Page 120 of Fostering Chemistry
Which I was, but not for food.
My breath caught when Diego’s long fingers curled, moving rhythmically. Then I realized he was tugging the fabric of my skirt upward, gathering it in his hand.
Oh god. Slowly, the hem of the skirt slid up my leg until it was entirely bunched under his fingers. And then his palm was flat on my thigh, skin on skin.
How was that turning me on so much? If he could turn me on so much with just one hand, it made me even more eager to experience what he could do tonight.
Suddenly, I wanted to turn him on too. He was getting me all hot and bothered, and I wanted to return the favor. A rather evil favor, since we were in public. I hooked my ankle around his teasingly, which caused my legs to spread apart.
Too late, I remembered how turned on I’d gotten during that movie night when Cody pulled my legs apart. It took genuine concentration not to grind my hips against the chair.
Diego slid his hand down the inside of my thigh, pulling my leg even closer against his. Crap, that was getting to me. Now I could feel cool air from the restaurant under my skirt and brushing past my panties.
“Are we going to have another Team Mia meeting before we leave?” Cody was saying, gesturing with his fork, “I’ve got some music I’d like you to hear.”
It took me a minute to remember that the head of Team Mia was me. “Yes, that would be great. I’d love to see that.”
Cody and Aaron shot me a look, and it occurred to me that one didn’t actually see music. “I mean, hear it.” I cast about for another topic. “Do you guys have finals next week?”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Actually, yes. That’s why they call it finals week.”
Diego’s hand squeezed my thigh, and I bit back a yelp. “No, I mean like, final exams. I have two, in…” Suddenly I couldn’t remember the name of a single course I was taking. “In my classes.”
So lame. But who the hell cared when Diego’s hand was sliding higher up the inside of my thigh?
Then his fingers wereright there, at the edge of my panties. I clutched the table, holding on as if I expected the room to tilt.
The heat from his hand was driving me crazy even though he didn’t quite cross the boundary into actually touching me there. I reached for my water glass with a slightly trembling hand. Only after I drained it did I realize I’d just downed Aaron’s water.
Diego chuckled, his low voice near my ear. “So distracted.” He knew exactly what he was doing to me, the evil bastard.
The hot, sexy, evil bastard.
Time to show him that two could play this game. Under the table, I slid my hand onto his leg, feeling the firm muscle of his thigh beneath his jeans. I squeezed gently, then let my fingers trail upward.
“Are you okay?” Cody asked, looking at me with concern. “You seem flushed.”
“Just… spicy salsa,” I lied, finally locating my own water glass and taking a sip. Ice water spilled down my chest as the back of Diego’s knuckles grazed against my panties.
The touch was so brief, so teasing, that I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. Diego appeared completely composed, nodding along to something Aaron was saying about a paper he had to write, but I felt his thigh tense under my hand.
I grew bolder, sliding my palm higher until I encountered the hard bulge in his jeans. Very hard. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but I caught it. Suddenly, I wasn’t the only one squirming. Feeling bolder because of that fact, I traced the outline through the denim. He was big, and very, very hard.
Aaron asked him how he liked the food, and somehow, despite my touch, he pulled himself together.
“These enchiladas are amazing,” Diego said. “Almost as good as mine.” His voice was impressively steady despite what was happening beneath the tablecloth. His fingers had become more daring, stroking up and down my slit, pushing my damp panties against my heated skin.
I choked on the water I’d just gulped down. My hips shifted involuntarily, pressing into his touch.
“You sure you’re okay?” Aaron asked, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Fine,” I squeaked, as Diego’s finger pressed the thin fabric directly over my clit, then rubbed with agonizing slowness. “Just… went down the wrong pipe.”
His fingers vanished, and I felt both disappointment and relief. Mostly the former. But a moment later, he nudged my pantiesaside. I inhaled sharply as the pad of his finger pressed against my clit. He was fingering mein the middle of the restaurant. That thought made me even wetter.
Diego’s expression remained neutral as he reached for the chips with his free hand, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes when they met mine. His finger dipped lower, teasing my entrance before returning to those maddening circles.
I tightened my grip on him, feeling him throb beneath my palm. I couldn’t imagine that my touch through the thick denim was doing as much for him as his was for me… but there was no way I’d be brave enough to unzip his pants. Not here.
