by Nella Tyler
We didn't say too much during the car ride, but I enjoyed the drive. I felt at ease with him, even with the silence. For some reason, I didn’t feel compelled to fill it. He didn’t, either. It was a comfortable silence, something that I rarely experienced with my previous boyfriends. To my surprise, he eventually pulled up to Saint Jacques restaurant. I know it served French and European cuisine, but I had never been there. I had heard about it, though; that a native of France owned it from Provence and that the owner had worked in a number of three-star Michelin restaurants in Europe. The food would be good.
We walked arm in arm to the front door, which the host opened for us as we approached. A hostess smiled her welcome and then led us to a far corner of the main room. We were seated in a quiet, private and secluded corner and handed menus. I had no idea what to order, so suggested that Luke do so. "I've never come here, have you?"
He nodded. “Many times."
"Then would you mind ordering for me?" I asked. "The only thing that I don't care for are snails and shellfish."
He laughed. "I like shellfish, but the snails I can do without," he agreed.
He spent several moments scanning the menu, but glanced up as the waiter appeared. Even the waiters and other servers were dressed to the hilt in black trousers, black long-sleeved shirts, and narrow red ties.
"Are you ready to order, Sir?" he asked.
"Yes, we'll start with two glasses of Dubonnet Blanc, on the rocks please, with a lemon twist."
He glanced at me for approval and I merely shrugged. A white wine, that’s all I knew.
“Would you care for an appetizer?”
Luke nodded. "Two goat cheese gratin salads and for the entrée, two orders of the salmon."
The waiter nodded and disappeared. "I hope those selections were all right,” Luke said. “The warm goat cheese gratin salad is really good. It's a small medallion of goat cheese grounded on a focaccia crostini on top of a small arugula salad. It has red grapes, pears, and a splash of pomegranate vinaigrette for the dressing. Does that sound okay to you?"
I nodded. In fact, my mouth was beginning to water. I hadn't had anything to eat all day. “It sounds perfect."
"The salmon is maple glazed and grilled and served on a bed of polenta cake dusted with apples. It's also served with green brussel sprout petals."
"I love salmon," I smiled. "Perfect choices."
"I aim to please," he grinned.
His grin caused my blood to rush to my face. Gads, he was sexy and I had to wonder if he even realized how good-looking he was. I tried to calm my racing pulse and opted for safer territory. We engaged in small talk, nothing serious. The glasses of wine were brought to our table. We sipped and continued talking about his house, what he still planned to do with it, and how I was getting along indoors with the work.
By the time our dinner salads had arrived, I was feeling very comfortable. I told him that I was getting along fine with my duties, resisting the urge to tell them it was my first job at all.
To be honest, I was growing quite enthralled with his charm. If I weren’t careful, I would find myself falling head over heels for him. He seemed more comfortable now, away from the house. He was the perfect host, knowing just when to break the silence and when to eat in silence. His questions were superficial and safe. I didn’t ask him too many in return, knowing that the ones I really wanted to ask were off limits, at least for now.
Despite the lack of serious topics, I felt that we had a fun and meaningful conversation. By the time the dinner plates arrived, I admitted to myself that I was having a really good time. He made me feel comfortable. I brushed off his behavior from the first day, when he’d spent nearly the entire day watching me, staring at me. Tonight, he was a totally different person – comfortable, secure with his persona. I liked this Luke.
By the middle of the entrée, our wine glasses were refilled. Following dinner, I opted for dessert, a chocolate mousse with raspberry coulis, while Luke chose a specialty of the house, vanilla ice cream stuffed with homemade merengue and rolled in powdered sugar and nuts and topped with white chocolate ganache.
