Table for Four

by Diana Hunter

  “Please, by all means. We are happy to share the table.” David tore his eyes away from the blonde beauty just long enough to dismiss the waitress. But anything further was cut off as he watched the goddess readjust her seat, and flip up her short skirt to place her naked rear end on the vinyl seat cover. He knew he was ogling, but he just couldn’t stop. It wasn’t every day that a beautiful woman just walked into your life and showed you her ass.

  David’s entranced absorption of the blonde goddess’ actions made her male companion smile. He watched his partner and when her soft blue eyes met his and she nodded, he knew she wanted to play. While he spoke English extremely well, he let his rich baritone affect more of an accent than usual as he made his apologies to the couple whose booth they had invaded.

  “Thank you, sir, you have saved my lovely Adora from having to stand so long in her shoes. They make her sexy, do they not?” He put out his left hand and Lissa caught sight of a large gold signet ring on his forefinger—but no wedding band a little further along. The woman he called Adora smiled at him and placed her hand in his. The image of her slender and delicate hand in his larger and rougher one made Lissa’s heart skip a beat as she recognized their poetic contrast: he was night, she was day.

  David’s mouth was dry and he hurriedly sipped from his water glass to cover the fact that this man’s girlfriend had given him a hard-on—an amazing accomplishment, considering he had just had sex with his wife not an hour before. “Yes,” he finally managed. “Yes, her shoes, I mean, your shoes are very sexy.” He tried not to look down, but the woman’s tight shirt barely covered her bosom and her cleavage just cried out to for a quick glance.

  “Oh, David, really!” scolded Lissa, totally embarrassed by her husband’s obvious fascination with the blonde, but more embarrassed by her own internal reactions to the man beside her. Her panties were soaked and her pussy was open and aching, right there in the restaurant. For crying out loud, she was a married woman!

  “Methinks my Adora likes your husband’s attentions, even as you are not sure you appreciate mine, my dear woman. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Master Richard.”

  If the man were not sitting so close to her and so obviously exuding sex appeal all over the place, Lissa might have laughed at the Hollywood movie tone the man affected. And what was up with the Master title? All the man needed was an opera cape with red satin lining and the picture would be complete. He already was dressed in the suit. All right, so he wasn’t wearing a white tie and tails, but a nice three-piece, well-cut, black, very sexy suit.

  His left hand occupied with Adora, Richard now held out his right to Lissa, palm up in a gesture of peace. He noted how the woman beside him shrank away, careful to not touch him with any part of her body, and waited until she extended her own hand, noting she was unable, or unwilling, to meet his eyes. Master Richard gently took her hand in his, turning it and bringing it to his lips. The kiss on the back of her hand intentionally put her off balance.

  Lissa knew she should not sit here and hold hands with a perfect stranger, no matter how sexy he was. Even knowing she should pull her hand away, she remained still, letting him touch her.

  “Pleased to meet you,” she murmured, more out of habit than real pleasure.

  Richard decided to let the pretty dark-haired woman off the hook, turning to the gentleman across from her. “Sir, you have met Adora, my beloved. And I have introduced myself. Is it not the custom for you to now introduce your wife and yourself?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, since the man was still entranced with his companion.

  “Oh! Erm, yes, of course.” David cleared his throat and shook his head, trying desperately to bring his mind back under control and focus on something other than the extremely sexy woman beside him. “I’m David Patterson, and this is my wife, Lissa.”

  “Enchanted.” Richard released Adora’s hand, but still held Lissa’s; he turned it over to place a tender kiss on her palm. His eyes held hers, never leaving her face; Lissa felt her soul was open to the man’s inspection. An absurd thought ran through her head that perhaps the man really was the King of the Gypsies and she smiled at the absurdity.

  “Ah! Your lady smiles and the world lights with happiness.”

