Man, is there anything as great as steak? Steaming hot, dripping with juices, garnished with bacon, singed on the outside, nearly raw on the inside steak? I apologize to any vegetarians in the audience, but no, there is not – there is steak, and then there’s all that other stuff that cries itself to sleep because it’s not steak.
I sliced into that aromatic slab of delicious beef, I started forking chunks of it into my mouth, and, well, time went by. I washed down the first few forkfuls with a glass of the wine I was finally permitted to drink, and mmm, it turned out Mr. K was great at picking out wine.
“The way you’re attacking that helpless steak might lead a man to think it had committed some grievous offense against your family.”
“Mmrflggghkl?”
Just a helpful hint, that’s Mouthfulofsteakese for ‘there’s somebody else here?’ Once I swallowed, I followed up with, “Yep, and I’m pretty sure this shrimp was an accomplice.” The shrimp began mysteriously disappearing within moments, and by this point the rice had to be getting pretty nervous.
Mr. Killane chuckled. “This is a first for me, and I must say I’m enjoying it with all my heart.”
I glanced up at him. My difficult and adorable boss had paused in the middle of a far more leisurely and measured assault on his broiled sea bass, and was smiling at me with a mischievous light in his eyes. I got caught up in those eyes, in admiring that broad, stubble-coated jaw, and for a minute there, I forgot steak existed.
Wait, didn’t he just say something?
I covered my flustered, aroused confusion by pouring another glass of wine and sipping it while trying to look the part of a calm and collected woman of mystery who ate ravishingly great steak with drop-dead sexy billionaires every night of the week.
“So what’s the first, boss? Seeing someone do justice to a steak? Making it this far into the meal without having your way with your dinner companion, right in the middle of the table? C’mon, enlighten me.”
“Ashley, it is a memorable first for me to watch a beautiful woman truly enjoy her food – to watch her appreciate it, savor it, and drink in its flavor in much the same way she would take pleasure from the taste of a deep, probing kiss.”
I shifted uncomfortably on my chair as I imagined getting a rough, commanding tongue kiss from this guy, being possessed and taken by his mouth …
He spun right along, pretending he didn’t notice the effect he was having on me. “I cannot count the number of times I have treated a lovely woman to dinner, only to discover that her idea of eating was to pick at a few lettuce leaves while posing artfully in her chair and delivering the occasional calculated witty remark.
“You, on the other hand, understand pleasure – the pleasure of food, the pleasures of the body, and for some mysterious reason, you even seem to take pleasure in my company, in talking to me and sharing with me. I had high hopes for this evening, certainly, but I had no idea it would prove to be so intoxicating.”
He paused to stir a spoon through his tea, and then took a sip. I pulled myself together, thought about what he’d said, and realized that I was looking at a near-first of my own.
“Well, as much you’ve had to deal with women who won’t eat, most guys get all judgmental and pissy with me when I eat – they think just because I have more than a few extra pounds, they’re entitled to referee every bite I take and glare at me if I dare to order seconds.”
Mr. Long and Tall seemed stunned at this revelation of how things are on Curvy Girl World. “My god, why would any man worthy of the name feed a woman and then become angered when she eats?”
“Hey, I’m sure pretty much every big girl on the planet has been through that – oh, and God help you if you’re heavy and ask to see the dessert menu. I’ve walked out on more than one dude who decided that gave him the moral right to lecture me about my sinful eating habits, right in front of a dining room full of people.”
“You know, I imagine they serve a spectacular dessert here.”
“I promise you a spectacular kiss later if you can make pecan pie appear in front of me now.”
“If they do not have it on hand, I will command the kitchen staff to produce as much pecan pie as my beautiful and alluring Ashley cares to eat.”
Yes, they did have pecan pie. And not just a single slice perched primly on a perfect china plate, either – an entire pecan pie arrived at our table moments later, drizzled with chocolate syrup and topped with a generous scoop of pecan praline ice cream.
