Making a face, he leans over; his large hands wraps around my wrist, his firm touch sending electricity through me all over again. He guides my hand to his mouth. Chewing slowly, he nods. “Hmm... it’s good. You know what this means though, you have to share.”
Laughing, still breathless from the intimate moment, I scoop some of the calamari onto his plate. “I’m happy to share. Here, try it with just lemon.”
He does, “This is really good. Great, another food I’m going to have to fight with my housekeeper to get. The minute you texted Italian I’ve been looking forward to having lasagna.”
“You fight with your housekeeper to eat certain food?” The idea of Grant Dexter with his large muscled body intimidating not just sexually but in every way, arguing with his housekeeper for food seems absurd.
“Yeah, it’s embarrassing to admit, but you’ll find out soon enough. She’s been with me forever, going on thirteen years now. Only a few years in she decided, with me not working out except the daily weightlifting I do, she needed to change my diet. Out with the bacon and eggs and pizza I wanted and in with more vegetables, fish, and chicken. Now it’s a battle to get bacon and red meat is practically outlawed. Every once in a while I revolt and demand a steak or a hamburger and french fries. I’ll get them, and then pay for it in eating everything green for a week.”
“That’s sweet.”
“It’s sweet I have to threaten to fire her to get bacon?”
“No, it’s sweet because she cares about you. You’re lucky to have someone who does.”
“I guess that’s one way to think of it.” The waitress sets down my plate, braciole is a steak rolled with prosciutto and cheese covered in marinara sauce. The dish is complete with angel hair pasta also covered in marinara as the side. “What do you have again? It looks delicious.”
I laugh at his look of envy. “Do you want to try some? I don’t mind sharing.” He nods, so I cut up a few bites and put it, along with some pasta, on the plate I hadn’t used for my calamari. “Here you go.”
A little moan comes out of him that goes up my spine in a tingle. “This is amazing. What is this again?”
“Braciole, it’s one of my favorites.”
We don’t talk much as we eat. When the waitress comes to check on us he orders braciole to go for later.
“I’m going to have to sneak it past Alice.” He leans back. “We are doing this. You’re coming home with me tonight. We’re going to seal this deal. Are you ready?”
Chapter Five
It’s the only question she gets to answer. If she needs time, I’ll do my best to give it to her, but she’s mine. She knows it as much as I do. She inhales deeply. I watch her very real, very luscious breasts tremble. Then she nods. “Yes.”
Thank fucking god. I signal for the check. “This isn’t something I’ve done before. I have a friend who has though. He gave me his contract as a kind of guide so I’d know what might be included. Do you have one already?”
“I do actually. It’s revisable, of course, although there are a few things I’m not willing to change.”
“Then let’s go take a look.” I’m wondering what things she’s not willing to change. I’m already not happy about the no sucking of my cock, and wonder how many more things I’ll have to forego. The waitress is at the table with my braciole to go and the bill. I’m carrying cash, glad for the quick exit it gives me.
When she gets out of the booth her dress slides up and my hands itch to touch her again. She sways into me when my hand goes to her back to guide her out of the restaurant. Her ass is perfection, I’m fighting not run my hand over the curve that makes me rethink my status as a tit man. When she shivers, my jaw tightens at her response to me.
I was sure I would find her as attractive in person as I had the picture online. But what I’m feeling for her is so much more than mere attraction, the desperate craving to know every inch of her isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before. My uneasiness about it is appeased only by Anne obviously feeling the same. Hers is no act, from her loss of composure in the back of the car to the way her breath shook when she looked at me. I don’t know what it is about her or why. I don’t care. All I know is she has lit a fire inside me that will only be quenched by being inside her.
I hail a cab to take us home. The drive home is taking forever. She’s home, too. She isn’t going anywhere.
“You live in the Water Tower Place? I’ve wondered what it was like inside here.”
Her dress slides up again as she gets out of the car. As sexy as she is in this dress I can’t wait to get her out of it. The door is open before I even get to it.
We enter the elevator and she doesn’t leave my side as I swipe before punching my floor. “Sixty-second floor, I bet your view is amazing.”
“It’s your view now, too.” My arm around her waist, I guide her toward my door. “You aren’t going anywhere. You live here now.”
I watch her breath catch before she nods. Her grey eyes are pewter now, telling me what I need to know. “Yes.”
“My bed is where you belong. There is another room with an ensuite bathroom for some nights, but not all.” She shivers, pressing against me.
When I open the door, her eyes go everywhere. The foyer is all white marble, which I actually can’t stand, with a marble table where I stash my keys in a silver bowl in the middle.
The rest of the place is all dark wood on the floor with chair railing and crown molding. All the colors on the walls are varying shades of blues. “If there’s anything you don’t like, you can change it. It’s a three bedroom, well actuall