Page 30 of Take My Breath Away
As soon as he’s gone, I bite into my sandwich and sigh. Opposite me, James laughs.
“Better?” he asks, his voice low and deep, edged with the classic car purr, and I nod, my mouth too full to answer. “You’ve got dressing smeared on your lips.”
I swallow, grab a napkin, and wipe my mouth, not wanting to look like a kid who can’t feed himself without causing a mess.
James shakes his head. “You’ve made it worse, not better. Here.” He leans over the small table, and sweeps his thumb over my lower lip, wiping up the tangy, slightly salty dressing.
“Oh,” I croak, staring at the creamy blob on his thumb. I peer up at him through my lashes. I’m not the only one staring.
James’ cheeks have gone red. He’s unsure what to do, when this man is never unsure. He looks up and his eyes meet mine. They’re glazed and dark, the pupils distended. But it’s for a moment only, as he snaps back into himself and cleans away the mess on his own napkin.
“That’s better. Don’t want to look like you’ve gone head first into a bucket of mayo,” he says, his voice clipped and louder than before.
Don’t want to look like you’ve just wiped your cum off my face, either…
Oh, God…
“Err, no,” I just about manage to say, stirring my coffee and finding fascination in the little frothy bubbles.
When I summon the nerve to look up, James has finished his sandwich and is studying the menu again, his brow wrinkling in concentration. He looks up and his eyes lock with mine. They’re bright and clear, with no sign of the dark intensity of a couple or so minutes ago. For a second it makes me question what I saw, but a light flush still colours his cheekbones, giving me my answer.
“They’ve a good choice of cakes and pastries.” He grins and there’s something conspiratorial about the lift of his lips. James, and his sweet tooth.
“If you have cake, you won’t be able to fit into your new shirts.” James’ silk, torso-hugging shirts. “Is it worth the risk?” My voice is raspier than I’d like.
“So, you’re saying you don’t want one?” His brows raise, almost imperceptibly. There’s challenge in his eyes, and I intend to accept it.
“I’m saying, surprise me.”
I hold his gaze, and his eyes narrow before his lips curl up in a slow smile that has more than a hint of smirk.
“You’ve not the faintest clue how I might surprise you,” he says as he pushes himself up and strides to the counter.
Oh, but I think I do have a clue, and it’s not faint.
My dick obviously shares the same opinion as it pulses and pushes up against the fly of my jeans.
I tug my hoodie down and drag my chair in closer to the table. I look for the toothless old guy again, the sight of him and his gummy munching a surefire way to deflate a very inconvenient erection, but he’s gone. Instead there’s a middle aged couple.
The guy’s grinning broadly at whatever’s being said to him and offering up a fine display of perfect white teeth marred by flecks of what looks like mashed up spinach. My dick decides to return to sleep mode, and just in time as James arrives back at the table with two plates, each with a large slice of cheesecake. The sandwich filled me up, but the sight of the sweet treat makes my mouth water. This is one surprise I can handle.
“They’re going to bring over another couple of coffees, too.” James places one of the plates in front of me and sits down. “Cheesecake and another coffee, it’s the least I can do for dragging you into every shop in the West End, and—”
“James? I thought it was you.”
James’ words are sliced off as his head whips around to a guy standing a couple of feet away from our table, holding a takeaway coffee and a small brown paper bag. The shock that flares in James’ face is gone in a flash, replaced with a smile which is both friendly and guarded at the same time.
“Hello, Aiden.”
The guy called Aiden is smiling at James. It’s a dark smile, speaking of secrets and knowledge, and it slithers over my skin. I lower the hand holding the fork with a knob of cheesecake balanced on it, the clatter of metal against china louder, way, way louder than it should be in the café that’s fallen inexplicably silent.
I drink in Aiden, every part of him, and I can do it without fear because he’s not looking at me, he hasn’t even noticed me, as all his concentration, and his dark and secretive smile, is on James.
Strikingly good looking, and in his late-thirties I reckon. He’d turn heads anywhere with his close cropped dark blond hair, longer on top and flopping forward over his brow. Tight clothes mold to his muscular frame, making no attempt to disguise what lies underneath. His eyes are hooded as he stares at James, twinkling with amusement, the tip of his tongue sweeping across the edge of his top front teeth. He oozes sex and I can’t help but stare at him, at this man who radiates gloriously dirty, filthy sex and who’s looking at James with both knowledge and desire in his hooded eyes. My mouth’s a desert, and my throat rough gravel.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Aiden says, amusement threading through his words.
“Life’s been busy. Work, amongst other things.”
