Page 54 of Tickled Pink

He dabs his lips with the back of his hand as he swallows. “Damn, that’s good soup.” He furrows his brow. “Is it just me, or does it taste better than usual tonight?”

“It does a little.” I shrug. “Might just be all the sex, though.”

“Oh, you have a point.”

“But it’s no Kitano’s.”

Max grins, his memory no doubt going to the same place mine does. Our first date. Him and me. My foot massaging him beneath the table in a private room.

“It’s really not,” he agrees.

“I miss that place.”

“You should go while you’re in LA.”

I consider the thought. “I could, but… I don’t want to go without you.”

Max waves a hand. “No, you should go. Take Jackie. Have a fun night out. Let me know what night you need a table. I’ll call Yoko.”

I lick my lips. “You won’t be jealous?”

“Oh, I’ll be gritting my teeth with rage,” he jokes. I laugh. “But I want you to go. Enjoy yourself.”

“Okay.” I pause to admire him on the bed, half-eaten rolls of sushi stacked between us. “Are you gonna miss me?”

He looks up from his bite. “What?”

“While I’m gone,” I say.

“Of course I am,” he says. “I miss you all the time.”

“You do?”

“When I’m stuck at the office and can’t make it home for dinner. When you have to stay late on a business call because the LA branch still doesn’t realize that four o’clock is seven o’clock here.”

I chortle, rolling my eyes.

“When you threw on my shirt and went downstairs to grab the food,” he says. “I don’t know how I survived that one.”

My smile digs in. “Really?”

Max sets his chopsticks down on a napkin and moves it behind him, along with the small open trays between us. Once they’re gone, he slides in close, prompting me to get rid of my chopsticks, too.

“You’re the only woman in my heart, Phoebe Pink,” he whispers as he glides his hand up my cheek and tucks my loose hair back behind my ear.

I close my eyes as his lips graze mine. The warmth of his words plunges deep into my heart, and I nearly burst from it. Max always knows what to say to make me feel like a girl in love for the first time.

“Phoebe,” he whispers, lust returning to his breath. “Show me your beautiful body.”

He lies on his back, guiding me to mount him at the waist. I straddle him, his erection already standing tall against my belly. He grabs my shirt — his shirt — and rips the buttons to reveal my breasts.

“Yes,” he says.

He touches me, his hands gliding along my curves to grip my thick thighs. He admires me with open, hungry eyes.

“Beautiful,” he says as he sits forward, his lips targeting mine.

I kiss him, feeling my body ignite. I shift upward, tasting the delicious gasp in his breath when I penetrate myself on him. He stiffens with pleasure, and I rest my palms on his chest to guide him down to his back.

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