To be honest, I was impressed with the restaurant, the menu, the service, and prestige of the place, as well as the fact that Luke had chosen this restaurant to bring me to. While I was used to fine dining, I had never been here. It had the reputation of being one of the best restaurants in the city and I had certainly enjoyed the decadent meal. Even with my family's money, I had never indulged in such a place as this. Added to my positive impression was Luke’s polite and gentlemanly charm. As I sat across the table from him for the evening, I couldn't help but feel incredibly attracted to him. He was so handsome. I wondered what it would feel like to have him kiss me again, to wrap his arms around me, to…well, no sense in going that far, I told myself.
Chapter 12
After dinner, I sat back in my chair, trying not to slouch. I was stuffed! The tab had been paid and we sat comfortably for several moments. "That was amazingly delicious," I complemented Luke on his dinner choices. "You made excellent selections. I feel as if I made a pig of myself tonight!"
He laughed. "No more so than me," he said. "While I prefer home cooking, it's nice to get out once in awhile and get pampered, don't you think?"
I smiled again. "Totally!"
"Well, I guess we can head back to the mansion so you can pick up your clothes and your purse." He paused. "I’ll have my driver take you home tonight again."
I shook my head. "No need, Luke, I feel fine."
He shook his head and spoke softly. "I pressed two glasses of wine on you. I would feel terrible if something happened. My driver can take you home, okay? For my own peace of mind?"
I stared at him, my eyes caressing his eyes, his strong cheekbones, and those wonderful lips. He seemed to really care, he really did. How could I refuse such concern and generosity? I finally nodded. He stood, came around to my chair and pulled it out as I stood. Then, placing my hand on his strong forearm, he led the way out of the restaurant.
I followed him to his car and once settled into the comfortable leather seats, relaxed to the point that I could have allowed myself to fall asleep on the ride home. We didn't speak, and rather than being awkward, the silence was again comforting. He turned on the stereo. I was surprised by the channel he had chosen, but loved the sound…Big Band from the 1940s, I thought. I never would have thought he was into swing. I think he saw me looking at him with a quizzical expression.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he laughed. “I listen to just about everything. Tonight, I just feel like Benny Goodman. Tomorrow night it might be Ozzy or Rammstein. You never know.”
I smiled, leaning back in my seat. I wondered why he didn’t offer to drive me home himself. Then again, he had also had two glasses of wine. Better that his driver takes the longer distance, I reasoned.
By the time we got to the mansion, I was feeling a bit woozy, but not dizzy and certainly not drunk. Just super relaxed. He stepped out of the Jeep and moved around to my side of the car and opened the door, a gentle hand on my elbow as he helped me out. We walked up the front porch steps to the door and he opened it.
As we stood in the foyer he gestured toward the living room off to the left. "Go ahead and sit down, Molly," he invited. "I’ll call for my driver. While we wait, would you care for a nightcap?"
I knew what nightcaps meant, and I also knew that I shouldn't have anything more to drink, especially since I had already had two large glasses of wine. I didn't want a repeat of last night and have Luke thinking I was some kind of a lush. Or easy. Not like that skank he was going out with. I should ask him about that. No, not now.
The house was quiet, it was just the two of us, and the intoxication of his presence and even the still unanswered questions in my mind regarding the kiss he had given me last night played over and over in my head. Maybe I would take this opportunity to find out exactly what his intentions were.
"Okay Luke, but make it weak, whate
ver it is, will you?"
He nodded and disappeared briefly, reappearing with a cocktail glass in one hand, a chilled beer bottle in the other. I took the drink he offered and sipped. I could taste mango and pineapple in it, and perhaps vodka, although I certainly wasn't an expert at my liquors. We began to talk some more, sitting side by side on the couch. My thoughts were a bit on the fuzzy side and I kept losing track of the conversation. Between that and the food I had eaten, I could hardly keep my eyes open. I blinked and tried to stay focused, stiffening my spine.
I don't know how it happened, but one drink turned into two, and the next thing I knew, I felt so rubbery and deliciously warm that I could've just sagged back on the couch and slept there all night.
