Page 16 of Her Marine
She smirked at him. “I took you as more of a whiskey drinker.”
Killian chuckled, knowing she was referring to the glasses of whiskey he’d had the night before at the bowling alley.
“I am, but I don’t mind wine.”
“Then wine it is. I don’t have a preference for red or white, so you can decide,” she told him.
They were looking over their menus a few minutes later when the waitress returned to the table. Killian asked for a bottle of their most popular wine, and the two ordered appetizers.
“So, how long are you on leave?” Journee inquired after a few seconds of silence.
“A few weeks. I don’t normally take all my leave time, so it tends to accumulate.”
“Must be nice,” she responded. “Working for myself means I don’t normally take vacation time outside of Christmas.”
“That’s not good,” Killian stated. “You have to find time for yourself.” Though he tended to do the same.
“I do. Just not extended periods of it,” Journee countered, and Killian lifted a brow at her.
“If you say so,” Killian threw out in Russian, and he watched her shift slightly in her seat. He hadn’t missed her doing the same thing the first time he’d spoken in Russian to her as well.
“What did you say, and how many languages do you speak?” she questioned.
“I said if you say so, and five.”
“Which are?”
“All the ones that will have you wet between the thighs,” he informed her with a smirk, and Journee rolled her eyes at him playfully.
“I’m sure you think that,” she responded.
Killian leaned over, bringing his lips to her ear. “You want to test that, Tigress?” he questioned in Italian. Killian listened to her breath hitch, and he smirked before nipping at her earlobe. “Because I’d be more than happy to,” he finished in English.
Journee placed her hand on his chest and pushed him backward. “I don’t know what you said but behave.”
Killian licked his lower lip. “I have no intentions of doing that.”
He watched as she went to say something else, but the waitress returned with two wine glasses and the bottle of wine in a bucket of ice. Killian thanked her, stating that he would pour it, and she gave them an estimate of how long their appetizers would take.
“So, are you a linguist?” Journee asked once they were alone again.
“I am not,” Killian responded. He knew why she was asking.
“Learning multiple languages was for fun then?”
“More or less.”
Journee nodded and they broke out into conversation, Killian asking her what had led her to want to be an event planner and her asking him how long he’d been in the services. It was surreal for him to think he’d been in seventeen years, having enlisted right out of high school at eighteen.
When their appetizers arrived, they placed their entree orders and continued their conversation.
A little over an hour later, they’d finished with their food and looked over the dessert menu. Killian decided on a piece of Lemon Meringue pie, while Journee chose a piece of Chocolate cake with caramel drizzle.
Killian was just about to take his first bite when he heard Journee moan softly, and his eyes snapped to her. She had her lips around her fork, eyes closed as if she was savoring the bite she’d just taken, and the only thing Killian could think of at that moment were those same lips wrapped around his dick. Those same eyes closed in pleasure as he gave her deep strokes. That same sound coming from her lips, and him being the cause.
He switched hands, placing his fork in his left as his right went down to grab her thigh. She jumped slightly, her eyes opening to look at him, and she slowly pulled the fork from her mouth. Neither of them spoke as he slid his hand to the apex of her thighs, the dress she wore, giving him easy access.
He ran the tip of his middle finger up her panty-covered slit, and Journee breathed out slowly; Killian then turned his attention to his dessert, taking a bite as he continued his other hand’s ministrations. He was giving her just enough pressure to feel it, rile her up, but it was nowhere near enough to get her off.
