by KB Jacobs
“Already covered.” I gestured to the tiny table nestled into the curve of the staircase where I’d placed a prepared vase earlier in the day. I wanted everything about this night to go perfectly.
She beamed. “You thought of everything.”
“I tried.” I’d spent yesterday with Simon and Nicola, and they’d helped me plan every minute of this date so it would—hopefully—be everything that Juliet had ever dreamed about. But that didn’t stop my stomach from flipping over with nerves. I wanted this night to go so well.
As she put the flowers into the vase, I gently brushed the hair off the back of her neck and lightly grazed my lips across her delicate skin. I just wanted to touch her.
She moaned.
It had been too long since we’d made love, and my body screamed at me when she reacted that way. “We need to go, or we’re going to miss our reservation,” I murmured as she melted against my chest.
Silently, she nodded, but her smoldering eyes told me a different story. She wanted to stay home just as much as I did. When we got downstairs, I slipped her coat over her shoulders, brushing my fingertips over the tops of her arms.
She shivered at my touch. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay here?” Her voice had turned husky.
“No, I’m not sure at all, but consider all this as anticipation and foreplay for later. In the meantime, I’m actually looking forward to just spending time with you, getting to know you better. More than just how sexy you are in bed.”
Her expression softened, but her breathing sped up as she watched me under half-lidded eyes. She was such a sexual creature hidden in such an innocent package, even when she wasn’t trying to be. I was one lucky guy.
“Come on,” I urged before we were both convinced to do otherwise. “The driver is waiting.”
We stepped into the covered portion of the drive.
“Driver?” Melissa’s question trailed off at the sight of the black Bentley and uniformed driver holding the back door open. “Welcome, Mr. Millett. Ms. Frye.”
“Oh, wow.” Melissa sighed. “It is just like being royalty.”
Yes! This night was off to the perfect start.
Chapter 30
Melissa
The driver took us on the scenic route through town, along the Aspen River and past the City Park and Aspen Lake. With the fresh snow and abundance of white, twinkling lights the city strung through the trees, it was like driving through a fairytale wonderland. I glanced out the window and tried not to think about Anthony blurting out that three-word phrase that had turned all the muscles in my legs to goo.
After the lake, we turned back toward downtown and pulled up in front of a restaurant I’d never been to. The driver rushed over and opened my door. I stepped out and teetered on the ice and snow. My heels were little more than tiny sticks attached to leather, but Anthony was out and by my side in an instant. His hot hand warmed the small of my back and sent tendrils of pleasure through my body.
Anthony opened the restaurant door and ushered me into a dimly lit dream world.
“Welcome to The Treehouse,” a man in a crisply pressed suit said from behind a podium lit only by a tiny penlight. An actual, honest-to-goodness tree grew up from the floor behind him. Its branches glimmered with hundreds of white, twinkling lights that filled the space with a soft glow.
“Reservation for Simon Dorsey.” Anthony winked at me and flashed his winning smile at the maître d’.
The man rushed from behind his podium to lead us to our table. “Right this way, sir.” He walked us through the restaurant and past a dozen more lit trees casting their glow on the warm, brick walls and rough-hewn wood floors and tables.
He opened a small door and stepped aside for us to walk into a private dining room. One more tree grew in the corner, its branches stretching across a glass ceiling that allowed the moon glow to settle over our table.
“Please enjoy your meal.”
Anthony led me to the table and pulled out a chair for me to sit. He pushed it in and slid his warm hands down my bare shoulders. He leaned forward his lips grazing the edge of my ear as he whispered in my ear, “Our maître d’ couldn’t take his eyes off of you, but now, you’re all mine.”
His words lit a fire in my belly. I wanted to be his and only his. The idea of that thrilled me all the way to my toes.
Anthony poured us both glasses of champagne from the opened bottle waiting for us on ice. I took a long, slow sip, but it did nothing to quench the desire heating me from the inside. That wouldn’t happen until Anthony made good on his promises of fun and games later tonight.
