Page 78 of All Mine
The two women looked at each other, hesitant smiles lighting their faces. Isabella saw Wren reach for Rosie’s hand under the table.
‘We thought we might try for another baby,’ Rosie blurted with an excited wiggle.
Amber whooped from the bar, obviously listening in.
‘That’s so exciting!’ Isabella said, clasping her hands together. Trying to ignore the fact that Etienne’s thumb was brushing against her thigh under the table.
‘Riley will be four soon and will be in school come next September. So, we could devote time to the baby,’ Wren said.
‘So, we talked to Toby about it and he was keen. . .’
‘So, why are you both drinking mocktails then?’ Fox asked.
‘We thought we’d do it differently this time. With Riley, it was Wren’s egg and my womb,’ Rosie said.
‘This time, we’re going to try Rosie’s egg and my womb.’ Wren and Rosie only had eyes for each other. Wren bit her lip hopefully. Rosie crossed her fingers. Everyone clinked glasses.
During the last round everyone had a mocktail, apart from Walker who was starting his four days off and was making the most of it. Everyone else had to be up early or had babysitters to get back to. As everyone sipped, Etienne started to stroke Isabella’s thigh under the table, and she fought to keep her face composed. By eleven, the team took a bow to a round of applause and left, congratulating each other with high fives and hugs. There’d been no breakages and no mistakes. Amber seemed to sag with relief.
Fox invited Walker back to his house to play the latest stage of his game and Rosie and Wren offered Amber a lift home, which she gratefully accepted, looking beat on her feet. Etienne nodded towards the chaos on the bar, the crushed fruit, the empty bottles and dirty glasses.
‘I’ll help you clear up,’ he said to Isabella.
Isabella bit her lip as she locked the door and turned off the main lights. Her stomach was hollow with anticipation. It was just her and Etienne.
Etienne had already rolled his sleeves up and was stacking glasses in the dishwasher as fast as was humanly possible. She moved behind the bar next to him and began to clear the top. Standing so close, she could smell his scent.
‘I think your restaurant is going to be good competition,’ he said, shutting the door and programming the front to start the cycle.
‘Do you think you can handle it?’ she said, wishing the only thing he would handle was her.
‘I like a competition,’ he said, turning to face her. There was only a foot between them and she caught her breath. His eyes darkened. Her nipples throbbed.
‘It’s just a game,’ he murmured, letting his eyes skim over her body. ‘And you know I like to play.’ His eyes glinted, and the air felt charged between them.
Suddenly he was on her, his mouth devouring hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth, his hands on her arse to pull her closer, to hold her tight against him. She could feel the heat of his erection pressing against her stomach through his jeans and knew he was as turned on as she was.
Etienne pulled away and they faced each other, chests heaving. She blinked, unsure as to why he’d stopped. He raised an eyebrow and lifted an ice cube from the bucket beside him. It glinted in the half-light. As he held it between his thumb and forefinger, a drip ran down his hand. Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached out and touched it to her mouth, letting it pull the lower lip as he moved it over her chin and down the side of her neck. She shivered. The ice left a trail of goosebumps behind on her exposed skin, but it felt as though he were touching her with fire.
He undid the buttons on her blouse with the other hand and the ice cube followed, sliding between Isabella’s breasts and then over the lace of her bra, tormenting her. Her breath hitched and she pressed towards him, drawing a lazy smile to his face– but he wasn’t in a hurry. Propping her back against the bar, he ran the ice around her waist and then into her navel and she gasped. Etienne undid her belt, her jeans, and she spread her arms out on the bar beside her as he pushed his hand, ice first, into her knickers. She moaned and his mouth claimed hers again, his tongue and fingers working to the same rhythm, as he rubbed what was left of the ice cube against the hottest part of her body. It was exquisite. And then she was coming and coming and coming, Etienne holding her up with his body as she fell apart.
As soon as Isabella opened her eyes again, she took control, running her hands under Etienne’s shirt, feeling the broad muscles in his back and then up and over his chest. His hands massaged her breasts, but she was not to be distracted this time. She tugged at his belt, undid his jeans and finally put her hands on him. She ran her hands along his length, feeling him leap under her fingers. She selected a cube of ice and dropped to her knees behind the bar. His hands found her head, fingers twining into her hair.
Inch by inch she uncovered him. His head glistening already, shaft throbbing. She could hardly circle him with her fingers and her mouth watered in anticipation as she parted her lips to take him in. Looking up, she saw Etienne’s eyes closed, his mouth open, a look of fierce concentration on his face. She slipped the ice cube into her own mouth and felt the delicious chill of it. She took him in again, deep, hearing his gasp at the sensation. She moaned onto his cock and watched him throw his head back. She held on to his muscular thighs and ran her fingers up and down, all the while maintaining her rhythm, feeling the power she had over him. Etienne’s hands slowly tightened in her hair and he began to move too, increasing the pace, pushing himself deeper, and she closed her eyes, matching him move for move until he growled and came, and she tasted him deep in her throat.
There was a knock at the door. They froze. Isabella, still on her knees, pushed her boobs back in and zipped up her jeans. Etienne tucked himself away behind the privacy of the bar. There was another knock, this time on the window.
‘Can you see anyone?’ Isabella asked from the floor.
Etienne nodded.
‘A woman wearing a pink bandana. She’s waving at me.’ He lifted an arm and waved back tentatively.
‘Omigod! Nonna!’ Isabella exclaimed, scrambling to her feet to see her grandmother outside, hands pressed up against the glass. She ran across to open the door.
‘Ciao, bella,’ Nonna said, giving Isabella’s cheek a pinch. ‘I must have left my keys upstairs.’ She turned her attention to Etienne. ‘Are you the new barman?’
Etienne laughed. ‘No, although I am pretty good behind the bar.’ Never a truer word. Isabella felt the heat on her neck as she introduced him as the owner of The Bistro.