"I suppose I should be going," I finally mumbled. I wasn't slurring – yet – but I knew that one more drink would tip me over the edge. I glanced at Luke, who was again watching me. I frowned. He seemed to hold his liquor quite well and appeared perfectly normal. "But there is one thing I wanted to ask you about, Luke, if you don't mind?"
He finished off his drink, placed the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and turned slightly toward me, his arm on the back of the sofa and draped over my shoulders, almost touching them. I could feel its heat. His left knee brushed up against my right knee. Zing. A wave of heat not caused by alcohol surged through me. Crap. Was this chemistry or what?
“Certainly, Molly, ask me anything."
"It's a little embarrassing, but I want to talk about the kiss you gave me last night…"
"Ah…the kiss," he nodded and lifted an eyebrow. "What about it, Molly?"
Ugh. He was going to make me say it. "Well, I suppose I should ask what your intentions are," I finally shrugged. "After all, I'm your maid-"
"And you're also very beautiful woman," he murmured.
Before I knew it his head was leaning closer to mine. I knew that he was going to kiss me again. I was torn between wanting him to and not. I wasn’t thinking clearly at the moment. I know I should've stopped him, but then I told myself to shut up. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to feel his lips on mine again. I wanted to feel that flush of warmth that had surged through me last night and flowed through my veins for hours after I’d returned to my condo.
My heart rate accelerated and I felt tingling in my nipples as he leaned closer. Then, his lips were so close to mine I felt his breath, tinged with a hint of hops and barley. Then, his lips touched mine, feathery soft at first, then more firmly. The alcohol had taken the edge off my inhibitions and I found myself returning to kiss, pressing my lips more firmly against his. Before he knew it, my arms were wrapped around his shoulders and I was pulling him closer to me.
My breasts were pressed up against his rock hard chest. They tingled with sensations, while low in my belly; my nether regions also displayed their interest. The kiss was deep and elicited within me a myriad of emotions. While the kiss certainly got my body thrumming with desire, I also felt an odd sense of belonging as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. I had never felt this way before. I had never been kissed like this. In fact, I had never felt this compelled to return such a passionate kiss.
As my passion was ignited, I touched his lips with my tongue. That's all it took. The next second, his tongue was exploring my mouth and mine did the same with his, each of our tongues playing a sort of tango with each other. Give and take, give and take. My blood pumped and my body thrummed with desire.
I felt one of his hands move from my shoulder and reach for the front of my dress. I didn't stop him as his warm hand cupped my breast through the fabric and gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing gently over my nipple. It hardened into a pebble with his teasing. I was on fire, and desire set every nerve in my body aflame. I pulled him closer. I also grew more brazen, sliding one of my hands up underneath his polo shirt, the other cupping the back of his head. My fingers traced the heavy musculature of his ribs, and then splayed over his pectoral muscles, feeling his erect nipples. I groaned.
I felt myself grow damp with desire. Suddenly, one of his hands grasped mine and guided it toward his groin. I felt his heard, solid erection. For a moment, I felt a surge of warning, or panic, but then my heart rate accelerated further and my breathing grew heavier. I knew I should put a stop to this right now, but I couldn't. While my left hand rested on his erection, still tightly encased in his trousers, his right hand slid down my waistline, along my hips, and then along my thigh. Ever so slowly, his hand inched its way up underneath the bottom of my dress and explored the texture of my skin in excruciatingly small increments. It was as if he were exploring unchartered territory and giving me a chance to stop him from doing so all at the same time. I didn’t. Then, his palm cupped my pubis, sending heat waves surging through me.
I don't know if it was the alcohol or his overwhelming sexuality, but before I knew it, his shirt was off and the sleeves of my dress had been rolled down over my shoulders and sagged on my upper arms. My breasts were exposed to his view. He stared at them, one at a time, his pupils dilated with desire, his gaze full of admiration and want. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on my breasts. I arched my back, offering them to him. He obliged. I barely held back a gasp as his mouth found one nipple, circled it and the areola surrounding it, and then gave the same attention to the other. My back arched further and with my hand I pressed his head closer to my chest, encouraging him to continue. As I offered more of my breasts to him, he took full advantage. My hands then busied themselves caressing the smooth muscles of his back.
