Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I nodded. “I do. I think most people have baggage.”
He furrowed his brow, confused.
“Baggage means issues from past relationships,” I explained.
“Ah.” He put his hands on the wheel and started driving. “Well, my baggage is moving to Uzbekistan.”
“Really?”
He nodded, looking relieved. “I hope she will do well, but I can’t have her in my life anymore.”
“Totally off topic, but I love your accent. You make the word ‘Uzbekistan’ sound sexy.”
He grinned. “You want to hear some Russian dirty talk tonight?”
God, yes. The way he looked in that leather jacket, he could have pulled over and had me in the back seat right now, but I didn’t let on.
“Maybe,” I said coyly. “Let’s see how the night goes.”
He laughed, putting his hand on my thigh. “You are wet inside those sexy pants, and we both know it.”
“I might be. And what about you? Are you feeling anything?”
He scoffed. “I have a third leg, but I plan to behave myself until later.”
“You don’t mind if I talk about it, though? Like if I told you I fantasized in the shower about riding you, that would be fine?”
He squeezed my thigh and groaned. “Absolutely fine. Wind me as tightly as you want, but just know that you may be sore tomorrow.”
“I don’t mind. I hope you don’t just mean my pussy, though. I like it when you play rough with my nipples, too, and”
“Okay, no more,” he said, cutting me off. “I won’t make it all the way home if you don’t stop.”
I laughed lightly. “You said you liked it.”
“I fucking love it, but wait until we finish dinner. Unless you want to get fucked up against a bathroom wall at this restaurant.”
I considered the idea. “If I had a skirt on, I’d be in. That won’t work with these pants, though.”
The restaurant we went to was a renovated nightclub with tall ceilings and two levels. Techno music was playing low and there were colored light beams dancing on the walls.
“This place is weird,” Kon declared when we sat down at our table.
“It’s…unique,” I agreed.
Our server told us the restaurant didn’t have menus and that the chef would send out our meal one course at a time. I ordered a glass of wine and Kon ordered a beer as he eye-fucked my cleavage during our short wait for the first course.
“A cabbage dumpling?” Kon asked after the server had explained the tiny bundle in the middle of each plate.
“With a chile verde sauce,” the server said proudly. “Enjoy.”
Once we were alone, Kon met my gaze across the table.
“This is one bite of food,” he said.
“Let’s hope it’s a good bite.”
“I am starving.” He shook his head and raised his hand to get our server’s attention.
“Sir?” the server asked when she returned.
“Can I just get a hamburger?” Kon asked. “Or a pizza?”
The server knitted her brows together, her expression stunned.
“Um, there’s braised beef in one of your other courses,” she said. “We don’t have menus; all we serve is the chef’s selections.”
He just looked at her for a couple of seconds, until I ended the moment that was quickly becoming awkward.
“Thanks, we’ll just eat our dumplings.”
The rest of the meal was similar; the server brought us a single bite of food on a plate and while most of the bites tasted good, by the time we ate our eighth bite—panna cotta—we were still hungry.
“Three hundred dollars for sixteen bites of food,” Kon grumbled as he signed the check. “I’m sorry, Lucy. This wasn’t what I expected.”
“Want to get some takeout on the way to your place?” I asked.
“Very much. And as soon as we get home, I plan to get you out of those clothes.”
I smiled, desire swirling in my belly. “I plan to let you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kon
We picked up Chinese on the way home, and Lucy and I shared an egg roll during the drive. The restaurant had been upscale and classy, but definitely not a place for two people who liked to eat. And apparently the two of us did.
“Still hungry?” I asked, putting the bags of food down once we were inside.
“Mm-hmm.” She tugged the lapels of my sport coat. “But food can wait.”
“What would you like to do instead?” I asked, pretending not to know what she was talking about.
“I’d like to get up close and personal with your tats,” she murmured, working on the buttons of my dress shirt.
I smirked. “And I want to get up close and personal with your tits.”
She squealed as I tossed her over my shoulder and carried her to the bedroom. I dumped her on the bed before shrugging out of my jacket and throwing my belt to the side. I watched as she pulled off the sexy red blouse she’d been wearing that had given me a fantastic view of her tits all night. I was almost sorry to see it come off, except having access to her breasts would be better than simply imagining them beneath the silky fabric.