Sex, Lust & Martinis

by Michelle Miles

  “What’s to talk about?”

  His lips thinned. He glanced down at his feet then back up at her. “I didn’t intend for that to happen last night, Delilah. I swear. I came here hoping we could talk. Nothing else.”

  She wasn’t sure if she believed him. “So why did it happen?”

  “Will you let me in so we can do this face to face?”

  After a moment of hesitation, she stepped aside. He strolled past her smelling so good and so delicious she wanted to grab him, shove him against the wall and do him right there. Again. She had to remind herself she was still ticked off at him.

  He halted in the kitchen and turned to her, an apologetic look on his face.

  “I’m truly sorry about what happened last night.” He sounded so sincere, she believed him. Wanted to believe him. “I’d like to make it up to you.”

  He paused. She waited.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Delilah, I’d like a fresh start. Wipe the slate clean and all that. I want to start over.”

  Her heart thudded, dancing around in her chest as though dancing for joy. They were words she never thought she would hear from Sam. Ever. And yet here he was apologizing to her. Telling her he wanted to start over.

  She stared at him. Is that what she wanted? A fresh start? He shifted from one foot to the other.

  “No expectations,” he continued when she hadn’t spoken. “It may not work out. But, Delilah, I still have feelings for you. I think you still have feelings for me. Let’s see where this goes.”

  “Are you serious?” It was the only thing she could think to say. The only thing that would come out. She gripped the cup in her hand, her fingers tightening around the paper.

  “Completely serious.”

  She wanted to say yes. She did. She wanted to see if they still had that magic when they were together. If the ember was still waiting to be stoked into a fire. She knew from their sex the previous night there was something there and it terrified her. She couldn’t let him hurt her again. She had to keep her heart guarded. Erect walls that couldn’t be torn down without a battering ram.

  “I don’t know, Sam.”

  “I know we parted on less than friendly ground,” he said. “And I want to make that up to you now. I want you to see how I’ve changed. How things could be with us.”

  He took a step toward her, as though he were going to reach for her. She flinched and took a step back.

  “I know you’re hesitant,” he said.

  “You’re damn right I am. I have every right to be. You ripped out my heart, Sam. You nearly destroyed me.” It was an admission she never thought she’d make, least of all to him.

  Pain flashed across his face as though she’d stabbed him in the heart. That’s what he’d done to her. Didn’t he deserve a little payback? “It kills me to hear you say that.”

  “As it should,” she said.

  “I’m truly sorry about it. Give me a chance.”

  “And if I agree, then what?”

  “Then we see where this goes.”

  She considered it. “No strings?”

  “Nope.”

  And then she had an idea. She knew what she wanted from him, what she wanted him to do. “Then I want romance.”

  “Romance? Like wine, chocolate and flowers?”

  “Like wooing me. Like courting me. Like old-fashioned romance. You want me then you’re going to have to work for me.”

  “I don’t do old-fashioned romance.” He took another step toward her, a grin on his face. A grin that told her he was willing to take it one step further. “How about a compromise?”

  Her heart skipped. “What sort of compromise?”

  “No sex.”

  She lifted a brow. “None?”

  “At least, not right away. I’m going to break that hard exterior shell of yours.” His gaze raked down her body.

  She laughed. He knew her so well it scared her. “And how do you intend to do that?”

  “I intend to seduce you. No fucking against the refrigerator. I want to tempt you. Tease you. Taunt you. I’ll have you begging for me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Her mouth went dry and all her senses were on edge. The spark of mischief in his blue eyes made her curious which quickly turned into eagerness. She wanted to see how he intended to pull off this so-called seduction. “Is that a challenge?”

  “It is if you want it to be.”

  Without hesitation, she said, “Oh, I want it to be.”

  “Good. We’ll start tomorrow with dinner. I’ll pick you up at six. Until then…” He grasped her hand, lifted it to his lips. “Adieu, mon amie.”

  For a brief moment she thought he was going to kiss the back of her hand. All she felt was his heated breath whispering over her skin.

  He left her standing there, dumbstruck with wonder, excitement and definitely aroused. That was definitely going to give her something to think about.

  She couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

  * * *

  Delilah was on edge all day. She rushed through her day, running errands with Marion. When she commented how on edge she was, Delilah pretended she was merely excited for the upcoming wedding. Which Marion knew was a load of crap.

  All she could think about was Sam and preparing for her dinner date with him. What would they talk about? Did they have anything in common anymore? Would they even get along outside the bedroom?

  It was shortly after five when she made it home, stripped and showered. She shaved her legs, plucked her eyebrows and even did some personal grooming in her private area. On the off chance things got heated. Even though he said he intended to seduce her.

  She wondered again how that would work.

  Delilah chose a white skirt that fell to below the knee, a white shirt and low-heeled sandals. She wasn’t sure where Sam intended to take her so she wanted to be prepared for anything.

  At six sharp, the doorbell rang.

  Sam stood on the other side dressed in jeans, lace-up boots, crisp white shirt holding a purple dahlia.

