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Chapter 27. S

Sara

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After driving to my apartment to get my overnight bag first, I make my way to Club Lusso. It's a bit after five thirty pm and we'll have enough time to do a few things before he has to work.

This time, though, I'm more nervous than ever to meet him. I'll be spending three days in a row at his place. I'll sleep in his bed, for an entire night. Several nights, actually.

I had changed into a nice set of undies and a push-up bra—one that makes my breast appear so much bigger. I'm sure he'll appreciate the sight when he takes my shirt off.

In the garage, there are no cars, only the two that belong to Anton and his motorcycle.

Taking a deep breath, I march toward the lift, pressing the button and the doors open for me. I'm not sure if he gets alerts when one enters the elevator. And I don't know if I want him to know I'm coming up or not.

The elevator ride goes by quicker than I'm ready for, and the doors open at his condo with a ding.

The soft sound of Mozart booms from a speaker on his island. Antonio is standing behind a stove, cooking something I can't make out what it is. He looks up, his eyes brightening, licks his thumb clear of leftover food and comes my way.

"You're here," he says, not surprised by my arrival. With his other hand he didn't just lick, he lightly pinches my chin and angles my face to him. He gives me a loud smooch. "Let me take this." He takes my tote bag, and sets it on a sofa that's nearest to him.

When he faces me again, he retakes my hand and we walk together to his balcony, opposite of his kitchen.

I slow my steps, looking wide eyed at the table set on the balcony.

There are plates and utensils, a candle surrounded by little flowers in the middle. A basket of bread is to the side. The other side has a bottle of wine with two stem glasses.

I turn to him, slightly bewildered. He wants us to have dinner together?

"You did all this yourself?"

"Mhmm." He pulls my chair back for me, and I gingerly take a seat. "I'll be right back with the appetizers. They're already done."

With our hands still interlocked, he pulls it in front of his lips and kisses my knuckles before walking back to his kitchen.

After about two minutes, he comes back with two plates. I see that they're scallops when he comes closer and sets one plate in front of me.

"For starters, we have scallops, with pineapple salsa and plump wasabi drizzle." He explains what the dish is.

I'm not sure what I'm drooling about; the yummy looking dish or him. He's wearing a dark pink buttoned shirt with light blue dress pants. The bright colors look extremely good with his tan and dark hair and eyes.

"Wow," I breathe out and glance at the view from up here. The sun is low, and it's what they call 'golden hour'.

"This looks really delicious," I tell him after facing him again. "Thank you."

"Buon appetito,"

I've only had scallops once in my life, and I've watched enough Master Chef and listened to Gordon Ramsay yelling at chefs who overcook them. But the ones I'm currently eating are heavenly. They're cooked to perfection. They're juicy and the pineapple salsa is giving it a kick, along with the wasabi; the combination is giving me a foodgasm.