  The waitress brought their dinners and saved Lissa further embarrassment. Her cheeks burning a bright pink, she withdrew her hand to take her dinner plate from the waitress’ hand. Since the new arrivals had not yet ordered, the server now turned her attention to the handsome couple. Richard’s voice was different when he spoke to the waitress; he ordered for the two of them in clipped tones that brooked no nonsense. It occurred to Lissa that she had yet to hear the woman speak.

  As the waitress hurried away and Master Richard turned his attention to David, Lissa tried to calm the heartbeat that thundered in her ears. What was it about the man beside her that caused her stomach to flutter as if she were a schoolgirl? Clearly David appreciated Adora, and Lissa knew that she should be jealous—he certainly hadn’t looked at her like that in a very, very long time.

  But as the two men spoke, Lissa found she could not find it in her to be resentful. One might as well be jealous that one’s lover appreciated the Venus d’Milo or one of Ruben’s beauties. There was no denying the woman was as much a work of art as her male companion. Under her lashes, Lissa found her gaze pulled back to the man beside her time and time again. His high cheekbones fascinated her; subtle emotions played over his face, keeping her attention. Although not loud or boisterous, he dominated the conversation, turning it, guiding it along safe lines. She, herself, did not join in. Naturally shy by nature, she let David do the talking while she sat feeling awkward at the entire situation.

  Adora also remained silent while the two men exchanged ideas and learned about each other. Lissa glanced at her now and again and more than once their eyes met. Each time, Lissa was favored with a friendly smile, but not a single word did the woman utter.

  That wasn’t to say the woman did not communicate. Adora actively listened to the conversation, often smiling at the men when one of them said something particularly clever or witty. When Master Richard started to order dessert for the two of them, she frowned and shook her head; her partner changed the order to reflect her wishes.

  For his part, David found the man to be extremely well-educated, well-read, and well-spoken. The two had numerous interests in common; the theatre, art films, and tastes in books were all discussed and agreed upon. Richard did not seem to mind David’s appreciation of his companion’s beauty; and the attention Richard paid to Lissa made David feel grateful. It also lessened his feelings of guilt for his early blatant reaction. He did not notice Adora’s reticence—only her smile when he said something that pleased her.

  Finally, dinner and desserts consumed, the time came to depart. Lissa had been ready to leave for some time—the temperature in the diner had grown extremely warm. Too bad she and David had already had their Saturday night sex; she certainly needed to give vent to the arousal that had continued to build inside her all through dinner. She thought of herself as she had been earlier, spread upon the bed; open, wanting—only the man who walked through the door to release her was not her husband, but Master Richard.

  She watched his graceful hands as he accepted his dinner bill from the waitress, well-kept, strong hands. Large and powerful. He wore only the one silver ring; his long fingers needed no other adornment. In her mind, she imagined those hands caressing her helpless body, playing with her as a cat plays with its food. Those fingers running along her spread arms, touching her breasts…

  “Lissa. Lissa,” David repeated. What was wrong with her? She’d been very quiet all through dinner, yet she hadn’t seemed upset. Or was she mad at him for his attention to Adora? “Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes, David, I’m right here.” Lissa answered, her voice calm even though his question had jolted her from her erotic reverie. “I’m sorry, what did you ask me?” She brought her mind back to the prese
nt with a struggle.

  “Do you have anything planned for Monday night?”

  “No, neither of us have anything on the calendar.” It was a running joke between the two of them—if a date was not on the calendar, it didn’t exist. Both of them were very careful to inform the other of various appointments and commitments. The calendar served as another example of their neat and ordered lives.

  “Fine, then. Richard, we will be there around six on Monday evening then.”

  “Be there? Be where?” Lissa mentally cursed her momentary lapse into daydreaming.

  “Richard has invited us to join Adora and him for dinner at their place on Monday,” David explained patiently.

  “I trust, Madame Patterson, that is acceptable to you?” He made no attempt to hide the humor in his eyes; his careful questioning of her husband and her own reactions to him gave him the information he needed. Though her own silent signal, Adora had communicated to him her wishes in the matter; this couple had definite possibilities.