  “Good evening, my lady.” He handed her the flower.

  Her knees threatened to buckle. To keep from swooning, she quipped, “You’re not going to start quoting Shakespeare, are you?”

  “Not unless you want me to.” His wolf grin was nearly her undoing.

  “Let me put this in water and then we can go.”

  She trotted to the kitchen, found a small vase she filled with water and slipped in the dahlia. It was pretty and unusual. But then Sam was unusual. When she turned around, he stood so close to her she nearly jumped.

  “You look ravishing,” he said.

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “I think the correct response is ‘thank you.’ Is it so hard to accept a compliment?”

  “Sometimes,” she admitted.

  He motioned toward the door. “Ready?”

  Nodding, she followed him out only a little disappointed he hadn’t kissed her or tried anything. But then he had said he was going to seduced her. The first step was the flower. It worked.

  He opened the car door for her and she slid into the leather seat. She was impressed he was no longer driving a junker. Maybe he really had changed and grown up. He started the car and they headed off.

  As they drove away, she realized she had allowed him to pick her up. She never did that especially on a first date. Now she was at his mercy. She’d broken her own dating rule. She mentally smacked her forehead.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “Nervous?”

  “No. Should I be?”

  “I am,” he admitted.

  “Why?”

  “It’s our first date.”

  She snickered. “Not really.”

  “No, really. I’m pretending like we don’t even know each other. So what do you do for a living?”

  She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up her
throat. “Oh, Sam.”

  “Play a long, will ya?” He flashed a scowl. He was serious.

  “I’m in advertising. Public relations.”

  “Is that interesting?”

  “Sometimes. What about you?” she asked.

  “I own an adult toy store.”

  Delilah flushed. Even though she knew it, she couldn’t stop the heat from sizzling through her veins. “Sounds like fun.”

  He cut her a glance. “Oh, it is. I get a lot of perks.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Do you?”

  “Uh huh. I get the merchandise at cost.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d give a girl a discount?” She fluttered her lashes.

  “Only if she sweet talks me.”

  “I’m sure she can,” she purred.

  He pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. She glanced up at the restaurant and icy pinpricks went over her. Was it cold fear? Anticipation? Excitement? Maybe a little of all three. Mama’s Pizza wasn’t a fancy joint but it was the first place she and Sam had ever had a real date. It was a cool October night nearly twelve years ago. It was a night that had changed the course of her life.

  “Sam, I—”

  “Surprised?” He leaned toward her, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “No reservations required.” He grinned and winked. “Stay put for a minute.”

  Before she could reply, he bounded out the door, walked around the front and opened hers with a flourish. He might be taking the chivalry thing a step too far. Still it was awfully sweet of him to open doors for her.

  He took her hand and led her into the place. It was the same as she remembered with the red pleather booth seats, the scarred wooden tables, the low lighting. The smell of pizza and pasta and garlic in the air. There used to be an old table Pac Man game on one side but it was long gone. Now a giant fake palm tree stood in its place.

  The hostess gave them a welcoming smile. She was dressed in all black save for the plastic white name tag pinned to her shirt boasting her name as Jenny.

  “Hi. Two?”

  “Yes. A booth in the corner, please,” Sam said.

  She grabbed two menus and led them through the half-empty restaurant. Delilah’s heart beat a wicked tattoo all the way to the table. They sat across from each other as the hostess placed the menus on the table in front of them.

  “Your server will be right with you. Enjoy.”

  Sam waited for her to walk away before he spoke. “The last time we came here you had a soda and pepperoni pizza. You wore a pink dress.”

  How did he remember that? Maybe she didn’t give him enough credit. “Yes. And you wore blue and had lasagna.”

  “I’m impressed you remembered.”

  Why wouldn’t she? Sam was the love of her life. The one who had made life worth living. Until she realized he was an irresponsible jerk who cared more about cigarettes than her.

  But she wasn’t going to let herself think about that tonight. She was going to enjoy the moment. She was going to allow him to woo her and, like him, pretend they didn’t know each other.

  The waitress arrived to take their drink order. Delilah ordered a vodka martini. Sam ordered a Sprite. When she gave him a curious look he shrugged.

  “I don’t drink.”

  “You used to.” She distinctly remembered his favorite was bourbon.

  “I have a confession to make,” he said and paused to gauge her reaction. She waited while he fiddled with his napkin. “I’m an alcoholic.”

  “Oh,” she breathed. “I didn’t know.”

  “After we split, I got clean. Stopped smoking. Stopped drinking.”

  Guilt shot through her. She shouldn’t have ordered a martini. “That must have been hard.”

  “It was.”

  Their gazes met as their drinks arrived.

  “On second thought,” she told the waitress, “I’d rather have a sweet tea.”

  “No martini?” the waitress asked.

  “Don’t do that on my account,” he said. The waitress held the martini glass in mid-air, looking between the two of them with question on her face. He reached for the glass. “She’ll have the martini.”

  “Are you sure?” Delilah asked.

  “Yes.” Then to the waitress, “She’ll have it.”

