“Is this the one that loves Legos?”
“Yeah, you remember that?” she said.
“And he has to play with like the big fat blocks instead because it’s a choking hazard otherwise. Yeah, I listen,” I grinned, “So what if we got some of those big magnet triangle blocks?”
“The tiny magnets imbedded in them are a choking hazard and they can cause intestinal damage,” she said.
“Wow. You know a lot about how dangerous everything is.”
“Yes. Part of the job, but it’s sweet that you thought of it.”
“Tinker toys? I loved those as a kid, we used to check them out of the library. No small pieces.”
“Aren’t they wood? Splinters.”
“I’m sure we can find plastic ones,” I assured her. “Leave it to me. I think if your daycare received a donation of some Tinker toys, his behavior might improve. Especially if he has to earn the right to play with them.”
“You’re kind of an evil genius, Company Man,” she smiled.
She kissed my cheek. It was a terrific feeling, one I hadn’t had in ages. Because I had just come up with a constructive way to solve a problem instead of just doing inspections and shutting places down. I liked her affection and her gratitude, but I also liked taking an interest in her kids and their problems.
“Anything deeper and darker?” I ventured.
“Okay, I’ve only slept with one guy.”
I tried not to look taken aback. I couldn’t fathom why a woman so beautiful would have only had one partner. “Oh,” was all I could say.
She looked away for a brief moment before turning her gaze back to me. “Not exactly worldly, am I?” she joked.
“You’re perfect,” I replied.
“I’ve only slept with one guy.”
I leaned forward and kissed the place just where her neck met her shoulder. I felt the ripple of tension shudder through her, felt the answering sizzle of arousal in my own body. Just touching her, tasting her skin was like a drug to me. My mouth slid to her collarbone, her hand in my hair. My hand grazed her breast, that tight nipple hard against the brush of my hungry fingers. I lifted my head, cleared my throat.
She was trembling. I had made her tremble, and it felt so good to know I could make her feel that way. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.
“I think our food is here,” she said, scooting a little away from me in the booth and indicating the flashing light over the dumbwaiter. “Also that smile makes you look arrogant.”
“What man wouldn’t be arrogant if he could make you tremble?” I said, my voice sounding huskier than it should.
I expected her to laugh, but she looked at me dead in the eyes and said, “You’re the only man who ever has.”
I felt that down to my bones. I gritted my teeth just to steel myself to go get our food. I hated our food and the entire restaurant right then, because I wanted to lay her back in that plush velvet booth and bury my face between her legs until she was crying out in ecstasy, her legs jerking around over my shoulders with her orgasm. I carried the tray from the dumbwaiter with all the grace of a rhino in a hurry. I thunked it down on the table, making the candle flames shiver with the impact. She laughed.
“Maybe don’t quit your day job to become a waiter,” she said as she took the bowls of steaming lobster bisque from beneath the silver domed lid.
“It wasn’t my ambition anyway.”
“And what’s your ambition?” she asked, just a hint of naughtiness in her voice.
“I don’t think you want me to answer that. I think you want to eat your soup in silence,” I said, my teeth still gritted. She laughed airily.
“Something funny?” I asked, my voice dangerous as I trailed the backs of my fingers up her arm. She jerked at my touch like she’d grabbed a live wire.
“It just makes me so happy that it’s hard for you, too,” she said. “That I’m sitting here nervous as a cat because I’m half-afraid I’ll launch myself into your lap and you’re having as hard of a time with it as I am.”
I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear, “Oh it’s definitely hard. I want to taste you right now, and when I shut my eyes to try and sleep all I imagine is being between your thighs.”
She gave the softest moan, like agony, and then I saw her bite down hard on her full lower lip.
“Did that make you wet? Did it make you want me more?” I said shamelessly against her ear, barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” she said, nodding almost frantically. “I feel like I’ve gone crazy. I can’t think when I’m around you. All I do is feel and want and then you say something like that—you’re going to push me over the edge. I don’t want to do something I’ll regret. I’m shaking, Jeremiah.”