It was way more than even I could eat at one sitting, but it was fun trying. I dug in, and I even talked Mr. K into sharing it with me. For future reference, be aware that it’s all kinds of fun and sexy to hand feed a tall, handsome guy slices of pecan pie – yep, things got just that silly, and we both enjoyed every minute of it.
Once we were pied out and the remaining slices of pecan heaven were nestled in a very classy to-go box, we met up with the limousine out front. I was more than a little giddy from the attention and the food and the wine and the entire surreal evening, and I spent most of the ride back to the hotel leaning against Mr. K in the back seat and giggling like a big, tipsy goofball. For his part, he tolerated my silliness with a grin, and kept a possessive arm around me the whole way.
I thought it was the perfect end to a bizarre but fun evening, but there was one more thing – that promise I’d made.
I’d forgotten all about it.
10. Desire and Time
Once we were back in the suite, I excused myself and headed for my bedroom. There I peeled off what was now my favorite red dress of all time, and then I showered away my nerves and giddiness and exhaustion.
I just about dropped my hair dryer afterward, when I glanced at the time – when the hell did it get to be almost midnight? We’d be flying back home at seven in the morning, so I needed to crawl between my covers and get some sleep right away, if I wanted to have any chance of being able to function that early – Ashley is fine through the small hours of the night, but I am most definitely not a morning person.
I pulled on a silk nightgown from the same sweet shopping trip that had netted me my business ensembles on the first day, and I was just about to dive into bed when it occurred to me I’d better check on the boss and see if he needed me to jump through any hoops or whatever before I turned in.
Um, but not in a nightgown, Ashley – at least not in just a curve-hugging nightgown and nothing else. You wouldn’t want him to think that an evening of steak and questions and wine and pie and giggles was all it took to get you into that enormous, sinful bed of his, interacting in a vigorous fashion with his enormous, sinful …
My body chimed in with its opinion that I should ditch the nightgown altogether, and waltz in stark naked to check up on him.
Shut the hell up, body, before you talk me into agreeing with you.
I found the thickest, softest, most luxuriously plush bathrobe I’d ever seen in the walk-in closet, pulled it on over the nightgown, and got it to wrap around my ample curves without too much trouble. I tied the sash securely around my middle – no surprise unveilings, body, deal with it – and went in search of my babysitting charge.
I pulled my bedroom door closed behind me, and I hadn’t taken two steps when Mr. Killane emerged from a doorway at the other end of the hall.
“Ashley, there you are – marvelous, I was about to come looking for you. I just need one more thing from you tonight, and then we have that early start in the morning.”
He strolled down the hall toward me, paging through a folder full of paperwork. He peered at one set of figures, pulled one sheet out and tucked it behind another, and hummed to himself all the while.
He’d changed since dinner: he now wore a different crisply-pressed white dress shirt, a blue silk tie covered with silver geometric patterns and fastened in a perfect full Windsor knot, and grey slacks with a crease that could have sliced human flesh. His gold cufflinks gleamed in the overhead light, a blind man could have seen himself in th
e mirror finish on those imported shoes, and overall Mr. K looked like someone ready for a 9 a.m. corporate takeover of God.
Damn it, I was exhausted and frumpy, and I hadn’t even been up since five in the morning – how could somebody look this good, this late, after a full day of moody bridge musings, business dealings, and pie eating?
“By an amazing coincidence, I was just on my way to check in with you before I get some sleep – so what do you need, boss man?”
“Well, I certainly don’t need any of this tiresome nonsense.” And just like that, he tossed the folder into the air.
Papers and figures and spreadsheets and diagrams of profit and loss fountained up to the ceiling and then fluttered down through the air as Mr. Killane watched them with a blissful smile.
As for me, I jumped back against the wall, batted away a couple of sheets that drifted past my face, and for about the five hundredth time while in Devon Killane’s presence, I wondered what the hell was going on.
“Ashley, do you recall your promise to me during dinner?”
