At exactly seven-thirty, I walked into the bustling Thai restaurant. The hostess led me to a private table in the back, a low booth with cushy pillows for seats and romantic candles. I flushed as I saw James standing there, smirking at me.
“You look beautiful,” James said. He leaned in and kissed my cheek. As the musky scent of his aftershave washed over me, I shivered with pleasure.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said.
James grinned. “Good,” he said. “Because I was sure you’d take one look and go running for the hills.”
I lowered myself down into the cushions and crossed my legs at the ankle. James sat opposite from me, his dark eyes locked on mine. The dim candlelight made his face look even sexier, and I couldn’t stop staring at the sculpted hollows and planes of his cheekbones.
“So,” James said, leaning across the table and raising an eyebrow at me. “I can’t believe you agreed to come out with me. I thought I was really going to have to twist your arm.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hardly,” I said. “Like any woman wouldn’t want to go out with you.”
“Well, you didn’t,” James said archly. He leaned back and smirked. “In fact, for a while, I thought you didn’t like me at all.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I replied. “But you know I couldn’t have said yes. I was your secretary!”
James shrugged. “Trust me,” he said. “That’s never stopped women before.” He cleared his throat. “That’s why I like you, Hanna.”
I frowned. “Why, because I was your secretary?”
James snickered. “No,” he said. “Because you value yourself, and your independence.”
I flushed. “Thanks,” I said softly.
“It’s true,” James said. “There aren’t many women like you in Boston.”
“No one ever really likes that about me,” I said. “I mean, if anything, it seems to annoy people. Danielle’s always frustrated with me, she says I’m boring because I don’t take risks.”
That was when I felt James’s hand on my thigh under the table.
“I disagree,” James said. “Just because you don’t act in a way that most people would consider risky doesn’t make you boring. In fact, I think quite the opposite.”
His hand moved higher and higher and I spread my legs, biting my lip so I wouldn’t moan as the tips of James’s fingers stroked my bare inner thigh.
“Thank you,” I said. My voice was barely above a whisper – it was hard to speak when James’s fingers were so close to my pussy.
James leaned closer. I felt the pad of his thumb stroke the crotch of my panties and I shivered, gripping the edge of the table.
“Hi, there!”
I jumped and looked up to see a smiling waitress.
“Hello,” James said suavely. He didn’t take his hand away from my panties, but his voice was cool and smug. “We’d like a bottle of off-dry Riesling for the table – whatever you think is best. Oh, and an order of chicken satay skewers to start with. Hanna, would you like anything else?”
I flushed hotly. “No,” I said. “I’m fine, thank you.”
The waitress turned and left the table and I glared at James. “I can’t believe you!” I hissed. “You’re so bad!”
James’s thumb stroked over my panties again and I moaned softly.
“I know I’m bad,” James said in a low voice. “I can’t help it when I’m around you, Hanna. You bring it out in me.”
His fingers pulled the crotch of my panties to the side and slipped inside of me, one by one. I shivered and flushed as my thighs began to tremble. My nipples were stiff and hard inside of my lacy bra and every time I moved, they brushed against the fabric and sent delicious thrills of pleasure through my body.
“Do you do this with everyone you date?” I asked, leaning over the table. James and I were so close that we could have kissed, but somehow the few inches of space between us made the situation feel even more erotic. He was so close, yet still out of reach, and I wanted him more badly than ever before. His warm breath on my face, his looming dark eyes…it was all I could do not to lean in and kiss him right then, over the candles.
“No,” James growled. “I don’t. I don’t date much, Hanna.” He pulled his hand away from my crotch and lifted his fingers to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling the musky scent of my arousal.
“I feel special,” I said, missing his touch between my legs. When I crossed my thighs under the table, I realized they were both soaked with my juices. A powerful shiver of lust went crawling down my spine and I clutched the table again, simultaneously craving more of James’s touch and mortified that I’d let a man finger me in public. If only Danielle could see me, I thought with a little smile. She wouldn’t believe it was really me.
“You should,” James said. He raised an eyebrow and locked his gaze with mine, licking the tips of his fingers.
Just then, the waitress appeared. She poured a small taste of Riesling into a glass and handed it to James. He took it in his hand, swirled it gently, and drank.
“What do you think?” The waitress asked. “Is the wine suited to your taste, sir?”
James smirked at me. “It’s delicious,” he said, not taking his eyes off me. “We’ll take it.”
I could hardly breathe as the waitress poured two glasses and left the bottle in a bucket of ice next to the table. Once she left the table, James handed me a glass and clinked it with his.
“To us,” James said. He raised an eyebrow.
I bit my lip. “To us,” I repeated.
We clinked our glasses again, then each took a sip. The delicious, dry wine flowed over my tongue and I felt a pleasant warmth spreading through my chest as I swallowed. Between the wine and our lust that was radiating in waves over the low table, I felt intoxicated. I felt like a completely different person.
I felt like the person I’d been in Jamaica, almost a year before, with James on the beach.
“The way I see it,” James said softly. “We were brought together for something, weren’t we?”
I bit my lip.
“I looked for you for a year,” James continued. His dark, intense gaze captivated me as he spoke. “And then just as soon as I stopped, there you were. Don’t you think that means something?”
I’d had the same thought many times, but I’d never wanted to admit it: I thought it made me sound like a crazy person, the kind of person who believes in astrology and tarot cards.
“I suppose,” I said.
“Come on,” James said. “You can’t tell me you didn’t think about me after that night.”
“Of course, I did,” I said. “I…I thought about you all the time.” I bit my lip. “I couldn’t help it,” I added. “I knew it was crazy, but I couldn’t stop.”
James grinned. He took another long sip of wine. “Good,” he said. “Because I have a feeling we have a lot to catch up on.”
Chapter Eight
Hanna
The rest of the night felt like magic – no, it was magic. As James and I sat across the table from each other, staring into each other’s eyes and sipping wine, I could feel my excitement growing. Something new, something deep was starting inside of me and I knew now that I was powerless to stop it or push it away.