Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“I saved a little room. Where are we going?”
At that moment the car stops, and I open the door for her. When I step out and take her hand, I don’t let it go as we turn to face the building. “Here.”
“Um, it looks like it’s closed.” She glances up and down the street as I step forward with her beside me.
As if on cue, the door opens, and we are led inside the empty restaurant and to the back room with a single table inside. I hold her chair out for her and then take my seat. She looks around, taking in the room before she looks at me with wide eyes.
“Okay, what is this place?”
“It’s an invitation-only experience.” I smile as now she looks even more confused. “Tonight we have dessert, but it comes in seven courses.”
“Seven!” she shouts then lowers her voice to a whisper. “Seven?”
“I wanted to make the most of my time with you, little Pumpkin.”
The server enters the room just as I see the blush blossom on her cheek. I have no doubt I’m going to enjoy every moment of my night with her.
Chapter Nine
PUMPKIN
I open my mouth as Miller feeds me another bite of crème brûlée. I had no idea eating dessert could be so exotic, but it is. Or maybe it’s Miller who makes it that way. I’m noticing a lot of things about him are making me see things differently. I look at him in a way I’ve never looked at another man before. I pay attention to everything he does, and it’s partly because I can’t keep my eyes off him.
“You gave me the last bite of the crème brûlée. You must truly be falling in love with me,” I tease, because that was the best dessert I’ve ever had. He doesn't respond to my joke, and his face is impassive. “I was teasing,” I rush to say.
Who brings up love on the first date? This girl. Maybe this could technically be our second if our time together on the plane counts.
“Sigmund Freud said ‘a joke is truth wrapped in a smile.’” He smiles as he leans in. “I didn’t take it as a joke.”
A rush of emotion fills my chest. Is he saying he’s falling in love with me? How is that even possible? We don’t even know each other, and I did only say falling in love. I mean, I can understand that because I think I am falling myself.
I’m drawn to his mouth when he licks his lips, and I want him to kiss me again. He says something in Russian that I don’t understand before he lifts me out of my seat and onto his lap. I wrap myself around him as he kisses me so possessively, and I follow his lead. Then it’s me that’s climbing up his body and deepening the kiss. I want more of him, and the moment my lips touch his, it’s like a magnet.
He tastes better than any dessert I’ve ever had. I’ve gone from thinking I couldn't have another bite to wanting to consume Miller. He releases my mouth, and I go for his neck, unable to stop. I nip at his ear, and he grunts while he grips me tighter. I can feel the heat of his excitement against my ass, and I wiggle against it. Without a word he’s out of the chair and moving. Suddenly he puts me down on the edge of an empty table and my legs spread as he pushes his way between them. They’re as wide as they can go to accommodate him, and it’s still not enough.
Seeing my lipstick smeared on his lips and neck only fuels my desire. I need more.
“I cannot control myself when you touch me.” He plays with the tie that holds my wrap dress together. “I want to see what secrets you hide from me under this.” He gently tugs on the tie, and it comes loose, but not enough to make the dress come apart. As much as he wants to, he waits for my permission.
“Why don’t you find out?” I say in my best sultry voice before I bite the inside of my lip. This date tonight is moving fast, but I’m not ready to slow it down. My underwear is more about comfort than anything, but I try not to let it bother me as I lean back on my elbow. “I don’t think it’s going to be what you’re thinking.” I let out a small laugh, but as he peels my dress apart, all I can see is a primal flare in his eyes.
“Never, my krasota.” He runs his eyes over my simple cotton bra and panties. Again he’s speaking Russian, but from the look in his eyes I know he enjoys what he sees.