner thigh, lightly grazing the skin in a hypnotic circle, over and over, until I’m panting.
“I could stop right here,” he murmurs, giving me a look of pure dominance. “Leave you panting like this for the rest of the night. Imagining how good it would feel if I only touched you…”