  Master Richard had turned his gaze on her once more and again she felt the force of those dark eyes. This was totally not acceptable to her. She opened her mouth to protest when those long and sexy fingers closed over hers on her lap and her heart jumped into her throat, forestalling her objection.

  “Please, Madame, be our guest. Adora would love your company.”

  Lissa’s eyes sought out the woman, who gazed back at her with warmth and friendship. Why don’t you speak to me? Lissa wanted to shout at her. David pushed his foot against his wife’s leg and got Lissa’s perturbed attention. He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward Adora with his head. Lissa understood. David wanted another opportunity to get an eyeful of the beautiful woman.

  “Yes,” Lissa finally replied, defeated and aware that Master Richard still held her hand. She shrank even further into the corner of the booth as she once again extricated herself from his touch. “Thank you for your invitation; we will be happy to visit with you for dinner.” Her words were wooden and the malevolent glance she tossed in her husband’s direction let David know the two of them would have it out when they got home.

  Master Richard stood and Lissa breathed a little easier. The Gypsy King held out his hand to his Beautiful Lady, who accepted his gesture with grace as she stood and smoothed her short skirt. Without another word—or another look at Lissa or David—the couple paid their bill and left the diner. Lissa let out a sigh of relief that went to the very bottom of her toes.

  “Well, thank goodness they’ve gone.” She dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her temples. “How could you accept that invitation without asking me?”

  David looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Were you or were you not sitting right here at this table when he asked us? I tried to catch your attention, but you were off in la-la land or something. Just what were you looking at anyway?”

  “His hands.”

  “His hands? You couldn’t hear what was being said because you were watching his hands?”

  The graceful way his hands moved through the air as he spoke, drawing his point in the space before him as if the atmosphere itself were his canvas. Those hands drawing on her body, melting her, molding her, taking her to places she only dreamed of.

  “Yes,” she snapped. “I was watching his hands. Sue me. At least I wasn’t trying to undress him!” Her daydream hadn’t gotten that far.

  “Lissa, I think we’d best go home.” David slid out of the booth with an air of finality.

  “Fine.” She knew she was being unreasonable. But how could she tell her husband, whom she loved so very deeply, that she was having a fantasy about another man?

  * * * * *

  They walked the few blocks to their home in silence. Darkness had fallen and although the neighborhood was a safe one, Lissa still held David’s arm for protection. It deterred men from giving her a second glance when they realized she already belonged to someone. Many others were out enjoying the summer evening and she smiled and nodded to those they passed, glad for David’s arm.

  Usually David liked this walk home through the busy streets. Greeting both friend and neighbor was always a pleasant activity. Not so tonight. He was glad they met no one they knew, he didn’t really want to be dragged into a long conversation about small talk. Not when his mind was still filled with images of a bare-assed blonde—and with an upset wife beside him.

  “Lissa, come here.” David gestured to the living room couch as soon as they entered their front door. “We need to talk about why you’re so mad. Please?” he added when he saw her hesitation.

  She never could resist that puppy dog look he got in his eyes when he wanted something. Acquiescing, she followed him to the couch and tucked a leg under so she could sit facing him. Crossing her arms, she waited for him to start.

  “Dinner was very…interesting,” David began, letting his voice trail off so Lissa would embellish, and enlighten him as to why she was angry.

  “Interesting is a good word.” She knew full well what he was doing and didn’t feel in the mood to help him at all. He could fish all he wanted, she wasn’t going to bite.

  “Richard’s smart and witty.”

  Lissa nodded. So far the ground was safe, but any conversation about the male half of the couple was bound to make her start blushing and then she’d tip her hand. Better to get David to talk. “But Adora didn’t say a single word all evening, did you notice?”

  “Well, you were pretty quiet as well, my dear heart. Don’t think I didn’t notice your own reticence.”

