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Who the fuck picks up a fungus off the ground and thinksoh hey that looks delicious, I think I’ll take a bite? And how do we knowfor surethe one we’re taking a bite of isn’t poisonous? It seems like an awfully big gamble for something that tastes like dirt anyway.
Don’t get me started on the fact that these arewildmushrooms. I have too much to live for to give it all up on a fucking wild mushroom, that’s for damn sure.
She finishes her soup, and since I snagged her scallop, I push my bowl over to her. She lifts a shoulder, and then she eats it.
She fucking eats it.
As if she could get any hotter than she already was, she practically licks that goddamn bowl clean, and seeing her goafter it makes my cock beg for release—especially when she licks the spoon. If she wants to lick my cock like that…
Thank God I’m sitting and my legs are under the table because I sure as shit wouldn’t be able to hide this bulging motherfucker right now.
The fourth course is more fish, which she pushes toward me with a laugh that sounds like a song, and next we’re given a sorbet to cleanse the palate, whatever the fuck that means.
The main dish is Steak Diane, which is a filet mignon, and I watch her with a slackened jaw as she cuts into the medium-rare filet and closes her eyes in delight at how delicious it is.
And when she moans?
All bets are off.
There’s no way I’m leaving tonight without hearing her moan like that for me.
I drain what’s left in my glass of whiskey, and I nod to her empty glass. “Would you like another martini?”
She nods, and her eyes find mine. Those green irises sparkle at me with mischief. “I like it extra dirty.”
“Are we still talking about the martini?”
She doesn’t laugh the way I think she will. Instead, that sparkle seems to dissipate as heat fires between us. “If we’re not, then I like it filthy.” She raises a brow as if she’s daring me, but I’m not sure what the dare is.
I hold a hand to my chest like I’m having a heart attack because for a second, it feels like I am. My chest races as I suck in a breath and let go of it slowly. She’s affecting me, that’s for damn sure.
I push my chair back, hopeful that the giant boner in my pants that are a bit too fitted is hidden enough beneath my paisley jacket, and I stand and head over toward the bar, shifting my cock as I walk to try to get it under control.
It doesn’t help. Shifting it is only giving it attention, and once I give it a little attention, it simply begs for more until it gets what it wants.
And maybe there’s a chance. Maybe the evening will end and Desiree—with her gorgeous green eyes and long, red hair and sexy dress—will be wrapping her legs around me.
A guy can hope, anyway.
I order myself more whiskey and an extra dirty martini for the woman who suddenly feels like my date, and when I return to the table, the chocolate mousse dessert is waiting for me.
I set the drink in front of her, and she holds it up with a thank you.
And then she says, “To whatever happens after that dance you promised me.”
“Indeed.” I touch my glass to hers, and we each take a drink.
Desiree picks up her spoon and pretends like she’s going to take a bite off my own plate, and I pick up my knife as a threat in jest. I’d never actually stab someone’s hand for stealing my dessert, but the mousse looks fucking fantastic.
She giggles, and hearing the girlish sound come from someone who isallwoman makes her all the more interesting. It makes me want to get to know who she is, what she’s doing here, why she claimed the ticket I gave to my brother at the last minute…and everything in between.
And that’s a strange thought.
Typically, when I hook up with a woman, it’s nothing more than a hookup. But Desiree is fascinating. She’s tempting. She’s gorgeous, and obviously the attraction between us was instant, intense, and insane. Yet the longer we sit together, making each other laugh as we make sexual innuendos, the more I could see myself enjoying functions like this with her as my date.
“So how’d you end up as my plus-one tonight?” I ask.
“I was a late addition, and I guess Coach said there was a ticket available.” She shrugs, not really giving me much to work with.
