by Leigh, Ember
She blinked, letting the words sink in. “You did?”
“Duh.” He grinned.
“You never used to make reservations,” she said, pushing her door open, tugging her dress down once she stood outside. “How was I supposed to know you got smart about stuff like this?”
He stood on the sidewalk, offering his arm as he waited for her to join him. They walked slowly toward the squat brick building lined with intermittent bushes. He held the door open for her, and she went inside, to be immediately accosted by the rich scent of garlic.
“Oh, heavens. Coglietti’s.” She sighed, grabbing at Lex’s hand as they navigated toward the hostess stand. Lex gave his name, and the hostess immediately led them into the dining room.
From the outside, the restaurant was unassuming and almost plain. But inside, it was a riot of reds and smells; wooden floor, rich crimson wallpaper, red cloth napkins and every variety of red wine to choose from.
The hostess led them toward the back of the restaurant, where high-backed circular booths sat in a row. It offered privacy and intimacy. Lex had probably specifically requested this part of the restaurant.
“Enjoy your meal,” the hostess said, eyes lingering on Lex before she tore herself away.
Lila scooted onto the soft, highbacked cushion. Each circular booth area faced away from the one beside it, so the only other person they might see through the course of their dinner was the server. Lex slid in beside her.
“This is nice,” Lila said, dragging a fingertip over the shiny silverware setting. “We never were able to get the secret back booths when we came before.”
“The perks of being older,” Lex said, reaching for her hand. He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles. “And having some sweet connections.”
“Did you pull strings to get this reservation?”
“Only a couple,” he said, his grin widening. “The important ones. The owner’s son might be a client of mine.”
“Ah.” She arched a brow, unable to fight the grin. “Might be. You’re high rolling, Lex.”
They perused the drinks menu, deciding on a bottle of red wine. When the waitress returned to take their order, they both ordered the same appetizer at the same time. “Bruschetta.”
Lila laughed, shoving him. They placed their orders for the main dish too, and when the waitress retreated with their menus, Lex turned to her, grinning slyly.
“I never thought I’d see the day I was lookin’ at you in Coglietti’s again.”
His words warmed her. “Me neither.” She pressed her shoulder against him, loving his firmness. Something about this place felt exactly like home. His molten umber gaze on her. Marinara wafting through the air. How safe she felt while captured in his embrace. Coglietti’s took her back to a time and place when things were good.
“There’s a couple other places I never thought I’d see you again, too.” He wet his bottom lip as he smoothed a hand over her shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Maybe we should work on those later.”
She grinned when his other hand reached her bare knee. She widened her legs a little, practically a reflex, wanting the heat of his touch to slink up her thigh, to touch where it counted most.
“We’ll see how things go,” she said, voice lowering. He nuzzled his face against hers, making her eyes drift shut. The feel of him was too sweet, too perfect. It made her pine for him in a way that defied reason. Made her miss the past five years they hadn’t spent together, because it had deprived her of this divine union. Even still, she needed to keep her head above water. Needed to be rational. “But for now…let’s just be buddies.”
“Seems to me you want to be everything but buddies,” Lex murmured, grazing a kiss over her cheek. He wrapped an arm around her waist, cinching her against him. Warm kisses trailed over her jawline.
She sighed, turning her head. “Lex, I don’t know what I want.”
“That’s pretty obvious.” He smirked, but it fell quickly. Their waitress approached with the bottle of wine, and Lex loosened his grip on her, putting a respectable amount of distance between them. His hand never left her knee.
His eyes lit up as the waitress uncorked the bottle and poured two healthy glasses. They said “Cheers!” before taking a sip, and Lila made a noise of satisfaction. Cabernet Sauvignon was her favorite, and they’d picked a good one.
“There’s something so lovely in watching you drink wine,” Lila said, giggling over her glass.
“Hey.” Lex feigned offense, lifting his pinkie. “You sayin’ a guy like me can’t enjoy his wine?” He sniffed at the wine, squinting. “My palette is mature. I can smell the oak barrel in this one.”
