Page 41 of Best Laid Plans
Now that we’re seated, I’m realizing we’ve never just sat across from each other and stared. At the diner we were side by side, at his place he was on top of me, a lot, which warranted some face to face action but I did have my eyes closed for a good amount of it. His office, both times I was more focused on trying to feel him rather than see him. Yeah, this is the first time I’ve sat across from Cole where I can see all of him. And he can see me. Indigo blue eyes that pierce straight through me. Chiseled jaw line that has a hint of dark stubble lining it. But there’s more to it than that. Cole is gorgeous, but there’s something in his mannerisms that really suck me in. The way his long fingers curl around the lowball glass before he lifts it to his mouth. The way he leans back in his chair, studying me.
Eating dinner with Cole is a bad idea. First of all, there are his lips, and his mouth, and he puts things in it, then he chews. Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do but squirm in my seat? After his old-fashioned he orders a glass of wine, and if I thought his grip on the lowball glass was revving up my engine, the way his fingers pinch and slowly rotate the stem of the wine glass is like dining table erotica.
I think he knows something is going on with me. He’s asked me twice if I’m okay. I uncross and cross my legs again, trying to get more pressure on my clit. If I could just slip my fingers under the table without anyone knowing I’d be okay. We’ve eaten two of the six dishes that we ordered and there’s no way I’m going to make it through the rest of this dinner without losing my mind if I don’t take care of this. I wonder how long it’s going to take me? Will Cole be sitting here wondering if I snuck out the bathroom window? The bathrooms are on an interior wall so that’s not even possible but I have run off before so he might get the wrong idea. Or, he might think I’m sick. Or having explosive diarrhea. Or both.
What’s the worst that could happen? He thinks I’m a nut job and leaves me at the restaurant? Then there’d be no sex and this would all be for naught, but he also seems kind of used to my straightforward behavior and maybe he won’t think I’m too much of a weirdo.
I’m staring at him trying to decide what to do.
“Brooke, is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “Um, I’m kind of having a hard time focusing.”
“Oh?”
“I’m really wet.”
“Did you spill something?”
Cole’s gaze drops to the table where he observes all of our perfectly upright glasses. He looks confused.
“I’m going to go to the ladies room and take care of it. It might be a little while, but just know I didn’t leave.”
Cole is beyond confused. “Take care of what?”
“Um, I’m just having a lot of sensation…down there.” I use my finger to point under the table. “I just need a release and I’ll be better.”
It sounded perfectly normal in my head, but it sounds a lot worse when I say it out loud. Cole doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me for a moment, his blue eyes taking in every inch of my face, before dropping lower to my neck and chest.
He takes a sip of his wine. I’m about to scoot my chair back when he pushes back from the table.
“Excuse me a moment.”
Cole stands and walks toward the back of the restaurant, toward the kitchen. Okay. Now I’m not sure what is happening. He’s probably decided that I’m too much for him and he’s canceling the rest of our food order, then he’s going to get the hell out of here. I really can’t blame him. I’m normally so even keel, go with the flow, and although I typically have a healthy appetite for sex, the fertility hormones have my libido in overdrive. I’m really trying to focus and have a nice dinner with Cole but this is out of my control, and sitting across from Cole is not helping. So, really, it’s his fault. If he would have fucked me on his desk this morning, we wouldn’t be in this situation.
Cole reappears and I’ve managed to go from embarrassed to pissed while he was gone. He stands next to my seat and offers his hand.
“Let’s go.”
“Fine,” I huff, grabbing my purse. I don’t really want to hold his hand but the way he squeezes mine and starts pulling me along, I don’t really have a choice. We’re heading toward the back of the restaurant. Geez, he’s so embarrassed we can’t even leave through the front entrance? I’m totally calling an uber, I refuse to get back in a car with a man that can’t sympathize with my situation. Oh wait, I guess he doesn’t really know the whole situation.
Okay, maybe it’s not exactly his fault, but he’s a fucking gynecologist, so he should be all up to date on the shit that women go through. Oh, and my body didn’t get the memo that Cole is acting like a dick. It thinks this rough hand-holding thing is really hot. I see the exit sign and can’t wait to get there so I can pull my hand away from his, but then we’re turning and Cole is opening a different door. One that opens to a small room with a desk and a guest chair facing it. The desktop is clean with the exception of a closed laptop in one corner.
Cole ushers me in, then shuts the door behind us. The click of the lock startles me and I turn around to face Cole.
“What—"
“I asked my buddy if I could use his office.”
He starts to move toward me. The space is small, only three feet between the door and the desk, so it only takes a few steps before my butt hits the edge of the desk.
“There is no way that I would sit out there while you touched yourself in the restroom.” Our bodies are so close now, almost touching. Cole’s hands reach for my waist and lift me onto the desk. “If you come in this restaurant it will be under my tongue, with my fingers inside you.”
“Oh,” is all I can manage, because his words have just completely liquified me. I’m a puddle on this desk. A puddle with an ache between its thighs.
Cole’s palms slide up my thighs, inching my dress up with them.
“Lean back.”
