"That's one I haven't seen either, but the reviews are terrific. Looks like we just found our next date night." He winks at me and draws another card.
Which, of course, I answer incorrectly. Again. And I have to strip. I choose my shoes—first, because my feet hurt, and second because I want to tease him before taking off anything too revealing. I quickly learn after a few more turns that while I don't suck at guessing things about him that are simple, I still can't remember more than fleeting glimpses of that night. I also learn that the purple cards will mean one of us has to take off some clothes.
I'm hoping I guess a few more questions correctly as I watch him strip his shirt off, his muscles ripped and oh-so-sexy. I guessed his favorite food—Italian. And for that I get a nice view of the abs. I feel very lucky right now.
My luck does not last though, and it isn't long before I find myself wearing only the lingerie he had delivered to me. I don't feign embarrassment; instead I sip at the champagne, my fourth glass, and bite into a piece of dark chocolate, nearly moaning with the pleasure at the bittersweet flavor.
"I like watching you eat," he says. "You make love to food with your mouth. Though I admit to being jealous. I'd like that mouth on me."
Before he can distract me with another kiss, I grab a card from the deck. The question makes me pause. "What's my greatest fear?"
I hold my breath wondering how well he really knows me. Not just the trivia, but also the real me.
"The night we met, you told me it was ants. Which I find amusing, I must admit."
I'm about to tell him he's wrong, with some outward gloat, but an inward sadness. Sometimes we all want to be seen. Truly seen, you know?
But before I can talk, he reaches for my hand. "I don't think that's true, though," he says softly. "I think your greatest fear is becoming invisible. Losing yourself, your life, to someone else's dreams or plans. I think your greatest fear is not fully realizing every potential you carry inside of yourself."
My breathing stops, and my eyes fill with unwanted tears. I curse them. And him. And everything.
He leans toward me. "I see you, Kacie Michaels. And I don't want to change you. I want to love you as the amazing woman you already are, and I want to witness what else you accomplish with all that spirit you have. I want to be a part of that, not thwart it."
The game is forgotten then. As is the food, and the whipped cream. I thought we would fuck tonight. I thought we would get naughty and eat things off each other's body and do all manner of illicit and erotic things to each other.
But what is happening now is more than that. It's more than fucking as he stares into my eyes and slowly peels off what's left of my clothes.
It's more than sex as he lowers his powerful body over mine.
It's more than mutual pleasure as he pushes his cock into me.
As we become one.
As our flesh joins together, our hearts locked in the same rhythm, breathing each other's breath.
As we make love for the first time.
Chapter 20
Weekend Plans
For the next few weeks, Sebastian and I spend nearly every night together. As I slink into the house one morning after a particularly late night talking, laughing, watching our favorite movies, making love… Tate corners me in the kitchen as I add sugar to my coffee.
"The prodigal sister returns, and not in the clothes you were wearing last night. Did the good doctor give you a drawer?" he asks, looking around for my bags.
"Yes, actually. And a key to his house." Which I'd been reluctant to accept, but it made the most sense, since he lives alone and we spend most of our time at his house.
Tate pulls himself up and sits on the counter, watching me wipe up spilled sugar. "It's getting serious." He doesn't say it as a question, but as a statement. And with his grown-up voice, as if to emphasize the actual seriousness of the situation.
"It's a summer fling. What have you been up to?"
"Nope, that's not going to work this time. This isn't a fling, and you know it, and you need to be honest with this guy if you're really planning on breaking his heart at the end of the summer. He doesn't deserve that."
I push down a flare of anger at being lectured by my womanizing brother on how to treat people in a romantic relationship. "Says the guy who doesn't bother calling a girl the next day. Look, Sebastian knows how I feel. Why does everything have to be defined and decided on now? Can't we just enjoy getting to know each other without all the pressure? I'm sick of it."
I'm about to stalk out of the kitchen, when Tate hops off the counter and stops me. "You're right; I'm sorry. I'm not in a position to judge anyone. I just don't want you to get hurt."
I soften my scowl. "I'm fine."
I walk to my desk and flip through the messages Tate left. There's one that catches my eye. "Mom called again?"
"Yeah. I didn't want to bother you, but apparently our beloved grandmother is getting worse. Mom insists we come visit."
I raise an eyebrow. "Insists? And she'll do what if we don't?"