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Vanilla On Top(44)

By:C.J. Ellisson


I shake my head and reach for my menu. “My mind wandered for a minute.”

His sexy and mischievous look returns. A satisfied and indulgent smile blossoms in the dim light. “And where did it wander to, mon amore?” He leans forward and removes the menu from my grasp, taking my smaller hands into his larger ones. “Were you thinking about what you did with that paddle,” his low voice carries only to me, “or what we did after?”

I like this bolder, sexier side of Tony. He let me lead before, but seems perfectly content to switch sides with whatever mood I display. I’m still unsettled by what happened between us—I’ve never connected with another person so intimately.

Heat lights my cheeks again when I think of the noises I made at the end. The entire experience was liberating.

I want to do it again.

Tony’s thumb rubs the back of my hand, encouraging me to answer. “I liked it all.” I look away and then back to him, wondering if I’m revealing too much of myself. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

His eyes bore into mine. “Like I said before, me neither.”

A small snort escapes before I can stop it. “Really? I find that a little hard to believe with all the women you’ve been with.”

“Quantity doesn’t equate to quality.”

Quality. Huh. I’d never thought of relationships like that. He may be on to something. “I think I’ve had some pretty low-quality relationships myself.”

His expression turns more urgent. “Is that what we have, a relationship? Is this the beginning of something…something more?”

My heart beats loudly in my chest, the pounding filling my ears. I’m glad I’m sitting or I might fall. Can I do this? Can I keep pretending to be someone I’m not and enter a relationship with him? Is the new me an act or is it a part of me I’d never let out?

“Is that what you’d like?” I ask, hoping to get more direction out of him before I answer.

He draws my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, like he did when we were alone. “I’d like that very much.”

Our waiter returns with the wine, apologizing for interrupting. Tony releases my hand and I don’t know if I feel relief at Leo’s intrusion or annoyance. This is what I want, isn’t it? I want to go a little further with Tony than sex buddies, right? As the waiter makes a show of pouring and offering the wine, I examine the man across from me.

Strong chin, angled cheekbones, glossy sable-brown hair, and a generous mouth. His wide chest fills his suit, making him almost larger than life at our little table for two. Warmth rushes to my middle, bringing a tingling feeling of goodness to my limbs. Any woman would be a fool not to want a relationship with him.

The waiter leaves and I open my mouth to tell Tony yes, when I hear my name. “Heather? Is that you?”

I turn toward the voice and see Rick, my ex from two years ago. The one who left me on New Year’s Eve for another woman. An unreadable mask slips over Tony’s face as the lanky, polished man approaches.

“Hi, Rick. Yes, it’s me.” A calm I never would have expected at seeing the two-timing jerk settles over me. I smile, secure with the knowledge I’m now with a better man. “How have you been?”

He reaches out to shake my hand and I follow suit, extending my own. To my chagrin, he pulls me out of my chair to hug me. “I’m good.” He lets go quickly, before his actions cross a line past familiar to lascivious.

A welcoming smile spreads from ear to ear when he steps back. “You look terrific.” He tilts his head to the side, examining me. I ignore his overt scrutiny and return to my seat, tossing a helpless, apologetic look at Tony. “Is it the hair? Hmm…I can’t be sure.” Tony clears his throat and Rick finally acknowledges him. “Oh, sorry.” He offers his hand to Tony. “Rick Freeman.”

Tony shakes his hand and replies, “Tony Carmine.”

Recognition at the name sparks in Rick’s expression. A calculating look ensues, and a hopeful gleam comes into his eye. “Do you and Heather work together?”

“No.” His voice sounds almost chilly. “We’re here on a date.”

An unexpected joy fills my heart. Such a simple sentence, yet it makes me feel like I’m his. I’d never date the two-timing jerk again, but Tony doesn’t know that.

“Shoot. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Rick winks at me and takes his leave, wishing us a good night.

Tony shakes his head and stares at his retreating back. “The nerve of some guys.”

“Don’t let him bother you. I’d never date that asshole again for a million dollars.”