Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
We stroll through the dining area and pass the bar where golf stories are swapped, and multi-million-dollar business deals are made. I say hello to a few people I know as we walk by. Gianna sticks to my side, and I can feel her excitement and awe. But her gasp as we enter the outside patio with breathtaking views of the Cumberland River snaking below is everything.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess says, as I pull out Gianna’s chair.
“Was that Kelvin McCoy back there at the bar?” Gianna whispers as I get seated across from her. “The country music star?”
“Yeah.”
“And you know him?”
I shrug. “He probably doesn’t remember my name, but we hung out one night after a concert. A guy I used to play ball with went to high school with him.”
“And I’m in jeans.”
“And he probably checked out your ass as we walked by. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Obviously.”
Her cheeks heat, but her playful smirk overrides it. “I’m glad someone checks out my ass. My boyfriend doesn’t seem to want anything to do with it.”
I sit back and shake my head. If she only knew.
“Actually, do you know what? That’s not fair of me,” she says.
I narrow my eyes, curiosity piqued.
“You’ve been such a gentleman. I was talking to my friend Pearl about this and how we haven’t even kissed, and she helped me change my perception. I mean, I’m still sexually frustrated, but I appreciate your restraint. It’s very sweet of you, and I will endeavor to meet your energy.”
“You will, will you?”
“I’ll make this easier on you. I apologize.”
Why does that sound like a challenge?
“Apology accepted,” I say, playing along. I don’t know where this is going, but it’ll undoubtedly be entertaining.
Our server, Raffi, arrives and takes our drink order. Gianna then excuses herself to go to the ladies’ room.
I sit back and breathe in the cool evening air. Discreetly placed heaters blow warmth across the space. Each table has a fireplace at the center, and many diners have chosen to light theirs. The flames create a cozy, romantic ambiance that I hope my girl loves.
It’s been a long time since I truly dated a woman. I’ve seen a few here and there, and I’ve asked out a handful of women since my retirement, but none of the dates felt like this. Those felt like a plau—a curated set of moves that are, at the end of the day, the means to a satisfying end. This experience with Gianna feels more real, more meaningful than all the others. And that irony is not lost on me.
My gaze pulls across the patio to the doorway just as Gianna comes through it. The sight of her makes my breath stutter in my chest. Her body is fire with soft, sensual curves in all the right places. She carries herself with the confidence that men are praised for. It’s unapologetic. Poised. Fierce.
But it’s the smirk for me—the wickedness extending from the curl of her lips to the glint in her eye—that has my attention.
I stand, grabbing the back of her chair and pulling it out for her. Curiosity prickles my skin as her hair dusts against my arm. What is she up to? I step to the side to take my seat when she grabs my wrist.
My gaze falls to hers, and I’m unable to look away. She holds it tight as she pries my fingers open one by one. Then a piece of fabric is pressed into my palm.
“What’s this?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
Slowly, with a grin hot enough to scald the sun, she reverses order, closing my fist into a ball around the fabric.
“I wanted to give you a token of appreciation.” She licks her lips. “Since you can’t take these off me, I did it for you.”
You little fucking minx.
I bite back a growl rumbling at the base of my throat, and fight the urge to bring her panties to my nose and breathe them in. My cock throbs so hard that I’m not sure I can sit. But I play it off as best as I can, shoving the damp lace into my pocket and lowering myself into my chair.
In no way did I suggest that I wanted a sexless relationship, and she knows it. This isn’t a token of appreciation. It’s defiance wrapped in consent. But if that’s how she wants to play this, so be it.
Raffi reappears with our iced teas. “Here you are. Have you had a moment to look at the menu?”
Gianna smiles up at Raffi. “I don’t need to look. What do you suggest?”
“Oh, I love it when customers ask me this,” she says, laughing. “Well, we have steaks, roast chicken, and sustainably caught fish. But my favorite is the burger. The Fernie, to be specific. Thick patty with lettuce, tomato, onion, and a little mayo. It’s a little basic, I know, but sometimes you can’t beat a classic.”