She lifted a brow. “Oh really?” She took a sip, setting her glass down. “What else do you smell?”
“Mmm…” He took another sip, then ran his tongue over his teeth. “I taste a little bit of berry. And some currant. And a shit ton of fermented grapes.”
She leaned into him, grinning like a fool. “You had me for a second there.”
“Maybe I could become one of those fancy wine guys. You know, the dudes they hire to sniff wine and give recommendations?”
“Sommelier. That would combine nicely with your professional fighting career.”
He laughed, a dimple flashing. “Balance, right? I’d do it.” He hooked an arm over her shoulders again, bringing her tight against him. She snuggled into place, pleasure blanketing her. She’d never tire of being in his arms. Of letting his scent wash over her.
“Would the other guys make fun of you?” She lifted her leg to rest on top of his. His gaze fell to her exposed knee, and his free hand resumed its lazy trail over the top of her thigh. Her mouth parted as his hand crept further up her leg, pushing under the fabric of her skirt.
“I don’t really care what anyone says about me, doll.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, his hand hot on her upper thigh. It stayed there, and her pussy pulsed in anticipation, wanting him to go all the way, public restaurant be damned.
“It’s so weird,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against the side of his face. “You’ve changed in so many ways…but I still feel like you’re the same Lex you’ve always been. How is that possible?”
He angled his face toward hers, lips pressed against her forehead, dragging down the ridge of her nose. “I could say the same thing. I don’t know. Maybe that’s what time does. Makes us new people but keeps the most important parts. The ones that don’t ever change.”
But what parts about Lex were the ones that wouldn’t change? She tilted her head back to examine the depths of his gaze, like searching for the answer in an eight ball. Drug use and gang fights—those had to be the things sloughed off like dead skin. Had to. Or else she should run away. Now.
Maybe Lex sensed her hesitation. He swooped in for a kiss, urgency there, or maybe more like conviction. Convincing her to take a chance. Convincing her to see the parts of him that were new, refined.
A small noise escaped her and she pressed herself against him. Needing more of that solidness. That security that clung to him as much as his cologne. He turned toward her a bit, hooking his free arm around her waist, other hand squeezing the flesh of her thigh. She laughed low through the kiss. “Let’s hope the waitress doesn’t come back and see us like this.”
“Why? She wouldn’t see anything bad.” He kissed her again. “Just some good old-fashioned canoodling.”
“Canoodling at Coglietti’s,” Lila said, grinning through a kiss. “My favorite thing.”
“What else can we do at Coglietti’s?” Lex’s hand crept higher, a grin spreading across his face.
“We can chat,” she said, mind growing fuzzier the higher his hand went. She nuzzled into his neck, tensing as his fingertips reached the edge of her panties.
“Chatting at Coglietti’s.” The heat rolling off of him made her vision spotty, as if she might pass out from the anticipation. “Yeah, but we’ve already been doing that. What’s something new we can do?”
>
The grin threatened to split her face in two. “Hmmm. Maybe…fondling at Coglietti’s?”
“Gotta be a c-word,” Lex chided, inching his hand back from her panty line. “We’re at Coglietti’s, remember.”
She laughed into his shoulder, arching slightly so his hand might slide back to the prize. “Oh, come on. How am I supposed to think when your hand is all the way up my skirt?”
“Gonna have to figure it out, doll.” He enjoyed this—the smirk told her everything.
“Fine. We could…” She searched for a word, any word. “Carouse at Coglietti’s.”
“Oh. Good one.” His hand crept back toward her panty line. “Carousing at Coglietti’s. That could be a movie, too.”
She inhaled sharply as his fingertips traced the edge of her underwear, nearing but not touching the area that wanted his attention the most. “Mmm.”
“Yeah. Carousing is good. But there’s something else we could do at Coglietti’s.” His touch drifted up and down the seam of her thigh. “What is it?”
