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“Right. Dinner.”
He smirks, coming in and pressing his lips to mine, spreading me open and making me taste myself. “Unless you’d rather go somewhere else. Take the sushi to go. I live two blocks from here.”
Two blocks. His place. Sushi to go. Frankly, I don’t care so much about the food. Swallowing down the small burst of nerves that tickle my heart, I stare into his eyes and say, “Lead the way.”
A smile lights up his face, making that dimple in his cheek pop. Such a boyish feature on a man who is anything but. He doesn’t hesitate. Retaking my hand the way he did earlier, we exit the office unobserved and then just as we reach our table, loaded with all the sushi we ordered along with a fresh round of tequila, lightning flashes so bright it reflects off the wet streets outside the window. Thunder cracks two seconds later, and then the power flickers and goes out.
Some women scream and a child starts crying.
“Shit,” he hisses, gripping my hand tighter. “You okay?”
“Um. Yes?” I think so. Adrenaline races through me and I take a calming breath. “It feels like something out of a horror movie.”
“Interesting. That’s exactly what the hostess said to me as I walked in.”
“Well, she was right.”
All around us people are talking in harried voices, anxious and unsettled. “Don’t move. A generator should kick on in—”
The lights snap back on. Some people are on their feet, others are gripping their tables as they stare around, unsure of what’s going on and what to do.
“How did you know about the generator?” I ask only to think better of it and add, “Come to think of it, how did you know about the office?”
His gaze skirts along mine briefly as he releases my hand so he can fish out his wallet and drop what appears to be four one-hundred dollar bills on the table. “I’m a silent owner. Let’s go unless you want the sushi.”
“It’s a lot of food to waste.”
“Give me a second then.”
He walks off, speaks to a random waiter, and then a second later he’s back and the waiter is boxing up our food and handing him a huge to-go bag.
I shake my head. This man is full of surprises. If his cock is anywhere nearly as talented as his mouth and fingers are, who needs food? I bet he could sustain me on orgasms alone. I can’t wait to tell Meils, my older sister—and guardian after our parents died—about this. She’ll naturally freak out, but that’s also part of the fun in telling her.
I’m almost tempted to take a covert selfie of me with Mr. Hottie McSterious, but that feels creepy, and I’d slaughter a guy if he ever did that to me.
Ugh. I just realized I’m going to have to move back in with my sister and her husband again. Though I will get my nieces out of that deal.
“Why do you have to move back in with your sister and her husband?”
“Huh?”
Callan smirks at me as I give him a brilliant impression of a deer in headlights.
“Did you not realize you were musing aloud?” He fights his amusement as he leads us to the exit.
A blush slams into my chest so fast and furious it’s like I just dipped my body in tomato sauce. “Um. No. I hadn’t. How much did I say?”
We’re both peering out the windows at the hellacious storm we’re about to venture into. “Well, let’s just say I’m relieved you don’t plan on taking a covert selfie of me, because yes, that’s creepy. Mr. Hottie McSterious is my new favorite nickname, and I’d be happy to spend the night sustaining you on orgasms, because yes, my cock is just as talented as my fingers and mouth are.”
Yeesh. I spilled it all. I make a mental note to ask my friends and sister if that’s something I do on the reg or if that orgasm truly did scramble my brain.
“I should be embarrassed, and I am, but all I caught from that is you confirming how talented your dick is.”
He laughs, loud and hard. “If we weren’t in public, I’d kiss you, but since we are, it’ll have to wait until we get to my place. Are you ready to make a run for it? I'm hoping your flip-flops will hold up.”
I glare balefully down at my feet. These are the only shoes I have right now. Same with my clothes. Dear Lord, that’s going to be a nightmare to deal with tomorrow.
“Me too, actually, but there’s only one way to find out and I’m not drunk enough to walk the streets of Boston barefoot.”