  “Are you ready to order then?” she asked.

  They placed their order—deciding to share a pizza.

  Delilah was impressed he managed to clean up his act. She knew getting sober and staying sober couldn’t be easy. They had comfortable conversation as the evening progressed, their pizza arrived, and they laughed over things they’d done in the past. Her martini went down smooth, leaving behind a glowing warm feeling. Or maybe that was just the company.

  After the plates were cleared and she had her second drink of the evening in hand, silence stretched between them. She could see his mind at work, knew he was drumming up some mischief.

  “What?” she asked. “You keep looking at me like that.”

  A corner of his mouth lifted. He sipped his drink and then leaned toward her, his forearms on the table. “What are you wearing under that skirt?”

  “That’s none of your business. You said you were going to seduce me.”

  “I did. I am. This is part of the seduction. What are you wearing?”

  Her fingertips slid down the stem of the martini glass, the smooth glass cool against her skin. “Panties.”

  “Brief or thong?”

  Damn him. She’d gone for comfort instead of sexy tonight. Arousal hit her hard, making her clit throb and warm wet heat spread. “Brief.”

  “Lace or cotton?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Cotton.”

  “Color?”

  She pressed toward him and dropped her voice to a sultry whisper. “Nude.”

  “Perfect.”

  Sam glanced to the side and she watched him scan the restaurant. It was late for a Saturday night and the place was practically empty except for one middle-aged couple on the far side of the room. He met her gaze.

  “Take them off.”

  “What?” She gaped at him. Was he out of his mind? “No.”

  “Yes. Take them off, Delilah, and give them to me.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “I told you I was going to seduce you. That’s what I’m doing.”

  He had said that. That he was going taunt, tease, tempt her. She knew without a doubt she would be powerless to resist.

  Silence stretched between them. “And then what are you going to do?”

  “I won’t lay a finger on you.” His gaze dipped downward, as though he could see her crotch through the table. He gave her that wolf grin again.

  Delilah’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. The slick heat between her legs burned hot with her hesitation.

  “You’re still my wild girl, aren’t you?” He dropped his voice to a sultry whisper.

  Another challenge. She could never resist a challenge. He knew it, too. That’s why he preyed on that. “All right. I’ll do it.”

  She toed off her left shoe and propped her foot on the booth seat next to him.

  “Describe what you’re doing.” His tone was a quiet demand.

  “Pulling up my skirt. My fingertips are trailing up my thigh.”

  His eyes darkened with desire. “Go on.”

  She flattened her hand over the apex of her thighs. Heat flashed over her skin. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to do this. “I’m running my fingertip along the edge of my panties.”

  “Where?”

  “Inner thigh.”

  “More.” His voice had dropped into a sexy purr as he leaned toward her.

  “I’m sliding my hand into the waistband, over the perfectly trimmed hair.”

  “Mm,” was his response, a deep rumble in his throat. “You always did keep it nice and trim.”

  “Still do.”

 
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in this throat. “And what else are you doing?”

  She squeezed her butt cheeks together and lifted her hips. She couldn’t resist sliding her index finger between her female lips and touching the dampness there. Despite her control, a little mewl escaped her.

  “You touched yourself, didn’t you?”

  She bit her lip. Nodded.

  “Tell me,” he groaned.

  “Warm. Wet. For you.”

  He gripped the edge of the table. His fingernails leeched of color. “Still soft, too, I bet.”

  “Uh huh. Now two fingers.”

  She heard him groan as she slid them between her wet slit. She kept her eyes pinned on his face, watching as his normally blue eyes stained with color. Deepen with his yearning desire, his need, his want. Oh, yes. He wanted her. His cock was probably hard as a rock.

  That glorious, perfect, amazing cock.

  “Take them off now,” he grit between clenched teeth.

  She didn’t want to tease him further. It was just mean. Still holding her hips up, she wiggled the panties down her thighs to her knees. She dropped her leg then let them slide down on their own to her ankles. She reached under the table and grabbed the cotton, wadding it into a ball in her fist.

  Instead of handing them to him across the table, she pitched them. They unfurled in mid-air and landed in his lap. And as they landed, the waitress returned with the check. It was clear by the look of first surprise, then distaste she’d seen her underwear fly across the table. Delilah flushed so hot she thought her cheeks might be on fire.

  “I’ll take care of that when you’re ready,” she said and then hurried away from the table.

  But it hadn’t fazed Sam. He plopped his open hand on the table and wiggled his fingers. She gripped his hand.

  He pulled it to his mouth…and licked her fingers. His mouth was hot and damp sending a throbbing pain right to the place she’d touched only moments before. Her body craved more, wanted that slick wet tongue on her clit, licking her, sucking her, tasting her. Her breath shuddered out of her as he released her hand.

  “You still taste sweet.” He cocked that grin at her again. “Just like I remember.”

  She nearly came undone.

  And then he shifted to reach for his wallet. She watched him dump several bills on the table and then scooted to the edge of the booth. He crammed the wad of cotton into his front jeans pocket.