She furrowed her brow with eyes pinched shut, trying to think past the haze induced by his touch. He made it impossible to think straight. “Uh…court.”
“Nope.” He pushed his fingertips past the lacy edge of her panties. “Come on. Think of it. I know you can.”
She clutched onto his bicep, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. The word leapt up out of the fog. “Climax.”
“Verrrry good.” He dragged his thumb over the crotch of her panties, nicking the tight nub underneath. She tensed, balling her fist into his shirt, mouth parting as his fingertips circled her clit like it was prey.
“Climaxing at Coglietti’s.” His voice came out a sexy murmur, almost a growl. “The secret menu item.”
He squeezed the stiff peak of her clit, and she gasped, keeping her mouth buried into his shoulder, lest she scream or whimper accidentally. The man was known for provoking these types of things.
He angled toward her more, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric of her panties, exploring the damp heat between her legs. Her eyes fluttered shut as he worked her, slow but not lazy, like a restrained force, a mechanical fluidity. He nicked and pinched and rolled her clit, then slipped a finger inside her. She gritted her teeth, arching against him, struggling to swallow the moan that threatened to spill from her lips.
“Damn, doll.” The intensity in his voice told her he neared his own edge. This bordered on public indecency. “You’re so wet.”
She pressed her lips together, wanting to teleport to a bed, to a flat surface, hell, to an unused corner of the kitchen. Anywhere he could fit himself between her legs, ease himself into her, so she could feel that delicious hardness filling her just as she’d dreamt so many times in the past five years.
But every time she thought of that, it reminded her of the scar she was desperate to keep hidden. He can’t get you naked. If he does, he’ll see the proof. It had to be like this or nothing.
“You know why,” she murmured, tilting her head up. “You do this to me.”
He laughed, but it sounded forced, like maybe the next words out of his mouth would be “get on top of me.” His rhythmic massage didn’t stop for a second. “Be careful, Lila. We’re in public, and our waitress is gonna be freaked if she finds you bent over the table when she comes back.”
She laughed low. “I’m game.” She tensed as he worked her faster, slipping two fingers into her, swirling into the slick depths. He captured her lips in a kiss, and they stayed there, not even keeping a lookout for the waitress, lost in their own bliss.
Lex pulled his mouth away, resting his forehead against hers, rubbing her faster. She gulped, feeling the tight prickle of climax nearing, the swell in her core, the needy anticipation. Tensing against him, she whispered, “I’m close, babe.”
“You don’t know how bad I wanna eat you out, Lila,” he said, his voice ragged at her ear. Sexy confessions only for her. “I want to taste you. I want you to come for me, baby. I want to taste you when you come.”
That did it—he always knew just what to say to push her way, way over the edge. A yelp rose, but she caught it in her throat before it escaped; she tensed against him, biting into his shoulder, body spasming against him as the orgasm rode through her in waves, sticky sweet and ragged, filling her limbs with bliss.
She laughed, unable to move quite yet, resting her head against his shoulder. “Jesus, Lex.”
He retracted his hand, clearing his throat. She closed her legs on instinct, and when she looked up she saw the waitress headed their way. The appetizer.
“Oh my God,” she whispered just before the server reached them with the beautiful platter of bread and chopped tomato. “That was close.”
“Anything else for you?” The waitress chirped happily.
Lila couldn’t even bring herself to respond. Too depleted from the orgasm. Lex shook his head, grin full of mischief. “We’re awesome, thanks.”
He turned to her once the waitress left, eyes brimming with joy. “You ready to eat after that?”
Chapter 11
Lex had a thousand excuses ready when he pulled up to her apartment building later that night. At least half of them were perched, ready and waiting on his tongue, when she gave him that sorry look that told her she was going straight up.
“I need to get to bed,” she said, even though he hadn’t protested. Yet.
“I didn’t say a thing.”
She smirked as if she knew. “Yeah, but I can hear inside your head, don’t forget.”
He laughed. “Shit. We’re in trouble, then.” He leaned closer, over the center console. “Give me one last kiss. So I can fall asleep later.”