Blood rushed to my face at the memory of those promises. I’d practically stripped the man bare right on the staircase. I should be embarrassed, except I wasn’t. I’d always felt like my desires were something to hide. Women weren’t supposed to want sex, especially not the kind of sex that involved handcuffs and ice cubes. But being with Anthony took away the shame. My nipples pebbled, and I crossed my legs. I needed to get my hormones under control, or I’d never make it through dinner.
Anthony refilled my glass and slid into the chair next to me. He unbuttoned his jacket, revealing the evidence that I wasn’t the only struggling with control. His slacks puckered from the impressive bulge lying beneath.
“Good thing we’re in a private room.” He winked at me. “I took the liberty of pre-ordering dinner. It should be here in a moment.”
At his words, a waitress walked into the room carrying two bowls of salad. “Fresh parmesan?”
I nodded, and she grated cheese on top of my crisp, green salad. After topping Anthony’s bowl, she left as quietly as she entered.
It suddenly struck me just how alone we were. With all the people Anthony had on his team and my crazy work schedule, that hardly ever happened. My fingers drummed out a spastic rhythm on my leg. Now what? The whole point of coming on this date was to figure out if there was anything more to Anthony and me than a wild chemical attraction, but I didn’t know how to even begin.
Anthony grabbed my hand under the table. “Are you nervous?”
“Maybe,” I said, my gaze focused on the bright colors of my salad.
He dropped my hand and took my chin, forcing me to look at him. His deep, brown eyes bored into mine like he was claiming me for his own. Anthony opened his mouth and started to say something but changed his mind and closed it again. Before I could say a word, he leaned over, and his lips pressed to mine.
I opened my mouth and welcomed him in, his tongue tangling with mine while his hand grasped the back of my neck and pulled me in closer. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, and I let out a groan.
Anthony pulled back slightly, his warm breath mating with mine. “That,” he growled, “has never been an issue between us. There’s been chemistry since the first time I saw you in your brewery tower, reading books and sipping tea.” He kissed me softly again before sitting back in his chair completely. “But I think there could be more, and tonight is the beginning of figuring that out. You can’t force it or mess it up. It either is or isn’t. So don’t be nervous. In the end, it’s just dinner.”
I nodded and licked my swollen lips. Anticipation thrummed beneath my skin, but it wasn’t only about sex. He was right. What we had building between us was good.
He leaned back in and bit at the tender skin behind my ear. “But if you don’t stop doing so many sexy things, we’ll never make it to the main course. And I have an amazing dessert planned.”
Despite the sizzling heat stinging my skin, I laughed and relaxed a bit into my chair. It’s just dinner.
***
We talked about everything under the sun, from my crazy, overpopulated family to some of Anthony’s wilder antics as a teen on the professional circuit. Even with the constantly present undercurrent of sexual tension, we managed to make it through our salads and an extravagant main course without even a slight lull in the conversation.
“When I got home and mom got her first look at my lime-green hair, she
about flipped.” Anthony set his fork down and planted both his fists on his hips. “Anthony Walter Millett, have you lost the ever loving sense the good lord graced you with?”
I choked on my sip of champagne, trying to hold back the laughter at his spot on impersonation of Lauren. Anthony handed me a napkin, and my skin only slightly melted where his hand touched mine.
“What did she do?”
Anthony shrugged. “Not much. What could she say when Dad had told me it was fine?” He sipped from his glass, and his eyes lit up as he remembered the scene. “But after that, Mom never let the two of us go to a competition without her again.”
“It’s amazing that woman doesn’t have a full head of gray hair and an ulcer.” I pushed my empty plate to the side and rested an elbow on the table so I could turn in my seat.
“My mom is a saint, for sure.”
The waitress ghosted back into the private room. She whisked our empty plates from the table and gave us both a warm smile. “Are you ready for dessert, sir?”
