Page 53 of Scarred Heir
“And where is your father?” I already knew he still lived in Brooklyn, was remarried, and raising two step-children.
“I don’t know, probably where we left him.” She shrugged. “I didn’t look back.”
“Why?”
“My family wasn’t like yours.” She stopped talking when the server brought us another round of drinks. “Thank you.”
A server I didn’t recognize set our glasses down. Her hand shook slightly when she placed mine in front of me. I smiled at her, trying to ease her jitters, because she didn’t seem older than seventeen. She held my stare for a second before dropping her gaze to the floor and hurrying off.
“Poor kid.” I shook my head. “This is a scary place for such a young server.”
“It’s a scary place for me.” Sable ran her finger along the sugared rim of her glass and brought it to her lips. Glimpses ofthe first night we met flashed in my mind. “There are plenty of intimidating men in here.”
“And yet you sit next to the most intimidating one of them all.” I touched the corner of her mouth, swiping the remnants of sugar that settled there before smearing it across her lips. “Lick it off.”
“I’d rather you do it.”
The limoncello had given her a boost of confidence that made her even sexier.
“What else do you want me to do?” I leaned into her mouth and trailed the tip of my tongue along her lips. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” She breathed against my mouth.
“I’m right here.” I slid my hand under her dress. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Um…” She bit her lip as she gazed around the room.
“Focus on me.” I skimmed my finger along her inner thigh until I reached the edge of her panties. “Your skin is so soft.”
She closed her legs when I slipped my finger under the elastic of the lace.
“Are you teasing me again?” I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth. “Closing your legs isn’t going to stop me.”
“I don’t want you to stop.” With her tender touch, she traced her fingertips along my stubble. “I don’t ever want you to stop.”
I tangled my hand in her smooth curls, turning her head as I drove my tongue inside her mouth, tasting the zest of the lemon and the sweetness of the sugar as it mingled with the spiciness of my vodka.
“Milo,” she whispered against my lips.
“I want to take you home,” I said.
“You’re not hungry?”
“I’m hungry for your pussy.” I swiped my finger along her slit. “That’s all I want tonight.”
“Take me home.”
I released her from my hold, chugged my drink, and then held out my hand for her, but before we could make our escape, Lucas appeared at our table.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said.
“I’m assuming it’s important?” I clasped my hands and rested my elbows on the table. “Otherwise, you would have called.”
“I have news you’re going to want to hear.”
“Sable.” I picked up her martini glass. “Take your drink and wait for me at the bar.”
“I thought we were leaving,” she said.