She pursed her lips, fighting a smile. “So, we’re already to the codependent stage? That’s bad news.”
“I don’t know what stage you’d call it,” Lex murmured, his gaze on her pink lips, “but I want to see you tomorrow, too.”
She pressed her lips to his, a sweet kiss emerging, something that made Lex’s chest tighten. When she pulled away, she wrapped a cool hand around the back of his neck, sending shivers through him. “I want to see you tomorrow, too.”
“What time should I come over?” He cocked a grin.
“Let me see how the day goes,” she said, her voice soft, eyes searching his face. “Maybe we can meet somewhere. Do something.”
“I’m all yours, babe.” He eyed her lips again, then snagged another kiss, pressing his tongue in to find hers. When they parted, she looked frazzled, in exactly the way he liked to inspire. She pushed open the door, the interior lights flicking on, illuminating her sultry gaze.
“Night, Lex.” She paused before pushing out of the car, glancing back once over her shoulder as she strutted to the door of her apartment complex, the apples of her ass holding him captive until she went inside.
Lex groaned, sitting back in the seat, his cock aching. Their chemistry was explosive…and he couldn’t get enough of it. Even when it burned him.
Fantasy clouded the drive back to his apartment. He couldn’t get rid of the memory of Lila’s pussy, soaking wet and velvety around his fingers. He was dying to get her on a flat surface where he could have his way with her, finally take them both to the brink that they knew so well together.
Back at his apartment, Lex fished his phone out of his console where he’d left it since the beginning of the date. He hadn’t wanted any distractions—least of all from the annoying LA number that had pestered him all morning. He’d put it on Do Not Disturb, just to avoid the constant ringing.
As he strode into his apartment building, he turned his phone on. Fifteen missed calls. His stomach plummeted. All from the same number.
He stared at the call history screen while the elevator took him to his floor. What the fuck are you gonna do? Acting like it was the wrong number wasn’t enough. But his options were limited. Because if he admitted he was—used to be—Cheshire, then they’d never leave him in peace.
Anger s
immered just below the surface, heating up his veins as he unlocked his apartment. What the fuck did they want? Why couldn’t they just leave him be? It had been four years since he’d fought for them last. There was no need for this delayed courtesy call.
Lex pushed into the dark quiet of his apartment, the familiar scent of leather and laundry soap greeting him. He flicked the lights on, setting his wallet and phone by the front table. His phone screen lit up as soon as his fingers left it. That same fucking number.
Frustration boiled over and he snatched up the phone, answering it with a snarl. “What?”
The voice on the other end chuckled. “Well. Finally. Took you long enough, Cheshire.”
“You have the wrong number. Stop fucking calling me.”
“No, we have exactly the right number.” The voice was heavy, belabored. He coughed a little on the other end. “And we know it.”
Lex gritted his teeth and hung up the phone, squashing the string of expletives that threatened to launch from the tip of his tongue. He squeezed the phone as hard as he could and then threw it into the sofa. It buried itself between the seams of the cushions, and he stormed to the bathroom, chest heaving.
This wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. Those assholes couldn’t keep it up forever. He just had to find a way to get rid of them. Because he wouldn’t live his life escaping from his shadow.
There had to be a way to end this.
He darted toward the couch, an idea shivering through him. It might not work long-term, but it might work for now. He dug the phone out from the cushions, knees making hollowed indents into the leather of the couch as he scrambled to pull up his recent calls. He swiped over the number, pressing his thumb against the “Block” option.
Are you sure you want to block this number? He pressed Yes and then watched as the number dissolved from the screen.
Blocked.
For now…it was something.
Lex slept fitfully, tossing and turning between haunting dreams about the old underground fights. Back when he really was Cheshire. Gritty, blood-stained cement warehouses, the crash of knuckle and bone, the shouts and jeers from rich men who found something calming in the bloodshed and the no-holds-barred. Why was the threat of death so compelling to watch?