Anthony placed a warm hand on my thigh and gave it a little squeeze. “Sounds perfect.”
She nodded and hurried out of the room.
“What are we having?” I asked, placing a hand over his. “I’m completely stuffed, but I can’t resist a good dessert.”
Anthony grabbed the champagne bottle and topped off our glasses before shooting me a wicked grin. “Do you trust me?”
I swallowed back a lump in my throat and nodded. The way he stared at me rekindled the fire that had simmered during dinner.
He pulled our chairs closer together and slid his hand around my knees. “They’ll be back in just a minute. I want you to sit perfectly still and try very hard not to make any noise. Can you do that?”
I nodded again, my heart rate soaring as my brain went into overdrive trying to figure out what Anthony was up to.
The door opened, and a slim man in a white jacket pushed inside with a covered cart. As he closed the door behind him, Anthony slid his warm hand under the skirt of my dress, trailing his fingers up my leg, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
My pulse sped higher as I realized his intentions. I squirmed in my chair, but Anthony grabbed my thigh and gave his head a tiny shake.
“My name is Chef Luke,” the man said, whipping the cover off the top of his cart to reveal a portable cooktop. “I hope you’ve saved some room, because we have the world’s best Bananas Foster here at The Treehouse.”
“I can hardly wait.” Anthony continued his climb up my thigh, only pausing for a second at the edge of my lace panties.
The chef slid a tray out from the bottom of the cart, and Anthony slid a finger inside my panties and pushed them to the side. Chef Luke peeled several bananas and sliced them with quick, steady motions. Anthony traced a finger around my sensitive bare mound and growled low enough that only I heard him.
I turned to face him and smiled sweetly. It was a spur of the moment decision yesterday afternoon, but apparently, the full Brazilian wax was a wise choice.
Luke turned up the flame on his portable stove, and the scent of butter, sugar, and cinnamon filled the room. It was delicious, but the moan from my throat had nothing to do with the tantalizing aromas. Anthony parted my wet lips and dipped his fingers inside, zeroing in on my pulsing clit.
“Just wait,” Chef Luke gushed. “It gets better.”
“I know.” Anthony grinned at me and winked as his fingers circled faster and faster around my tiny bundle of nerves.
I bit my lip to keep from making any more noise, but it was taking every ounce of control I had not to dance out of my seat and straddle Anthony right there. My inner muscles quivered with the need to feel him inside me. Thank god for the sizzle of the pan covering up my harsh breaths.
Luke picked up a bottle of liquor and held it over the pan. “Here we go.”
He doused the pan with liquid, and a hot flash of fire jumped up in the pan.
“Oh!” I cried out as Anthony dipped his fingers inside my core. He rotated his hand and scraped along the front of my inner walls, hitting the magic place inside that completely dissolved my willpower. “That’s amazing.”
“Wait till you taste it.” Chef Luke threw the bananas in the pan and swirled it around.
Anthony pulled his fingers out only to plunge them in again, deeper than before. “I plan to lick it clean.”
Heaven help me, the man was trying to kill me.
Chef Luke divided the bananas between two plates and topped each one with a generous scoop of ice cream. “I won’t make you wait any longer.”
Anthony swirled his fingers around my soaking-wet sex and stroked his thumb over my clit, pushing me closer to the edge. Once, twice, three times he rubbed a circle around my clit before pulling out completely and gently pinching the bundle of nerves between two damp fingers.
I lost it. Gripping the table, I held my breath and stilled my body while the orgasm rolled through me.
Luke set the plates in front of us and packed up his portable station. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as Anthony pulled my panties back into place.
Chapter 31
Anthony
We climbed back into the Bentley after dinner. Melissa was just now coming back to Earth after her orgasm. She wasn’t the only one struggling to get under control.
