Sweet Tarte – Sweet Enough to Eat

Something dark flashes across Dimitri’s expression, making me draw a sharp breath and brace myself for a wave of something that may just drag me out to sea never to be seen again.

“Victoria.” He starts, and all I can think of is how good he smells and how impossibly perfect his lips are when he says my name. “I’ve wanted to say this for the last hour.”

He rubs his forehead with two fingers just above the bridge of his nose, then squeezes my hand and I brace myself, because what I want him to say, and what I think he is about to say, are having an all out fist-to-cuffs inside my head.

“What? Did I say something wrong? I mean, the meal was incredible. I don’t know what you know about food, I’m sorry if I sounded arrogant and silly…”

“No.” He snaps. “You were perfect. Everything…” He withdraws his hand from his face and gives a soft wave toward me, then around the room. “Tonight was perfect. But, I want more, Victoria.”

His voice thickens on the last few words and there are places in my body tingling I never knew about before tonight.

This is crazy.

This is crazy.

This is…

“I want more too.” I blurt out, shoving my chair, listening to it topple over onto the floor as I lean across the table, spilling probably eight hundred dollars worth of wine on a table cloth worth more than I make in a week and planting my mouth directly onto Dimitri Dolce Cossacks’ lips.

Discretion be damned.

For the first time in my life, I’m taking a chance—even if the odds are most definitely not in my favor.

4

Dimitri

PEOPLE OUTSIDE OF THE restaurant world might find it surprising that on a daily basis, I’m offered more ass than most men could get in a lifetime.

But I don’t mix business with pleasure, and I’ve become a master at shutting down advances almost before they’re offered. I’m no saint, in my younger years I dated a bit, but building my business and honing my craft always took point over meaningless sex and the sense that I was more a conquest or a prize to be won than anything else.

I’ve never had a one-night stand. Never slept with a woman on a first date. Never had this sort of driving urge to fill someone with all of me. My balls feel like they weigh ten pounds, drawn up and ready to give her every drop of something I’ve never given another woman.

I don’t ever remember feeling like this with anyone. When Victoria’s lips met mine, lights of colors I’ve never seen before exploded behind my eyes. I knew there was an instant attraction to her when I saw her come into the restaurant, but what I’m feeling right now is new—and quite frankly, it’s scaring the shit out of me.

“Victoria…” I grip her face as I slip out from my chair and pull her around toward me. “I’m a straight shooter. I’m vulgar, I swear, I’m demanding and I can be a prick sometimes. But, fuck, you have to know, I want you. My dick is so fucking hard right now, I don’t think there is enough blood pumping through the rest of my body to keep my vital organs functioning much longer.”

“Wow.” Her bright eyes catch on mine. “If you keel over, I’ll dial 911.” She makes an X over her chest with one hand. “Cross my heart.”

“Sorry if that’s too much information, but I don’t believe in holding back. There’s something about you. I don’t understand it, it’s like you’re pulling me toward you. I felt it when I first looked at you downstairs.”

“I thought it was just me. Thought it was the wine. I’ve never had a drink before, wasn’t sure what I would feel like, but this might not just be the alcohol.”

I shake my head. “It’s not alcohol. I fucking want you so bad, Victoria. My dick is about to tear right though my pants, trying to get to you. It’s like a lion that’s been caged too long.” I groan and drop my forehead to hers, and there’s a drumbeat deep inside me, telling me to take her.

Claim her.

Make sure she understands what it means to be mine.

Mine.

Even now, after our short time together, I can’t imagine letting her go. Whatever this connection is we have, it’s as tangible as the floor beneath my feet.

“That would be a shame.” She half-whispers, her warm breath sweet against my lips. “Ruining a nice pair of pants like that.”

I pull back to see the playful smile curve her sexy lips. This sweet thing is unraveling my world. Unwinding my control. She’s young. So fucking young. But it’s more than her youth and her beauty.

She’s intuitive beyond her years. She has a palate to be envied, so rare in someone her age. She’s smart, probably brilliant, along with being sharp-witted and funny. She’s a package I never believed to be real. And her hold on me is tightening with every beat of my heart.