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I relayed the destination to the driver, and as we merged into the evening traffic, I found myself unable to resist touching her again. My fingers traced the back of her hand, and I noticed her shiver slightly.
"Are you cold?" I asked, concern lacing my tone. "I can ask the driver to turn up the heat."
"I'm fine," Erika replied, her voice a little breathless. She glanced at me; her eyes filled with curiosity. "This is... unusual."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Unusual how?"
"What is this we’re doing?" she asked, her tone guarded.
"A meal and conversation," I replied easily, leaning a bit closer to gauge her reaction. "Do you want more?"
"Not at the moment," she said, her voice firm but not unfriendly.
I nodded, though desire coiled tightly in my chest. I wanted more. I wanted her in my bed tonight. But I also knew if we had sex, it would likely be the last time—although something about Erika made me reconsider that rule. There was an unexpected connection here, one that I wasn’t ready to lose.
"Ever?" I pressed, my voice dropping to a near whisper.
Erika turned to face me fully, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Lincoln, aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? I know your type. You think you can charm the panties off any woman, and when you get what you want, you forget their number."
I frowned, a little taken aback. "Is that how you see me? You make me sound like a jerk, but I think the same can be said about you. How many men like Wayne do you have on a string?"
"None," she shot back, her tone sharp but honest. "I make no promises. I like to date, and I like variety."
"And I suspect no man has been able to nail you down," I remarked, my voice carrying a hint of admiration.
Erika’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Interesting choice of words."
"Are you referring to the word nail?" I asked, a playful grin creeping across my face.
"I am," she replied, her voice teasing.
"Why?" I challenged, leaning in closer.
"Isn’t it a reference to sex?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"It is, but not in the context that I’m using it," I clarified, my tone light. "I’m sure there are plenty of men who would love to spend time with you."
"There have been a few," she admitted, shrugging as if it were of little consequence. "I’m having fun."
Without thinking, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. For the past hour, I’d been wondering what it would be like to feel her skin against my lips. I’d imagined pressing them to other areas, like the delicate space between her breasts, but for now, I’d settle for just this—a brief, innocent touch.
Erika seemed surprised when I pulled away, but before I could gauge her reaction, she reached out, wrapping her hand around the back of my neck. Her lips found mine in a kiss that was as unexpected as it was electrifying. Her sweet breath mingled with mine, and I had to fight the urge to deepen the kiss, to take control. But she let me go just seconds later, pulling back and gazing at me, her face illuminated by the passing lights outside.
"That was nice," I murmured, my voice betraying the awe I felt.
"It was," she agreed, her tone playful. "Play your cards right, Elliott, and you might get another."
I chuckled, the sound low and warm, as we pulled up to Lotus Flower. Normally, the place was packed, but it was late, and the crowd had thinned. I handed the driver some money and stepped out of the cab, turning to offer Erika my hand as she exited. Her coat slipped open slightly, revealing a taut leg that sent a jolt of desire through me. What I wouldn’t do to bury my face between her thighs.
“Would you like a booth or a table?” I asked, holding one of the double glass doors open for Erika as she stepped through.
The warmth of the restaurant immediately enveloped us, a welcome contrast to the chilly night air outside. Lotus Flower was bathed in deep reds and yellows, the colors creating a rich, inviting atmosphere. Decorative lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a soothing glow over each table, their soft light reflecting in Erika's eyes as she took in the surroundings.
“A booth, I think,” she said, her voice thoughtful as she surveyed the room.
The hostess approached dressed in sleek black from head to toe appeared, leading us to a red vinyl semi-circular booth that seemed to promise both comfort and privacy. Erika removed her coat, and I took it from her, carefully folding it before I shrugged off my own long tan coat and did the same. We both slid into the booth, instinctively sitting close together, a silent statement of our growing connection, even though there was plenty of room to spread out.
As I placed our coats on the seat beside me, I picked up the menu, my fingers brushing hers briefly. The restaurant was only half full, but I knew it would be packed again once the clubs closed around three. Lotus Flower stayed open until 6 a.m. on weekends, catering to the city's hungry night owls.