Somewhere in the blur of the past few seconds, he’d moved to stand directly in front of me as I huddled against the wall. Now, only a couple of breathless inches separated us. He was so close, I felt the heat of his body in the narrow space between us, and sensed his warm breath stirring past my face as he stared down at me.
I looked up into his eyes, his strange and unsettling eyes. Something in those eyes, something unspoken and powerful and arousing, speared through me, and in an instant, I was trembling with need.
A smile flickered across his lips. “The promise, Ashley? The pie promise, as I suppose we might call it?”
“So you’re going to hold me to that, huh?” I was privately amazed I managed to get that many words out without succumbing to the desire to jump on him and claw his clothes off.
“I take promises quite seriously, my lovely and yearning Ashley. Now, as I remember, your exact words while delivering the promise in question were ‘I promise you a spectacular kiss later if you can make pecan pie appear in front of me now.’ By the mystical powers inherent in ordering food, I indeed did make pecan pie appear in front of you, and so the one thing I need before retiring tonight is that kiss you promised.”
Between one breath and the next, he settled his left hand over the right side of my face. His strong fingers splayed across my skin, holding me in place, as he bent down and licked my left ear. His tongue tasted and probed the folds of skin, and when he lightly nipped me there, I fought back a whimper.
He turned away from my ear, nuzzled the top of my head, then pulled back to smile at me once again.
“And remember, it was not merely a standard, perfunctory, dry peck of a kiss that was promised, but a ‘spectacular’ kiss – I shall most definitely insist on holding you to that part of the promise, Ashley.”
“So we’re talking tongue, right?”
“We’re talking tongue and lips and teeth, and if you fail to tickle and tease my uvula, I will be sorely disappointed.”
I drew in a deep, shaky breath. “Okay, big fella, a deal’s a deal. But I want … I mean, I don’t … but I do … I’m sorry, I …” My voice trailed off as my courage deserted me. What did I want, anyway?
Well, we both knew the answer to that.
“Ashley, look at me.”
My eyes snapped up to his face.
“Ashley, this is a kiss – a passionate one, I hope, but a kiss only and nothing more. I believe I’ve made it quite plain that I want more from you, that I want so much to explore and pleasure your body, to forge deep inside you and claim you as my own, but you’re not yet ready for that.”
“But I –”
“No. Your body is more than ready to surrender, but your mind is still fighting me – I don’t understand why you feel it’s somehow unethical or wanton to give in to your desire, but I do understand that we must both wait for more until you’ve reasoned the matter out.”
I kept my voice steady, somehow. “I’m not sure I trust myself to wait.”
“Ashley, I trust you.” He brushed back a strand of hair from my forehead. “You will know when you are ready for more than a kiss, and I am ready to wait until that moment comes.”
Then he hit me with that naughty-boy grin of his. “Of course, I reserve the right to be an annoying pest about it in the meantime, and I pledge to ply you with all manner of filthy suggestions and propositions, in public as well as private. Might you be able to live with my being such an insufferable ass?”
I just blurted it out, I don’t why. Hell, I’d only known him five days – but somehow, that didn’t seem to matter. “What if I want more than your body? What if I want you?”
His face flashed from light to dark in an instant. He stared at me for a long moment, just stared and said nothing. I held my breath.
He sighed, and something in his face changed … something sad and weary, and something – was I imagining it? – that said he wanted more than my body, too. No way was that possible, but I wanted to believe I’d seen it, somewhere in those mysterious and moody eyes.
My hands fisted at my sides as I waited for him to answer, and I nearly jumped when he spoke.
“Ashley, did I not say you would come to regret liking me?”
“And didn’t I say it was too late for that?”
His sad smile was heartbreaking. “It’s too late for both of us, Ashley, in more ways than one. I only wish we had more time.”
A sick, cold fear sliced through me. What did he mean by that?
Then he tossed his deck of personalities into the air again, and now Smoking Hot Sex Machine Guy loomed over me, smiling like six kinds of randy devil.
