“It’s a bloody Brussels sprout.”
His eyes flare at the word bloody, and suddenly I’m thinking about his lips against mine telling me to say fuck.
“Fuck,” I whisper, watching his lips. He swears under his breath, then leans in to whisper in my ear.
“Eat, Kate. Please. You’re killing me here.”
“I am?” I smile widely, ridiculously proud of myself.
“Yes.” He takes my hand in his and guides it under the table to his lap. “See?”
“Wow,” I whisper, letting my hand roam over the bulge in his pants. “This is impressive.”
“Thank you.” He laughs and takes a drink of water, and when I squeeze my hand, just a little, he chokes on it. “Kate.”
“I mean, you won’t have any problem getting this in.”
“Stop.” He tugs my hand away, kisses my palm, and lays my hand back on the table. “The bartender gave you some strong drinks.”
He offers me the Brussels sprout again, and I open my mouth, obliging him.
“It’s good,” I say, surprised.
“You’re good at food.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
I eat two more of the delicious vegetables. “I do.”
“Here’s your water, miss.” Joe smiles down at me with those super blue eyes, and I sigh, just a little.
“It’s too bad you didn’t give in to my flirting, Joe. You’re almost as delicious as these Brussels sprouts.”
“Kate.” I glance at Eli, who is pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“So, liquor makes you come on to men, then? Is it true that tequila makes your clothes fall off?”
“No, tequila makes me throw up. Vodka makes my clothes fall off.” I grin and sip my water. “You might want to take notes.”
“No need. I don’t think I’ll ever forget anything about you.”
“Oh.” I sigh and lick my lips. “You say really great things.”
“Only the truth.”
I want to say more, but I clench my lips together, determined to not give too much away in my drunken stupor. Thankfully, Joe returns with our entrees, and Eli and I both dig in, enjoying the sounds of the diners around us, the night birds, and crickets. My cheeks feel warm from the alcohol, but the fuzzy haze is clearing from my head a bit with the food. Eli finally places the rest of the lemon drop he confiscated in front of me to finish with a grin.
“I’ve learned something about you tonight, cher.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You have a three drink limit,” he replies with a laugh. “And, from now on, I’m asking for the oldest, ugliest waiter on staff.”
“I probably wouldn’t have dumped you for Joe,” I inform him with a grin. “Although, the man is pretty hot. And has strong hands. And brings me drinks.”
“Are those your requirements?” Eli asks.
“Some of them.”
“What are the rest?”
“What are your requirements?” I ask, rather than answer him.
“As of about a week ago, I only have one requirement. That she be you.”
I blink at him, unsure that those words actually came out of his mouth.
He shrugs one shoulder, watching me closely. “Call it what you want.”
Eli settles the check and then holds his hand out for mine, pulling me to my feet. He leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth sweetly, then whispers in my ear, “You’re all I want, Kate.”
My nipples tighten, and the expensive lacy panties I’m wearing under my black maxi skirt are soaked as he leads me back to the sidewalk and toward our homes. I slip my hand in his and link our fingers, loving the way his big hand feels in mine. I lean back just a bit and take a quick look at his tight butt in his khaki slacks. He’s wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolls up on his forearms, showing off the sinewy muscles that flex and move under his skin.
“Yep, I was just checking out your butt.”
He shakes his head and laughs. “And?”
“Is that all?”
“And it’s impressive.”
He moves my hand to his other hand and cups my ass in the palm of his hand, gives it a pat, then takes my hand back in his. “Likewise, dawlin’.”
“My loft feels really far away right now.”
“It’s right there,” he says, and points to the building just a half of a block away.
But, before I know it, we’re climbing the stairs to my door, and when we reach the top, Eli spins me, pins me to the door, and kisses me like a man starving. I grip his hair in my hands, loving the way the soft strands feel between my fingers, and press my belly against his pelvis. He’s hard and thick, and I need to get him naked.
He pushes his hand under the hem of my top and glides his magical hand up to cup my breast over the lace of my bra.
“God, I fucking love your lingerie choices,” he mutters, and drags his lips down my jawline to my neck, nibbling as he goes, sending shivers all over my body.
“I have a thing for pretty underwear.”
“Thank Christ.” His other hand cups my ass and he boosts me up high on his thigh. I shamelessly rub myself on his thigh, needing to get closer. God, he’s just hard, everywhere.
“Come inside,” I murmur and kiss his cheek when he rests his temple on my forehead, then turns his face and kisses me lightly on the lips. His thumb brushes my nipple again, making me gasp and press harder on his thigh, but he pulls away, breathing hard, and swallows thickly.
“What?” My eyes snap up to his. He’s panting, and just as turned on as I am.
“No, it’s okay.” I look down, disappointment singing through my veins, but he tilts my head up and kisses me sweetly.
“I’m not turning you down, and trust me when I say, I’m going to have you in every way there is to have you, but you’ve had too much to drink, and I’m not convinced that you trust me all the way yet. We’re getting there, cher.”
“I trust you. I trust you to give me a few of the best orgasms of my life.”
“Killing me,” he whispers, before planting his lips on my forehead and taking a deep breath.