“Of course,” he murmurs, finding the sensitive spot between my thumb and index finger and pressing on it lightly. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted a woman so badly.”
I bite my lip to contain a moan of pleasure at what he’s doing to me. I can’t believe how erotic simple hand-to-hand contact is with him. What will it be like when he gets me into bed?
Because he will. There’s no denying it any longer, no doubt in my mind about how the night will end. Whatever my original reservations were, whatever my fears, none of those reasons matter now. Not when he makes me feel like this. Not when my entire body cries out for his touch.
“What would you like for the main course?” he asks softly, still doing something incredibly pleasurable to my palm. “Or do you wish to skip it and go straight to dessert?”
“Dessert, please,” I say on an exhale.
I’ve eaten more than enough, and anything that brings the evening closer to its inevitable conclusion is a good thing. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want Alex right now.
Smiling, he releases my hand and signals the waiter, who nods and disappears into the kitchen.
“He’ll have dessert for us shortly,” Alex says, turning back to me. “In the meantime, could I interest you in a dance?”
“A dance?”
He gestures toward the stage where a band of musicians has appeared seemingly from nowhere.
“Live music?” I can’t help but be impressed. “Sure.”
He rises from his seat, walks around the table, and courteously offers me his hand.
Heart pounding, I place my hand in his and let him lead me to the dance floor. The musicians strike up a slow tune I’ve never heard, and a female voice croons something in Russian.
At the empty area near the stage, he pulls me close, clasping my hand in his and placing a palm on the small of my back. The smell of his cologne is clean and masculine—cardamom and something spicy. As we sway to the music, I look up, struck again by our size difference and the strength of the hard body pressed against mine. Even with the two-inch heels on my boots, I barely reach his chin, and the breadth of his palm covers most of my lower back. His hips are at the level of my middle, his erection pressing against my stomach. My nipples pebble in response, reacting to his nearness and obvious desire for me.
Staring up at him, I moisten my dry lips, and my pulse speeds further as his gaze tracks the path of my tongue. The air between us grows thick and heated, like the blood pumping through my veins. As our eyes meet again, all I can hear is the uneven rhythm of my breath… and then he bends his head and kisses me.
His lips are smooth, warm, and soft. Despite the demanding hardness pressing into my belly, he kisses me gently and patiently, as though we have all the time in the world. As though we’re not burning inside, consumed by a lust so intense I’d gladly climb him right here and now, no foreplay necessary.
He traces the seam of my lips with his tongue and slips inside to stroke and caress the interior of my mouth. The taste of vodka on his breath adds to the intoxicating sensations coursing through my body. Moaning, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, sucking his lower lip into my mouth and biting down on it lightly.
He groans and presses even closer, burying one hand in my hair to hold me in place as he deepens the kiss.
In a foggy corner of my brain, an alarm sounds, briefly penetrating the haze of desire clouding my mind. The musicians, the waiters… Pushing on his shoulders, I tear my lips away.
“Wait, Alex,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath. “Not here.”
His voice is low and rough with frustration as he releases me. “I know.” Heat emanates from his large body. He’s just as turned on as I am, if not more. “I didn’t mean to get so carried away.”
“Why don’t we get out of here?”
Did those words just come out of my mouth? I’ve never been so bold or forward with a man, but I seem to have no shame with Alex.
His eyes darken, his nostrils flaring. “Yes, why don’t we?”
Before the touch of his hands on my skin has turned cold, he’s already guiding me toward the exit, one arm wrapped possessively around my shoulders.
5
As soon as we’re outside, Alex shepherds me toward the black car standing at the curb. The driver, Yuri, is waiting inside.
Wait. We just walked out without asking for a check.
“What about paying for dinner?” I ask.
The chilly November air is quickly clearing my mind, and the full implications of my actions are dawning on me.
By my initiative, I’m about to have sex with a man I hardly know—a man who’s now holding open the car door for me, waiting for me to get inside.
One corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “Don’t worry about such matters, Katyusha. It’s all taken care of.”
There’s that Katyu-something word again. “What’s that you’re calling me?” I pause before the open door, stalling for time. Now that we’re away from the seductive atmosphere of the restaurant and he isn’t drugging my senses with his touch, my normally cautious nature reasserts itself.
Sex after the first date? How could I have agreed to—no, insisted on—doing something so impulsive?
“Katyusha?” He lifts his eyebrows. “It’s a Russianized version of your name. An endearment, if you will.”
“Oh.” How do I respond to that? Truthfully, it doesn’t matter what he calls me because this is supposed to be a one-night stand. If I go through with it.
“What’s the matter?” he asks, frowning when I don’t get inside the car.
I swallow. “Alex, I . . .”
He must sense my hesitation because he bends down and kisses me again, his mouth slanting over mine more aggressively, his tongue pushing past my lips in a blatant imitation of the sexual act itself. Burying one hand in my hair, he plants the other on my ass, kneading it softly and pressing me closer to his hard body until I moan helplessly and cling to his shoulders, my doubts melting away in the heated pleasure of his touch.
How we end up inside the car, I don’t know. Somehow, we’re just there, and he’s still kissing me with those deep, penetrating kisses that make a mockery of any attempt at rational thinking. All I can concentrate on is the taste of him, the scent of him… the feel of his large, powerful body as he presses me down onto the plush leather seat.
In the back of my mind, I’m aware we’re not alone. The driver is in the car with us, taking us to our destination. But I can’t bring myself to care. I’m too caught up in what Alex is doing to me. He slips one hand underneath my sweater and cups the back of my head with the other, holding me still for the continued sensual assault on my mouth. His callused palm is deliciously rough on my bare skin as he strokes my naked back.
Unbearably turned on, I dig my nails into his shoulders, barely cognizant of my actions. His lips brush over my neck, scorching hot and moist on my sensitive skin as he delves deeper inside my sweater, finding the clasp of my bra and undoing it with smooth efficiency.
“Alex, wait,” I breathe, the warm pressure of his hand on my naked breast startling me into realizing what’s happening.