Warning: This chapter contains a man and a woman copulating for the pure fun of it. Skip or enjoy, your choice.
He speared the last of his appetizer and devoured it with such pleasure I couldn't be sure he'd been listening to what I said. Maybe his senses were all occupied otherwise. Delicious food could do that to you.
When the corners of his mouth twitched, I knew however, that he was only toying with me. He had heard me very well. After another sip of his wine he asked, "Do I need to be afraid now?"
"No." I put my fork down and waited for our plates to be cleared. "The most outrageous that I found about you is a parking ticket that isn't paid yet – due date is tomorrow by the way – and that you didn't finish your private school education in Europe."
He propped his chin up on his hand, his thumb running over the stubble of his beard underneath it. "Well, there was this incident in third grade when I took part in this brawl with the class bully Chad and was forced to do kitchen duty for a week." He looked over to me, resembling the proud little boy that stood up for himself.
"Scandalous!" I exclaimed, making the waitress jump who brought out our entrée. The steak was still sizzling on the iron skillets so that the butter on top was melting rapidly. We gave her the space to do her job. When she was finished, Adrian nodded to her unspoken question and she hurried away.
"I know," he picked up our conversation as if the interruption never happened. Picking up his fork and knife, he savored the aroma that hit his nose, before he placed his first well-placed cut. "I admit though, it's probably still not enough to keep up with an investigative reporter, picking fights with influential people left and right."
I blushed and smiled. "So, you read up on me as well." The idea pleased me a lot. It meant that there was an interest beyond just the physical.
"Compared to you I fear though, I come sourly unprepared," he replied.
I leaned back in my chair, watching him dismember his meat. "Are you mad at me for digging deep?"
"Me?" he asked surprised and shook his head. "Not at all. Finally, there is a sign of common sense and self-preservation; both of which I started to fear, you lacked completely."
"Is that what you think of me?" The surprise was all mine now. It wasn't about the judgement itself – I heard that before. Repeatedly. Hell, my boys constantly complained about my inability to recognize danger when it would come with a big sign and an engraved invitation. But to hear it from him after how the evening had went so far, was unexpected.
He was unfazed though, and acted like he had no care but his steak. "I think of you that you will be a challenge for me. I prefer to be the protector."
"Won't happen." I shook my head vehemently. My stepfather hadn't raised me to depend on any man. Not even for Adrian I would cross that line.
He grinned at his plate. "I realized that when I saw the knife on your leg and the lock pick set in your purse." When he looked up after, one eyebrow arched, his eyes were one smoldering challenge.
"Perceptive," I mumbled. The food in my stomach turned to stone. He had caught me. He had seen it all and had said not a word. What did he think I had been up to? What was this evening all about? Did he invite me to show me how stupid and weak I was, unworthy of the opponents I tried to bring down? Was he in bed with Rizzoli and this all a set up for – what? Nothing I had found on him pointed to the fact. I couldn't believe I had read him so wrongly. Yet, I tensed, ready to at least deliver a fight if nothing else.
"The line of business that I am in, is all about watching people and noticing everything about them," he lectured me. The meat finished and the waitress nowhere to be seen anymore, I was the sole object of his attention. That had been the purpose of his nod earlier. We were now truly alone. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to serve and protect your clienteles the way they deserve, nor offer them deals that fit them."
I squinted at him, not sure where he was going with this. "What's your offer for me then?" I asked with more sass when I felt. It was the moment that I realized that I really had hoped for something more with him, something that could be permanent. Of course, it was also the moment that the possibility of that happening seemed the furthest away ever since I had crouched in front of him, ready to use my knife any second.
He used his napkin, dabbed it to the corners of his mouth ever so delicately. Then he wadded it up and put it next to his plate. "I thought we could compromise."
"Compromise how?" I inquired. I was genuinely curious where he was going with this.