Then, ever so daring, I reached for the front of his pants. He leaned his weight into me, gently pressing me backward onto the couch, his tongue and fingers working their magic on my breasts. On my back now, with his body half-straddling mine, I unbuttoned his pants. My breath came in harsh gasps, impatient to feel the warmth of his chest pressed against mine. Freed of constraint, his erection literally fell into my hand. I grasped its solid, engorged length.
I had never felt so decadent in my life, and yet so fulfilled. It was incredible. Before I knew it, we were both divested of our clothing and my mind spinning with desire, alcohol, and the burning fire in anticipation. I realized that the kiss had turned into foreplay, and the foreplay was soon to culminate in our joining. I was hot and wet and ready.
For the briefest of seconds, I worried about protection, but then, his mouth still lathing my nipples, he reached down into one of his pockets, remove a foil packet, and, his lips leaving mine for just a few brief seconds, he glanced down at the packet and quickly tore it open. In a matter of seconds he had rolled the condom onto his erection. Then, after one more look into my eyes, and after receiving my intoxicated nod, he situated himself between my legs and plunged inside me.
Chapter 13
The next morning I woke slowly, relishing my state of comfort. I didn't open my eyes for several moments, just reveling in the moment. I couldn’t remember the time I had slept so well. The only thing that marred my blissful comfort in the bed was a pounding headache.
A pounding head. My heart thumped in horror. It all came back to me in a rush. My heart skipped a beat and then another. I frowned. I rarely drink very much, and had only experienced a hangover once while in college, and it was something that I promised I would never allow myself to do again. Then again, last evening with Luke had certainly been an experience. He was very gifted with sexual prowess and had brought me to heights of pleasure that I never even could've imagined – not just once, but two or three times. I was chagrined to admit to myself that I had lost count.
It was silent all around me, and I counted my lucky stars. Usually, my condo complex was a little noisy in the morning, as kids got ready for school, people slammed doors as they headed down to the parking lots and started their cars, radios sometimes blaring loudly until they were turned down. I was used to these everyday sounds of life as they greeted my ears. For a second, I wondered why it was so quiet and then realized, we
ll of course it was quiet, and it was a Saturday morning. Everyone would be sleeping in.
I settled a little deeper into the bed, fingering the soft sheets beneath me. Something niggled at my brain, but it was several moments before I realized that my cotton sheets didn't feel like butter, not like this. As my fingers splayed over the fabric, I realized that this was either fine Egyptian cotton with an incredibly high thread count or silk. I opened my eyes and felt a moment of confusion. This wasn’t my bedroom. This wasn’t my condo. A surge of alarm shot through me. Where was I?
I stared up at the ceiling, then glanced around and recognized it as the bedroom at Luke’s mansion – the one I had used to change into a cocktail dress last evening before Luke and I had gone out to dinner. Then, everything else after dinner came back to me with a rush. My heart skipped a beat and fear brought a cold sensation sweeping through me. I held my breath for a moment, thinking. I was still a Luke's house, in a bed that was not mine.
Then I remembered what we had done on the sofa downstairs. My mouth felt dry, the pounding in my heart vying for attention with my pounding head. I vaguely remembered coming upstairs, Luke helping me up, and then we toppled into this bed and made mad, passionate love again…no, two or more times.
"Oh God," I whispered, and closed my eyes. My privates felt sore, which was no wonder considering the exuberance with which we had both made love last night. I had never been so uninhibited before. Worse yet, I have been uninhibited with my boss!
I moved my hands slightly, felt the sheets again and then slowly grazed my fingers upward. Just as I thought – I was naked. I turned my head, and if my heart could have stopped, it would have at the moment that I saw Luke lying on the other side of the bed, his back turned to me. The covers had been shoved down to his waist and his glorious, naked back met my gaze. Oh my God.
