I glanced at my watch. A minute to seven. I knew she would be right on time. My men wouldn’t have allowed anything short of that. When I looked up Mateo was escorting her over to my table.
She was wearing scarlet lipstick and wrapped up in a long jet-black coat that made her hair shine like gold. I stood and offered to help her out of her coat. For a moment she hesitated, her hands clenching the soft wool. Then she let go of the material and turned around so I could help her out of it and hand it to Mateo. He would keep it with him in the next enclosure. She turned around to face me.
And my breathing quickened.
To all intents and purposes she was covered up with long sleeves and a high neckline that delicately encircled her neck, but that was as far as the illusion of decency went. The entire thing was made of lace and thus bits of her skin and sometimes whole sections of her were very clearly visible through the fabric.
I was quite certain she was naked underneath because I could see the full swell of her breasts, and the only part hidden with thicker lace designs was the areas surrounding nipples and her crotch. My eyes skimmed over the skin of her hips that was exposed through the little holes in the patterns of the lace.
And I was instantly hard.
“Good evening,” she greeted as she took her seat without quite meeting my eyes. Her hair was pulled away from her face with a thin, glistening diamond headband. On her ears were simple stone studs.
I lost my appetite for food and was ravenous for something else.
Ideas about stopping the service and taking care of my hunger began to swirl in my head. All I needed was twenty minutes. And then I stopped myself. What was this attraction that made me behave like a hormone ridden teen? I had come across women whom had been more naked than she was, but I had never felt like fucking them on the restaurant table.
I had been this way since the first time I laid eyes on her. I had attributed it to curiosity then, but I’d fucked her long and hard and yet my hunger showed no signs of waning. If anything the need was becoming worse. To distract myself, I picked up my glass of Dirty Martini and emptied it.
The sommelier arrived together with a waiter. With a great sense of theater, they opened a bottle of Dom and poured it into the two flutes. Then withdrew and closed the glass doors.
When I lifted my gaze to Skye’s I found her watching me. The candle light cast a beautiful golden glow on her skin. She was absolutely breathtaking.
I raised my glass. “To your flowers.”
She smiled and raised her glass. “It might not be flowers. It might be vegetables.”
My gaze went to her lips.
I took a sip and watched the muscles in her white throat move as she swallowed. She caught my eyes and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. God, how I wanted to fuck her. I picked up my menu without a word, and she did the same.
I didn’t actually need to study the menu at all. I was well acquainted with it, but I needed those few seconds to get myself in order. The lust for her was incredible. After a little while, I set it down and she followed soon after. I pressed the call button and pretty soon there was a light tap on the glass.
“Come in,” I responded and the waiter slid the glass door open.
He smiled. “You are ready to order?”
I nodded and made a gesture for him to take Skye’s order first. He turned to her attentively.
“I’ll have the—” she began, her eyes still on the menu.
But the waiter suddenly exclaimed, “Skye? Skye Morrison?”
Her head jerked up. “Oh, my God, James,” she cried as she rose to her feet. She threw her arms around him, and he hugged her back just as tightly. She pulled away slightly, but still within the confines of his arms. “It’s so great to see you. It’s been years.”
“About four now, right?”
“Yeah,” she replied and the soft expression on her face as she stared up at him stunned me. It was full of deep affection. I’d never seen such an expression on her face. Seeing her stare at him in this way had a strange effect on me. My chest burned with irritation.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m alright. But you, Jesus. You look—”
“We need to catch up,” she said quickly, and as if only then remembering me, threw a glance at me. She saw the look in my eyes and took a step back from him, but of course, the moron was totally oblivious.