“Sounds like it is. Thank you,” he said, pleased that she had done as he asked and reserved the corner booth for him.
After the short, round woman greeted Mitch by name and led them to a small secluded booth in a back corner and handed them a menu, Hannah was pleased to see the diverse menu choices consisted of dishes both familiar and unfamiliar to her.
“You seem to be well known here,” she commented as Mitch slid in next to her, forcing her to slide over to the corner. A half wall topped with potted plants hid the rest of the dining room from their view, leaving only the low murmur of voices to let them know they weren’t alone. The lighting was dim, barely bright enough to read the menu, and the small flickering candle lent an intimacy to the feel of his much bigger, much harder body pressing up against her.
“I’ve been coming here for about fifteen years. Angelo, whom the place is named after, still works in the kitchen even though he could retire. That was his wife who met us. We call her Mama Lupia because she likes to mother anyone younger than her.”
“She reminds me of my grandmother.” A pang of homesickness washed over her in that second, but Mitch’s hand on her nape, turning her face up to his, quickly shoved that emotion out the door before it could completely enter. She barely had time to register the dark, needy intent etched on his face before he covered her mouth with his.
Sinking against him, she invited him in without qualm at first, relished the taste of him on her tongue, savored the rise of heated torment sweeping through her body, the same reaction she always got when he kissed her. Or touched her. Or just looked at her. Between her near naked state, his intimate touch in the truck and now his deep, sensually exploring kiss, she felt as if she could go up in flames with just one small caress on just the right spot. She didn’t know if it was her soft moan when he reached up and ran his finger over one turgid nipple or the throat clearing sound from the young waiter that brought her abruptly back to her surroundings. Pulling back, she avoided the young man’s face as she buried her own behind the menu.
“I’m not sure if we’re ready to order just yet, Raoul. Hannah?”
Frowning at his smirk, she muttered, “No, I need a minute, please.”
“No problem,” Raoul said politely as he filled their water glasses and set down a basket of breadsticks. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As soon as Raoul left, she whispered in mortification, “You can’t do that. What if he saw you….touching me?”
“You mean like this?” Mitch asked as he ran his knuckle back and forth over her puckered nipple, more than pleased when that small bud tightened even further.
Hannah would have moved back if she had the space. At least, that’s what she told herself when she leaned just slightly forward into his hand. “Mitch,” she moaned. “You can’t touch me like that, kiss me like that, in public.”
“Why? Because you’re afraid someone might see, which is unlikely in this corner with my body shielding you, or because you might like it if someone did?” Mitch watched her closely, gauging her reaction as well as her answer for the truth.
Oh, God, Hannah moaned silently. Lying was wrong, even if she would be lying to herself if she denied how wet she had gotten when she realized the waiter was standing there. Ignoring his question, she asked, “What do you recommend here?”
“I recommend you answer my question honestly, Hannah.”
Looking at him, she saw that implacable look on his face, his eyes coolly rebuking her as surely as his clipped tone had. “Fine, I admit I was….excited there for a minute. But that’s wrong in more ways than I can count and definitely not me, so it must have been a fleeting, caught off guard, one-time thing.” That was her story and she was sticking to it, darn it.
“Just looking, or watching, isn’t wrong, sweetheart. Having an audience can be highly arousing for some people.” He hoped he wasn’t pushing her too fast, but a little exhibitionism had been the main intent for this night out, that and simply spending time with her.
“Is it for you?” she wanted to know because, in all honesty, now that he had planted the seed, she was discovering she was curious about what that kernel of excitement would grow into.
“Sometimes, yes. I’ve had sex in public and they were highly erotic experiences, but more so because the woman I was with got off on the public display more than I did.”
Hannah found she didn’t like hearing about his experience with other women, especially when he phrased them as highly erotic, and couldn’t help wishing he had an experience such as that with her. Would she get off on having sex, being naked while someone else watched? The image of her and Mitch together while a faceless person watched was erotic and did have her core tightening in an effort to contain the buildup of moisture from that fantasy.
“I’ve heard some fantasies are better left as fantasies, that in reality they aren’t as pleasurable.”
Mitch grinned at both her worried frown and her statement. “You don’t, by any chance, have a Sex for Dummies book, do you?”
“What if I do?” she muttered as she lifted her menu again to hide her face. Darn it, there was a section in her book on fantasies.
Pushing the menu down, Mitch soothed her pique by saying, “I’m not making fun of you. And yes, I imagine there are a number of fantasies best left alone for most people. Then, there are those people who would benefit from living out a few of them. I recommend the shrimp linguine in citrus sauce.”
Grateful for the change of subject and the waiter’s return, Hannah ordered his pick then took a long drink of cold water in an attempt to cool down her body. She was reaching for a breadstick when Mitch settled his hand on her thigh, under her skirt. One look at his face and she bit back her automatic rebuke. “How was your week?” she asked instead, hoping to keep his concentration on conversation instead of moving that hand.
“Busy. I’m halfway through building a high rise, fifty luxury condos that only the filthy rich are going to be able to afford. The owners already have twenty-two contracts.” Mitch took a bite of his own breadstick and followed it with a sip of wine while making small circles on her thigh, her soft skin too tempting to ignore. “Sure you don’t want to try a taste?”
Hannah shook her head as he held out his wineglass. One vice to deal with at a time was all she could handle. Tonight it was either take up alcohol or take another step over that questionably moral line she had always lived with and believed in, one she hadn’t crossed until meeting Mitch. The feel of Mitch’s calloused hand on her thigh, the subtle pressure to keep her legs slightly apart followed by the soft, almost comforting circles he started making made her decision easy.
“No, thank you. Oh good, here’s our salad.” Her relief was short lived when he kept his hand under her skirt as Raoul set their salads in front of them. When she started to close her legs, his tight squeeze stopped her.
Mitch waited until Raoul left before reassuring her. “Relax, he couldn’t see anything.” Letting his gaze drop to her breasts, he couldn’t resist teasing her. “Of course, it’s not my fault your nipples are advertising your, let’s say heightened awareness for now.”
Hannah didn’t need to look down to know her nipples were stiff, aching pinpoints of desire. The constant rasping of her silk camisole top didn’t help and neither did the inch north Mitch moved his hand. Once again she ignored his innuendo and took a bite of her salad, commenting, “This is good, but I may not have room for the main dish if I eat this whole bowl.”