Lindsey’s Wolves(9)

Absurd. She shook the thoughts from her mind as the first plates of food arrived.

Begrudgingly, she let go of Alejandro’s hands and sat back to make room. Another sip of wine proved he was indeed correct. It was growing on her. Or maybe it just tasted better and better the more she drank. That reality was more likely.

“Okay, try this first.” Alejandro stuck his fork into a piece of steaming meat and potatoes, getting the perfect bite organized on the utensil before he held it to her lips.

Sheer delight exploded on her tongue. The tender pork literally melted in her mouth, the mix of garlic, olive oil, and spices combining to send an actual moan escaping from her. “Man, that is good. What did you call it?”

“Solomillo al ajillo. It’s a garlic pork dish.” He smiled and stuck the fork into the tiny plate before offering her another bite. “It’s a favorite among Spaniards.”

“Are you going to sit there and feed me all night or try some yourself?” she mumbled after the second bite, hoping there was no meat stuck between her teeth. “You’ll need to actually taste the dishes to find out if they are authentic. My word truly won’t suffice in this case.”

He smiled again, and his lips made her gaze desirously in their direction, remembering their soft texture from last night, a perfect combination of gentle and demanding that had kept her sex dripping all evening after parting company. And Lindsey was not accustomed to being so aroused.

He must have been thinking the same thing, or perhaps she just willed him toward a repeat performance because as she stared at his smile, he slowly leaned forward until they were once again locked in a kiss. It was a slow perusal, with him nibbling around her mouth for several moments before pulling back.

“You’re right. The solomillo is excellent. I’ll try some myself.”

Leaving her in a state of lust, he took his own bite next and nodded his agreement while he chewed. “Perfect. My hat to the chef. I believe we have a winner,” he stated after swallowing.

“I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find this tiny restaurant in the middle of Washington a bit lacking.”

“Nah, the company is so alluring that I doubt I would have noticed if they served us cardboard.”

“I don’t believe that. You should be a food critic with your passion.”

“Don’t believe it until you’ve been to Spain yourself. All of us are this way in my world. Food snobs I tell you. And passionate about our meals. Which we don’t miss. Our world centers around when and where we will eat, sparing no expense.”

“I believe you.” She smiled at his expression of pure delight over the next bite he took. She still hadn’t picked up a fork.

And as it turned out, she didn’t need to yet.

“Oh, the papas are just as good.” He shoveled a bite of what looked like potato salad with carrots and peas into her mouth. It had looked ordinary enough, but he was right. It wasn’t American potato salad. A hint of garlic and probably more olive oil tempted her pallet.

“Mmm,” she moaned around that bite too, and then again when he presented her with a crispy bite of calamari that rivaled any she’d ever eaten. She’d never been particularly fond of the visual, with the tiny tentacles fried up in front of her, but somehow this evening was turning out to be an experience in culinary delights unlike any she’d had before.

The last tapa looked like an ordinary omelet, but again, filled with onions and potatoes, was a divine twist on the American version. “This is what we call tortilla in Spain. Often referred to as Tortilla Española so as not to be confused with those flat floury disks in México.” His nose raised in mock snobbery that wasn’t altogether a joke.

Lindsey grabbed her fork and joined the fun. They continued in this fashion for another two hours, feeding each other bites of the various tapas Alejandro continued ordering until Lindsey thought she’d pop. Her dress wasn’t going to be near as attractive when she stood up as it had been when they’d arrived, with her stomach filled to bulging.

And all along, the experience was so sensual, as though they were actually making love, with each other or the food itself she wasn’t sure. And didn’t frankly care. It was the best date of her life.

And if she could somehow manage to not jump into bed with him and ruin her reputation as the nice girl, perhaps he’d even ask her out again.





Chapter 2





Two hours later, Alejandro finally pulled his satisfied woman to her feet and directed her toward the door.

The restaurant had been beyond his expectations. The mariachi band spectacular, the cuisine as authentic as any place in Spain, and the wine, well, he’d had enough of their shared bottle that he could no longer be considered a good judge of its character.