Work Me Up

She snorts. “Fine, I’ll stay late, then.”

“Only if you promise to let me distract you some more,” I reply, leaning forward so that underneath the table, where I’m hidden from view by the tablecloth draped over the edges, I can reach over to rest a hand on her knee.

She draws in a slow breath, and I watch a blush spread from her cheeks, down her neck to her chest. “Maybe,” she says, her voice dropping lower. Then she surprises me, by reaching down to catch my wrist and tugging my hand higher.

I grin, following her lead, and slide my hand up, up, up her bare thigh. There are a handful of other people in the restaurant, but their gazes are all fixed out toward the ocean, watching the sun dip toward setting. As for me, I’ve got eyes only for Selena, who watches me right back, biting her lower lip as my fingers reach the very top of her thighs.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her, lowering my voice to a purr. “I’ll give you a very good performance review when I talk about what great work you’ve done for me.”

She actually bats her eyelashes. Fucking hell, this woman. “If I didn’t know any better, Antonio, I’d say you were just saying that to get into my panties.”

I smirk. And then my hand reaches the crease where her thigh meets her hipbone. I trace my fingertips over the smooth plane of her thigh, slide it along her body, only to find… I blink a couple times, and my eyebrows rise higher. “In order for me to get into your panties,” I say, my voice so low it’s nearly a growl now. “You’d have to be wearing any.”

I run my fingertips across her smooth mound, and I’m rewarded with a naughty smirk, a flash of heat in Selena’s eyes. “I thought you might like a glimpse of my wilder side.”

“You thought right,” I murmur, leaning in so that our chairs are side by side, and reaching up with my free hand to tip her face toward mine. This time I actually kiss her, a slow sink of my mouth against hers, my tongue parting her lips to claim her mouth as mine, mine, mine.

At the same time, I press my hand more firmly between her thighs, parting them, one fingertip toying with her pussy lips. When I pull back from the kiss, I bite her lower lip, just hard enough to make her gasp and arch those sexy hips of hers up against my palm.

“God, I can’t wait to get you right where I want you,” I murmur, my mouth still close to hers.

“And where is that?” she breathes, her gaze fixed on mine.

“Spread-eagled beneath me on a bed,” I reply. Then I bend to kiss her jawline, the edge of her neck. “With my cock buried inside that tight pussy of yours.” To demonstrate, I push one finger into her slit, trace it back and forth, savoring the feeling of her wetness coating my fingertips.

I circle her entrance until she’s shifting in her chair, her breath coming faster, that flush I love so much back and spreading all across her face.

Then the waiter appears with our food balanced on his tray, and I casually slip my hand back out from beneath her dress, perfectly poised, while Selena is breathless and distracted beside me. I thank the waiter, making sure to ask him extra questions just so she has to linger with her discomfort longer.

She fires me more than a few glares while we chat, and I notice her fidgeting in her seat. But she waits until the waiter actually walks away to lean over and hiss in my ear. “You wanted him to notice me dying over here, didn’t you?” she accuses.

I merely smile back at her, broad and innocent. “What’s the matter?” I wink. “Something got you all hot and bothered? Or should I say wet and bothered…”

She glares, and I can’t help it. I laugh softly, because her flustered embarrassment is so damn cute. It’s even cute when she swats me with her napkin.

Hell, everything this woman does attracts me. From the fact that she wore no undies today just to turn me on, to the way she fights me when I insist on paying the bill. I win the fight, of course, by sneaking my credit card to the waiter when she’s in the bathroom. But she tried her damndest to split the check, which is more than I can say for most women I’ve taken out on dates like this.

Scratch that. I’ve never taken a woman on a date quite like this one. One that started with a walk on the beach, sharing our childhood memories, and ended with us walking home, my arm around her waist, stopping occasionally to grip that sexy, juicy ass of hers, anytime there’s nobody else near us on the street.