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I don’t laugh. Her words are a reminder that I almost lost her last night. “I know the perfect place.”
I take her to a small tapas restaurant near the university. It’s one I frequent fairly often. The decor is simple, but the food is Spanish and extremely good. The proprietor, Monica, greets me warmly. “Buenas noches, Tomas. ¿Qué tal?” Not waiting for an answer, she bustles away to get us water.
Ali looks at me curiously. “You come here often?”
“At least once a week.”
Monica re-appears with a bottle of water and two glasses. She smiles at Ali. “You want to order from the menu or be surprised?”
“I don’t know?” She looks at me for guidance.
“I always ask to be surprised.”
“Then I’ll do the same thing, thank you.”
The proprietor nods in approval. “I’ll be right back with some bread,” she says and disappears into the kitchen again.
When she’s out of sight, Ali smirks at me. “I would have thought you were too much of a control freak to allow yourself to get surprised.”
“You're about to find out how much of a control freak I can be at Casanova.”
If I’m expecting Ali to back down, I should really know better. Her eyes sparkle with anticipation. “I’m looking forward to it.”
The conversation over dinner stays light. As always, the food is delicious. Ali particularly likes the tortilla de patatas. “This is delicious,” she says. “Does the food here remind you of your mother’s cooking? Is that why you come here so often?”
“Not my mom. My sister is the chef in the family. When Carlota was nine, she threw a tantrum, refusing to eat what my parents cooked and announcing that she could make a better meal. She’s been handling kitchen duties ever since. My parents kept worrying that they were exploiting her, but Carlota loves feeding people.”
She tilts her head to the side. “This might be the first time you’ve talked about your family. What was your childhood like?”
“Normal. Happy.” I don’t want to talk about my family right now. “Did you like being tied up this morning?”
She blinks at the sudden change in subject and glances around to see if Monica is within earshot before she replies. “Yes,” she murmurs, her voice low. “I did. But you already knew that.”
That’s interesting—Ali is shy. And because I’m an evil bastard, I intend to have a lot of fun with that.
“What someone enjoys in the moment and how they feel about it afterward aren’t always the same. No reservations?”
“None.” She wets her lower lip with her tongue. “Are you going to tie me up at Casanova?”
I’m going to tie her up and so much more. Anticipation dances through my veins. Her plate is empty, and so are the dishes in front of us. “Are you done?” I ask gruffly, signaling Monica for the check. “Let’s continue this discussion at the club.”
41
ALINA
Casanova is nothing like what I expected. I knew the memberships were expensive, but it’s still a sex club, and I guess I assumed it would look ever-so-slightly seedy.
I was very wrong. The space is luxurious but not ostentatiously so. Gold chandeliers offer dim but warm lighting. The carpet is plush, and people are elegantly dressed. If I didn’t know what Casanova was, I’d assume this was an upscale lounge where the rich and beautiful hung out. “Nobody is walking around naked with a collar around their neck,” I whisper to Tomas once we surrender our phones and enter the club. “In fact, nobody is naked. I thought there’d be a lot more of that.”
He chuckles. “It’s early by club standards. Give it time.”
An attendant leads us to a booth in the back. I gawk as I follow her, drinking in everything. To my left, a long bar lines the wall. A man sitting there alone nods to Tomas in greeting. A pair of women chatting with the bartender stop their conversation and openly check him out as we pass by. My lips tighten at their blatant once-over, and I reach out and link my arm with his in a proprietary manner. Back off, ladies. He’s mine.
Even if it’s only for tonight.
We pass the dance floor and reach our booth. I slide in, and Tomas sits across from me. “Enjoy your evening,” the attendant says. “Please ring the bell if you need service. Can I get you started with something to drink?”
“Sparkling water for me, please,” Tomas replies. “Slice of lemon.”
