"So it will be more blue?" she asks.
"Can't get more blue," he says. "But it will be fruitier, sweeter."
She nods.
"You too, sir?" he asks.
"Yes, Cam. Would you like it wet?" she asks.
"Why not?" I ask.
He turns to make the drinks.
"You realize it's going to be sweet?" She looks up at me. Copies my tone. "Very sweet."
Okay, I'm an arsehole. I deserve that. "Blue for your sister?"
She nods. "I looked up a list online. This one spoke to me."
"Is it the disturbing citrus liqueur or the gin that does it?"
She laughs. "There was one called Something Blue, if that works better for you. It's champagne and Hypnotiq. Something like that."
"Sounds vile."
She laughs. "You know me. I like it sweet."
"The aviation wasn't sweet enough?"
"I want to try this." Her eyes meet mine. "You think they're having sex out there?"
"He's probably got his hand up her skirt."
"Will they stop when we get back?"
"No."
"If Ty shows up?" she asks.
"Maybe. Ian knows he was an arsehole last time Ty was engaged," he says.
"Can he access that information in his current state?"
I chuckle. "Is that what you think of men?"
"Is it wrong?"
Not usually. "We think with our cocks."
"You too?"
"Sometimes."
"What about Ty and his ex-fiancée? Rory?" She says her name like it's a vile odor. "Were they hot and heavy?"
"You don't like her?"
"Of course not. She stole my sister's man."
"That wasn't how it went."
"Indie and Ty spent the summer together, then he left, and he got engaged to Rory." Her nose scrunches in distaste. "How did she not steal my sister's man?"
"People can't be stolen," I say. "But no, they weren't hot and heavy."
She raises a brow.
"Not the way your sister and Ty are."
"They weren't kinky? Or they weren't unable to keep their hands off each other?"
"She was vanilla. He wanted to believe he was a normal guy who liked vanilla and fit into the world of the rich and powerful."
"The opposite of you?" Her red lips press into a smile. "Pretending you're a freak, wishing you were a freak, but secretly super vanilla."
Go to the bathroom and take off your knickers. I'll show you how fucking vanilla I am. I swallow hard. "You read me like a book."
She nods I know. "So Ty liked this girl because she was boring and vanilla?"
"Because she was elegant and old money. And, yes, vanilla." I chuckle. "Is it always about sex?"
"Obviously. Look what happened? Vanilla girl, gone. Now, he's marrying Indie. And she's like… what's the opposite of vanilla?"
"Cherry chocolate chip?"
"Wouldn't that make her a virgin?"
"What do you suggest?" I ask.
"Spiced mocha? Something like that."
"Sweet but spicy?"
"Yeah, she's not sweet. And the whole coffee thing… problematic." She slides onto a bar stool. "I'll have to workshop it."
A laugh spills from my lips. She's adorable.
I want to make her smile.
And I want to corrupt her.
"Let me know what you settle on." I slide onto the stool next to hers.
She turns toward me. Crosses one leg over the other, pulling her dress up her thighs.
Fuck, I need those thighs against my cheeks. Around my hips. Fighting my hands.
"Do you think they've had enough time?" She motions to the balcony on the other side of the restaurant.
We can't see anything from here—all the semi-private seats have high backs—but I know Ian. He's going to tease her until we return.
"No," I say.
"What do they need? Five minutes?"
"Damn. That's all the stamina he has?"
Her red lips curl into a smile. "I can come in ninety seconds if I want." Her eyes flit to my lips. Chest. Hips. "If he's skilled, he can make her come in ninety seconds."
"No foreplay?"
"What do you call the two of them flirting in front of us?"
She's right about that, but she's wrong about Ian's speed.
Would Sienna get off on being forced to wait?
I'm going to make her wait either way. Even if makes her fucking crazy.
No. I'm not—
Fuck.
The bartender interrupts my dirty thoughts. Drops off our bright blue martinis. "On your tab?"
"Thanks." I wrap my fingers around my glass. Force myself to look Sienna in the eyes.
It doesn't help. Her eyes are on fire.
She wants me.
It's all over her face.
She takes her drink. Holds it up to toast. "To making women come?"
"To making women come." I tap my glass against hers. Watch as she brings her drink to her lips. Sucks the blue liquid from the glass.
"Mmm." She swallows. Licks her lips. "You're going to hate it."
"How do you figure?"
"Too sweet." She takes another sip. Sets her martini on the bar. Waits.
I try the drink. The liqueur is overwhelming. A syrupy sweet citrus.
I should hate it, but I don't.
It's the taste on her lips. And I fucking need that.
Because I'm not tasting them again. This is as close as I'm coming.
"You don't think Ian can do it?" Her eyes meet mine. "Make her come in ninety seconds?"
"He can, but he won't."