He leaned forward, placing his arms on the edge of the table with enough force, that it slightly tilted in his direction. His eyes drilled into me, caught me, stopped even the trembling from happening that my body had meant to start. The chill ran down my back without any outward sign. A low growl started down his throat that turned into words. "I want you to be mine. Usually, I would expect now that you hand me the control in exchange of me taking care of all your needs. You seem to have a curious need to put yourself in danger for whatever unfathomable reason however. I am ready to respect that need, as long as you respect my need to know. I need to know what you are up to at all times. I want to be included into your life as sign of your trust."
I let out the breath that I had held. Still not moving, I found enough power and gained enough control over my body at least, to reply his stare. "To quote a friend – smooth bastard."
He barely even shrug. "So?"
His grin was so cocky, I had half a mind to whip it from his face. But he had all reason for it. He knew he had me, before I ever found my voice again. 24 hours and he had read me, pegged me, and played me for keeps. For all that it mattered, I've been a foregone conclusion from the start. My pause now was for the preservation of self-respect, not thinking. But eventually I spoke. "I've just started investigations into the manuscript heist."
For a second he looked confused. "Marla is so inconsolable about it. But what's in it for you? The police are already at it. You could only supplement to their work. It doesn't promise a big story."
"You remember the sticky handed phone addict?" He nodded. "I found out last night that his dad is the main suspect in the crime. I don't know him or his brother, the man that handed me Tony." I could leave it at that. Tony would be sufficient reason for me to want more information. But Adrian's demand for openness still resonated in me, an order not to be ignored. Or perhaps it was his expectant look that pulled my usual stops. Whatever it was, I found myself continuing. "But, and this is as much trust as I could ever show you since it's something no one is aware of so far, Mike's husband seems to be befriended with Tony's dad. I want to find out whether Henry is involved in some way, before his name is dragged into it."
"What's your relationship to Professor Harris?"
"Mike was my legal guardian between age 16 and when I came of age," I replied, knowing that it would bring up far more questions than I was usually willing to answer. I've sift without permission through Adrian's childhood and all the rest of his life though. I owed him.
"What? How? He couldn't have been more than 20 then?"
I better got this over with in one go. "He was 21 when my stepfather died in an accident. At that time, Mike already had lived with us for a while. He had moved in to benefit from the better school district during his final school years and had never officially moved out when he had started university. I think the authorities were simply happy that someone took me off their hands without any demands."
"Wasn't there anyone else?" Adrian wanted to know. "Some kind of kin?"
I sighed. I hadn't meant to destroy our nice evening with my past. But it couldn't be helped. "My mom died in childbirth, leaving the man who had married her, pregnant as she was, with a child that was not his. I think my real father was abusive and my mom in hiding. It would explain why my stepfather was so adamant when it came to me learning my self- defense, and the boys that he trained, learning respect and loyalty."
Adrian seized my hand and squeezed it. Visibly unsettled he said, "I am sorry."
"What for?" I asked. He had nothing to do with any of that.
"That I preyed."
"So, much time has passed, and yet I still miss him." I forced a smile. "At least you now know that I am not a damsel trying to slay a dragon. I actually know what I am doing, know the dangers, and know how to defend me, if I must." Just not against him, it appeared. I should have known when he unarmed me with his first look.
"You're carrying the knife now?"
My forehead crinkled momentarily. "Why do you ask?"
"Because," he started, leaning in even closer. "I want to kiss you now, pressed flush against this wall over there. Can you see it? Are you able to imagine how that would feel?" The tension in my groin was real. I didn't need to imagine it. And I feared there was a puddle on my chair. "Before I do however, I try to discern the danger I'd put me in, acting on my intentions."
I pulled my hand out of his and turned in my chair until both of my legs peeked out from under the tablecloth at the same side. Then I slowly lifted first one, then the other leg of my pants. All that showed up was my skin. I glanced over to Adrian from the corner of my eyes.
"I knew I would be safe with you from the beginning," I rasped.
When he came to stand in front of me, I expected him to pull me up. Instead he kneeled, grabbing my ankles by the bare skin and splitting my legs. He filled the space between them, before I had regained my balance and composure. Naturally, I reached for his shoulders to hold on to. He put my arms back, where they had been – one hand at the chair and the other on the table.