This date was supposed to be all about us getting closer. We had talked for the last several hours, her eyes flashing with humor as she told stories about the mischief Alex, Lake, and she had gotten into in college. After four days of celibacy and then sleeping with her in my arms last night, I couldn’t hold out any longer. Knowing how much the edge of danger did it for her, I wanted to do something to take this date over the top to be unforgettable for her.
I’d never been one to flirt with exhibitionism, but watching her get so turned on meant I now sported an erection like a lead bar in my pants. My dick throbbed with want.
She settled into the car beside me, and her cinnamon and vanilla scent mixed with arousal wafted through my senses. Her cheeks were flushed with the combination of alcohol and sated lust, and she’d never looked more gorgeous.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I brushed a kiss across the top of her head.
“Yeah.” Her voice was a breathy sigh. “So good. You were right. That dessert was phenomenal.”
“Oh, Juliet,” I growled into her ear. “Dessert is nowhere close to done yet.”
I felt the shiver roll over her, and I smiled. “So, tell me. I know you take copious notes in your books. What’s your favorite fantasy scene that you’d like to re-enact?”
It was probably not a question she’d normally answer, but she was so relaxed right now, I’d hoped she’d answer without thinking. I’d gathered a lot of supplies based upon what scenes she’d marked in her books. I only hoped I could fulfill one of her greatest fantasies tonight.
“I liked what we did at the restaurant.” Goosebumps spread down her arms, and her voice lowered. “When you dominate me and tell me what to do, I don’t have to think about what to do next, so I can turn off my brain and let my body take over. I feel everything so much more.” A shudder wracked her body. “Yeah, that works for me.”
“Works for me, too.” I lightly brushed my hand over the swell of her exposed cleavage. “What else?”
She bit her lip. “I like the danger that someone could know what we’re doing...but not in a peeping Tom kind of way. More like a private show. I like the idea of someone else seeing just how lucky I am to have your hard cock drilling into me.”
Someone watching? I hissed in a surprised breath, and my hard cock flexed at her words. This woman constantly staggered me.
“The idea that someone could be watching and envying that I’m the woman who gets to be with you...” Her breath hitched, and she reached toward the placket of my pants.
I grasped her hand with a low, aroused chuckle. “No touching me, or I won’t be responsible for my actions. Unless...do y
ou want to give the chauffeur a show?”
Melissa stiffened, but she didn’t answer right away. I was almost to the point of throwing her down on the seat and driving into her when she shook her head. “No, I don’t think I’m ready for that tonight. Maybe someday, though. I’ve read about those dungeon type of places. Do you think they really exist?” Intrigue colored her voice.
“I know they do. There’s actually one in Denver if you ever wanted to try it.”
“Have you ever been to a place like that before?” Her voice had grown a bit smaller, and I didn’t like that.
“No, until you I never even considered getting in touch with my kinkier side. But with you in the scenario, I’m very tempted. I’d like to explore it if you want to.”
“Maybe someday. Not right now, though. Right now, I just like the possibility of someone watching us. That’s enough.”
As we’d talked, she’d turned and her body had arched into mine until she was practically dry-humping me. We were both so turned on.
I dipped down and nipped at her earlobe with a growl. “I like it when you get all worked up. You are so freaking sexy. I can’t wait until I can make all your fantasies come to life.”
The back door of the car opened, and Melissa startled. “I didn’t realize we were already home.”
I stepped out of the car, ignoring the knowing smirk from the driver. That had been the only issue with using a Bentley instead of a true limo tonight. There hadn’t been quite as much privacy as I would’ve hoped. But for my British-loving girl, the sacrifice had been worth it.
I reached back and grabbed Melissa’s hand, helping her from the car. Her gaze was filled with such devotion and... My breath caught. Dare I say it...love? The impact of the emotion almost took me to my knees. I was so gone for this girl.
I brought her inside the house, and without stopping to even take off her coat, I led her up the stairs straight to the second-story outdoor party terrace.
Her blue eyes clouded with confusion. “What are we doing?”
I cupped her cheek. “Do you trust me to fulfill one of your fantasies?”