Side Effects To Marriage May Include

Chapter 19: You?

"You look devilishly handsome" comes out my voice, surprising the both of us with my initiative.

"Well, you look breathtaking " he responds and I sigh in relief for he chose not to make this moment awkward for me, simultaneously a blush covers my cheeks and I smile at the ground.

He takes my hand in his, and I swear it fits perfectly, and we walk out our front door to the garage climbing into his black Ferrari.
Not going to lie, the contact between our hands sends these electrical tingling sparks up my arm.

The drive to whatever restaurant he's bringing me to takes about twenty minutes until we reach our seeked destination.

He opens my car door for me and interlocks our hands together again and we trudge slowly to the restaurant.

It's a really fancy extravagant five-star looking place, with creamy walls and paintings hanging on the walls radiating this posh vibe.

We make our way to our reserved table and he pulls my chair for me. I utter a 'thanks' and he nods in acknowledgment.

My heartbeat pace picks up tremendously, and in this instance I realized that I'm nervous to the point it made my palms go sweaty.

*[A/N: palms are sweaty, knees week, arms are heavy. There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti ]*

He looks at me with daunting eyes, as to decipher every piece of fiber he's gazing into. I squirm in my seat and the waiter saves me from his stare by bringing the menus and setting them each in front of us on the table.

I open mine and take a look at what they're serving.

After a few moments of uncertainty, I raise my voice to ask Nickolas about what he's getting, since he's the one who brought me here. He must know what dishes taste better.

"Umm, so what do you want to eat?" I ask looking through my menu to him across from me with raised eyebrows expectantly.

His smirk deepens upon hearing my voice and comes out his low voice
"You".

Well, damn.

I think my heart stopped for a brief moment right there and then, understanding exactly what he insinuated.

I clear my throat and sip on my glass of water trying to hide my flustered features.

As to him, he looks unbothered by his comment and casually brings his glass of wine to his luscious lips.

The waiter comes to my rescue. Again. And Asks us if we're ready to order yet.
I nod, not wanting to drag this out any further.
" I'll have a Filet Mignon, with Caesar salad please" I tell him my order as he jots it down on a notepad.

He then turns to face my date " I'll have a Risotto" Nickolas lets out.
The waiter scribbles it down as well and with a final question of 'anything else?'  to which I respond with 'No, thank you' he leaves.

"Isn't risotto an Italian dish? I thought you were Spanish descendant?" I can't help my curiosity from getting the best of me.

"Yeah, I'm Spanish. It doesn't mean I can't enjoy other cuisines" his eyebrows are up expectantly.

"Yes, of course " I keep my answers short, afraid of embarrassing myself further in his presence.

When our food arrives, I dig in instantly, not caring about etiquette or any of that bullshit designed to make me eat less.

He chuckles at my state and seems to enjoy my animalistic behavior of devouring a steak more than his enjoying his own food.

For dessert, I order a Belgic waffle accompanied by dark and white chocolate syrups and two handful scoops of chocolate chip ice cream on the sides.

He orders a Soufflé and when his reaches shortly after mine I put on my puppy dog eyes so he would let me taste some of his dessert.

"Stop with the puppy dog eyes" he instructs, but I don't budge.

A minute later, he sighs and looks at my pouty face "fine" he says and before I have the chance to pick up my own mini spoon to take a portion, he takes his out of his mouth and dips it in the bowl of hot chocolate and brings it to my mouth.

I open my mouth and the taste of heaven infiltrates my buds. I moan slightly mesmerized by the heavenly taste.
Then, I pick up my fork and knife, cutting some waffle and bringing it to his mouth.

I thought he might shoo me away, but instead opens his mouth and welcomely tastes the dessert.

•••

Later in the evening, after finishing our desserts we decide to leave.

Once we're already in the car, all buckled up to drive, he rests his right hand that isn't around the steering wheel just above my knee.

As time passes, his hand starts moving north agonizingly slow.
My thigh-high slitted dress isn't helping with my exposed legs. His hands start drawing circles as he goes up and I melt under his touch.

Once we reach home, I close the door behind us and having got tired of his teasing I take off my killer heels, grab his hand and pull him towards the bedroom with a knowing smirk on both our faces.

•••

A/N:

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