"Keep them there."
I nodded. Satisfied, his long fingers that I had admired the day before, cleaning my phone, grasped me around my waist and pulled me to the edge of the chair.
I wore a waistcoat on top of a bra, but not for long anymore. Not that orderly at least. The waistcoat thrust open, Adrian's attention focused on my breasts. Intently, he watched as my nipples peaked under the care, his fingers accorded them through the sheer, thin fabric that still covered them.
I pushed them forward, coaxing him without words to continue. His touch on my skin was, what I needed. Adrian however, took his time. Once I made to remove my bra by myself. All good it did, was that Adrian growled, glared, and stopped all engagement until my hand was back where it was supposed to be according to his order.
Agonizing seconds, stretched to the feel of hours, later, his fingers finally slid into the cups. With a flick, he made my breasts jump over the rim. I had a hard time breathing when, with one hand spread against my back, he guided one of them to his mouth. His teeth skimmed over my skin when they closed in around the tip. He pinched it, pulled it, mirrored his mouths movements on the other breast with his finger and thumb.
My back arched. My head sank back. On one side, my fingers wrapped around the back of the chair until my fingernails dug into the flesh of my palm. With the other hand, I seized the tablecloth. The dinnerware dangled, clattered and crashed.
The bastard in front of me smiled and relentlessly continued his attack on my senses. Between his body and hands, I had no way to escape. He widened his field of operation, up to my neck and down to my belly. His mouth was everywhere. Sucking. Biting. He'd leave marks. Some part of my brain registered that this was probably the aim of the exercise.
I couldn't ponder what I thought about it, because in this exact moment he ran his nose up the apex of my legs. He blew his hot breath on me through my pants. Nipped the insides of my thighs. My head shut down. I quivered, twitched and moaned.
"Shh, quiet. Not yet."
He stopped. I couldn't believe it and was about to protest, when I felt his fingers fight with the buttons of my pants.
"You need to start wearing dresses to our dates. If I want you to wear a chastity belt, I put it on myself," he grumbled after a bit.
I saw his point, since I was still wearing my pants and I would rather not. I moved my hands to help. He swatted them away. "No!"
Finally, he said, "Up." I stood and allowed him to slide pants and panties in one go down my legs. Lifting one foot at the time I stepped out of the offensive pieces of garment. He discarded them, already busy running his nose up my middle until he stood in front of me.
It wasn't fair. I was practically naked, my breasts trussed up for display by my own bra, and he was still completely dressed, not even looking a little disheveled. But after a glance into his eyes, I knew better than to move, while he was admiring me like a compelling piece of art. Without warning, he wrapped me tight against his chest and spun us around until he was seated in my chair and I found myself on his spread legs.
I felt the air cold against my soft part, felt the blood singing under the skin that he had worked on. At least, I could sink my fingers now into his hair as he leaned in to claim my mouth. Our tongues dancing, I heard beyond the pulse in my ears his zipper open. One hand under my butt cheeks for support, he lifted me by straightening his back and placed me on himself.
I gasped into our kiss. He filled me to capacity. I wanted to move. But once more he held me tight in place, distracting me with his mouth. No other option and no real reason to complain, I relaxed into his hands.
"That's right my sweet cactus, you are mine now."
The words made my core twitch. I grasped for air, sobbed. But Adrian wouldn't allow me yet to combust. He held tight and demanded, "Say it."
My brain was too much goo and too little thinking to understand immediately what he wanted. I searched for the right words, the code that would take me over the threshold. His grip became tighter. I muttered the first thing that came to mind by the possessiveness, he showed. "Yours."
"Exactly."
One of his hands moved between us. He found the exact spot where I was most sensitive. He brushed it once, twice. By the third time I cried out, "Adrian." The inside of my body grabbed him, while the rest shattered in a million pieces, mixing with the essence that was Adrian until we were one panting, quivering knot in a chair on a patio by the sea.