“But in the present moment I have an idea, and I’m certain you’ll love it. Give me your right hand.”
Without waiting for my thoughts on the matter, he took hold of my right fist and lifted it until my arm was stretched at full length along the wall, just below shoulder height. He pried my fist open, curled his fingers around mine, and then pinned that hand to the wall, leaning his strength into it, leaving no hope of that arm moving until he felt like releasing it. While I was still processing what was going on, he did the same with my left arm, stretching it wide across the wall. I let him clamp my left hand in his right, he put his weight into that grip as well, and now I was pinned in place and helpless, trapped against the wall and spread wide open, ready for him.
“There, isn’t this delightful? Why, it’s almost like real bondage.”
It was exactly like real damn bondage, at least to my inexperienced mind. It was also like sweet, delicious torture, and I couldn’t stand one more unrequited second of it.
“Talk is cheap, big guy – where’s that spectacular kiss?”
“I have it for you here, my beautiful Ashley.”
His mouth settled on mine, warm and hungry and possessive. I could barely move in the powerful grip of his hands and I could barely breathe beneath the commanding pressure of his kiss, of his lips sealed against mine. He leaned into me from above as I stretched up on tiptoe to meet him. If only my hands had been free, I would have sunk my nails into his arms, wrapped my legs around him, and climbed that man like a tree.
I wanted more. I breathed in the powerful musk of his scent, I felt the delicious sandpaper rasp of his beard stubble against my skin, I bent beneath his pressure, and I wanted more.
He gave me more, and more still. Mouth open, he teased my lips with the tip of his tongue, inviting me to open to him. He took a step closer to me and eased one knee between my legs, inviting me to open everything to him. My nipples brushed against the hard wall of his body and immediately tightened into hard points, as I ached with need and desire.
I gave way, and I opened my lips. His tongue dove into me, probing and tasting, as I moaned helplessly into his mouth. Wetness gathered between my legs, as I imagined being taken by more than his tongue – God, I wanted him inside me, all of him.
The only way I knew to tell him
was to bring my lips to bear on him, to capture and suck on his tongue, tasting him as he was tasting me.
Something between a purr and a growl rumbled in his throat, and then he took me with his moist, searching tongue. He thrust it deep into my mouth, over and over, taking me with firm, powerful strokes, fucking me with his tongue in the same way I was desperate for him to fuck me with his cock.
Nothing existed but his mouth and mine, his body and mine. In that moment, I lived for what his hungrily working mouth was doing to me, for the feelings it was drawing from me, the need, the warmth, the arousal –
And then his mouth was gone.
It was like waking up from a dream. I jumped a little, my eyes popped open, and for a fraction of a second, I had to think about just where I was and what exactly was going on.
Then he came back to me, for one sweet, endless moment. He dropped his head over to one side, he licked my throat, and then he fastened a hungry, sucking kiss onto the side of my neck. He took my skin between his teeth, nipping and worrying at it until the most delicious pain burned into me. I leaned into the pain, into his hungry mouth, wanting him to take me in deeper, wanting him to never, ever stop.
But of course, he did. After somewhere between a minute or two and forever, he stopped. He pulled away from my neck, dusted a single light kiss onto my forehead, and then took his mouth away from me. Releasing his grip on my hands, he stepped back.
Those hypnotic eyes stared at me, through me, as if he were all alone and studying himself in a mirror. His lips parted as he started to say something … but he stopped, and just sighed instead.
Then he turned from me. The most impossible man I’d ever met left me standing there shivering and stunned against the wall, and he walked away. He went back down the hallway, he disappeared through the nearest door, and he was gone, just like that.
My knees gave out. I sank down the wall to the floor and I just sat there, surrounded by drifts of papers, by piles of statistics and projections and percentages, and I wondered how I would ever survive Devon Killane.
Five Minutes Late: A Billionaire Romance Page 13
