Page 17 of Silent Cravings

One thing was painfully obvious as I sat across from Valentina in the country club restaurant.

I needed to get laid.

And soon.

“What’s wrong?” She tipped her head to the side, then dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin after testing a slice of chateaubriand. “You look like you swallowed something bad.”

If only that were my problem.

If only I could take my eyes off her.

If my fucking dick would stop getting uncomfortably thick every time she put something in her mouth. “I’m good,” I croaked.” Why was my mouth so dry? “Distracted, I guess.”

“Please, don’t tell me you have bad news,” she warned in a flat voice. “I could not take bad news right now.”

“Don’t worry. Everything’s good.” Except for the extreme discomfort in my fucking boxer briefs.Goddammit.I had yet to get my shit together around her. All she had to do was open her mouth and slide the tines of a fork between herlips, and I was ready to start humping her like a rabid dog.Did rabid dogs fuck? Jesus Christ, how the fuck did I know?

I was miserable, not to mention increasingly pissed that I had to behave myself when it was the last thing I wanted to do. It would’ve been so natural, taking her by the hand and leading her up to my office where we would do things I could not risk thinking about right now. I was uncomfortable enough as it was, fighting a raging hard-on and glad she couldn’t see it, thanks to the table between us.

“You’ve got a hell of a kitchen here.” She speared another small bite of succulent beef on the end of her fork. I couldn’t breathe as I watched her raise the fork, parting her lips and sliding the meat onto her tongue. She was killing me.

None of this would’ve been such a problem if I could just get laid. This was the dry spell to end all dry spells, barring the time I broke my collarbone playing a game of basketball. Sex was the furthest thing from my mind then. But that was what it took, some of the worst pain I’d ever experienced to wipe the thought of fucking my brains out. Otherwise, it was never a problem finding a willing woman.

The women weren’t the problem. It was me this time. I couldn’t muster enough interest in anyone.

That wasn’t true, was it?

The problem only got worse when Valentina’s eyes closed, and a soft moan stirred in her throat. “God, that is so good,” she whispered, chuckling when her eyes opened. “I swear, I should buy a place out here for the excuse to eat every meal in this dining room.”

“Wait until you see what the pastry chef can do,” I told her, snagging the last bite of beef. “You think this is good? His key lime tarts will melt your panties clean off.”

It slipped out before I had a chance to reign in back in.

Goddammit, Evan. What the fuck?

“There you go, thinking about my panties,” she murmured, sighing as she made a note on her tablet. I couldn’t tell if she hated the idea or what. “Anyway, I think offering the beef or the salmon in dill sauce would be a good move for entrées. We’ll need a vegetarian option as well.”

“I thought of that.” Crooking my fingers, I signaled one of the servers, who brought us a platter of housemade gnocchi in a pear and gorgonzola sauce. “Give this a shot. We could change the sauce if you want, but the gnocchi are second to none.”

“I am going to need a week at the gym after all this food.” She didn’t exactly sound unhappy, though, as she picked up her fork. I had tasted the dish hundreds of times—one of my favorites on the menu. I was perfectly content to sit back and watch her, anticipating her reaction.

She did not disappoint. “Fuck,” she groaned out, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath while she chewed slowly. “I have died and gone to heaven. Holy shit.”

I couldn’t stop staring at the drop of creamy sauce clinging to the corner of her mouth. Hunger unfurled in me, much deeper than a need for food. I needed her here, now. We were two healthy, discreet adults. Why the fuck were we pretending we weren’t interested in each other?

Oh, right, because I had fucked up everything, and she was probably too wounded to entertain the idea. On top of that, we were working together. I couldn’t afford to forget that either. There were always complications once sex entered the picture.

Like the one I struggled with right now, digging my short nails into my thighs to fight off the impulse to clear the table with a sweep of my arm and make a meal out of her. Now, not only was my cock twitching in anticipation, but mymouth was salivating for a reason that had nothing to do with the food.

It was so damn good when we were together that nobody could blame me for wanting more of her.

“This is absolutely sinful.” She moaned before taking another bite of the pillowy ricotta dumplings. “Oh, I could drown in this sauce.”

Her eyes opened to find me blatantly staring, hanging onto her every breath, every move she made. At first, I prepared myself to get slapped across the face for staring like I was. At the very least, I figured I would get called out.

Neither of those things happened. Instead, her eyes twinkled wickedly as she slid the tip of her tongue from between her lips and caught the drop of sauce.

Fuck me to tears.

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