  Blast him, he’d turned the conversation neatly back to her own feelings—right where she didn’t want to be. She tried again. “I wonder what type of voice she has—low and sultry? Or soft and sexy?”

  David gave up. “All right, let’s just talk about it, all right? I have no idea what her voice sounds like; I was too busy looking at her body. There. Are you satisfied?”

  Lissa smiled. Bingo! Getting David to talk about Adora was much safer than bringing her male companion into the conversation. Tucking her own disquieting fantasies deep into her dreams, she endeavored to keep the conversation about her husband and his imaginings. Her voice took on a gentler tone. “David, I really don’t mind that you ogled her body—how could you not? You’re a red-blooded American male with distinctly good taste in beauty.” She shrugged her shoulders. “If you hadn’t responded, I would have been seriously concerned about your eyesight, and your libido!”

  “So you don’t mind that I had several impure thoughts about another woman?” David narrowed his eyes as he zeroed in on his target. In his heart, he knew she wasn’t really angry, over the years the two of them had often pointed out objects of beauty to one another. No, her anger stemmed from something else that she didn’t want to admit.

  “No, I don’t really mind that you found her attractive—she is a beautiful woman.”

  “And Richard certainly seemed to be a handsome man, don’t you think?”

  Lissa pulled her leg out from under her in an effort to hide her thoughts from her husband. “Yes,” she stated, keeping her voice flat, “he is a handsome man.” She sneered, “But what kind of man goes around calling himself Master Richard? Seems to me he was a bit full of himself, calling himself that!” Of course, there was one type of man who had that right. But even those in the “lifestyle” as they called it, didn’t give that title out in public. Hours spent pouring over Internet sites, discovering she was not alone in wanting to be tied up, had also taught her something of the etiquette of Dominant/submissive relationships. A relationship she suspected their dinner companions shared. A relationship she would love to experience.

  But David would never understand that, and she had no words to tell him. Instead she just frowned and shook her head. “Master, indeed!”

  “He had an accent, perhaps where he comes from, that’s the proper form of address, or maybe he’s just not so familiar with modern American customs.” David felt a need to defend the man with whom he
’d just spent an enjoyable dinner. But he knew he was getting closer—was it her feminist leanings that made her dinner partner rub the wrong way?

  Lissa rolled her eyes at David’s suggestions. “I doubt either of those is true. I think he’s a man who just likes to put on airs.” Airs that caused her flesh to cry out for his touch. Airs that made her breath catch in her throat. She averted her gaze and fiddled with a newspaper on the coffee table so he would not read the truth in her eyes.

  David stood. They would get nowhere tonight. Lissa had slammed up a wall and was not about to take it down while the reasons were so fresh. Maybe by morning she would have put everything into perspective and they could discuss it again.

  “Well, dear, I’m sorry I got you into a dinner you do not want to attend. Won’t you please go and just put up with him for one more evening? Then, if he doesn’t make a better impression on you, I won’t push it further.” He held out his hand to help her to her feet.

  “All right.” He was making those puppy dog eyes at her again and Lissa knew when she was defeated. “But I’m taking you at your word. If I don’t want to ever see them again after dinner Monday night, I don’t have to. You and Master Richard can go off and do things on your own.”

  David laughed. “And perhaps you and Adora will become best friends!”

  “Only if she learns how to talk!” Lissa shot back as they entered the bedroom.

  “Perhaps you should not talk now,” David whispered as he pulled his wife close to him, nuzzling his nose deep into her auburn hair, her spicy scent filling his senses as images of long blonde tresses swirled a net around his imagination.

  To have sex twice on a Saturday night was unusual to say the least. But then, it had been an unusual Saturday dinner. Lissa did not complain when her husband’s lips closed over hers emphasizing his desire for her silence. She inhaled his aftershave, letting the scent begin to carry her away even as her mind wondered what cologne a Gypsy king would wear.