Page 49 of Crave

I wrinkled my nose at him. “I don’t need to think about that. You’re the one who takes your work home with you. All finance and figures and obsession. I don’t dream about, like,marketing solutions.”

“Fine. You’re thinking you’re going to take the last cookie.” He nodded toward the plate of amaretti on the table.

Snagging the lone cookie, I took a bite and beamed at him. “That’s already a given.”

“You’re thinking that you’re my princess, but you’re on your way to earning a spanking tonight.”

That got us a glare from the next table. My cheeks flushed. “Getting warmer, Patrick.”

“Am I?” His hand found my knee and slid up my thigh. I snapped my legs together, trapping his hand between them. “Mmm, yeah. I think I am.”

I laughed, suddenly breathless. “Dirty boy.” I held out the half-eaten cookie. He gobbled it and nipped at my fingers.

“Hmmm. You’re thinking that the next time your mom calls to ‘discuss’ the wedding, you’re going to let me carry you off and make you an honest woman…” He smirked at me. “…Without the benefit of a hundred and fifty people watching.”

“Honestly? I’m about this close to letting you do that.” I held my fingers an inch apart. “But no. The next time she calls, I’ll just put you on the phone. Shelovesyou. She’s the only person you even try to charm.”

He squeezed my leg. “Watch it, girl.”

“I’m thinking…” I leaned across the table. “…About our wedding night.”

His brows lifted. With his free hand, the one that wasn’t trapped between my legs, he laced his fingers through mine.

“It’ll be our first time,” I whispered. “As a married couple. It’s a big deal.”

“Oh?” His mouth quirked in a half-grin. “You want me to carry you across the threshold? Worship you with rose petals? Pop a cork on the champagne?”

I toyed with my wine glass, watching him. “I wouldn’t drink alone on our wedding night.”

And Patrick wouldn’t drink at all. He hadn’t touched alcohol in years.

His face turned serious. “You want all that, don’t you, love? I want you to be happy.”

My breath caught. Grand gestures were not Patrick’s love language.

“Yeah, I guess I do. But I also want you to be yourself. I want us to be Patrick and Christina.” I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a whisper. “And I want the wolf.”

“Are you sure?”

Something in his deep voice made me shiver.

“Yes.”

“On your wedding night?”

I nodded, excitement suddenly heating my body, welling between my legs.

“You want a lot, Christina.” His voice took on the cool tones that promised pulling back the curtain on dark delights. “I always knew you were a greedy girl.”

“I want champagne and rose petals, but I also want you to be mean.” I bit my lip, widening my eyes. Would Patrick say no? “I want you to have your way with me.”

“You should be careful what you wish for.”

Squirming on the cafe chair, I squeezed my thighs together. Patrick’s hand still pressed between them. Rubbing the soft flesh, pinching it. My pussy ached, and my stomach was doing flip-flops.

“Get up, girl.” The quiet command got me instantly to my feet. “We’re going home. Let’s find out if this is really what you want.”

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