Page 49 of Until Posey

“Christ, I hope not, Mara. Hugo dropped a shit ton of green for those modifications.”

I relaxed a little as I listened to their conversations while we walked to the back of the restaurant. Marabella showed us to one of the smaller rooms in the back. I knew they existed, but I’d never had the pleasure of experiencing the luxury of having a private dining room.

“Thank you,” I said, finally finding my voice.

Hunter’s heated, assessing gaze stayed on me. Even though I refused to meet his questioning eyes. He pulled out the chair for me, and I sat murmuring my thanks.

“I didn’t fuck her, if that’s what you’re wondering, Posey.” Hunter took the seat beside me. It was all comfy in here. Small but roomy and very intimate. “Look at me.” My gaze swung to his as if he compelled me, and I couldn’t look away. “I know of my rep. I haven’t been a choirboy. Nor would I ever change my past. What I can tell you is that I’m a 36-year-old man who has never been married. And the few times I had a long-term girlfriend, I didn’t cheat.” He took my hand and gave a squeeze. “I’m all about us, Posey. Nothing else matters to me. Not even a jealous ex or two.”

I took his words to heart because I could hear the sincerity in his tone. That, and he was right. His past was his past, and I’d already judged him too harshly for it. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time.” I hoped my joke would break the tension in the room I caused with my insecurities.

He narrowed his eyes at me, cocking his head before saying, “I’m not one for overly long dialogues. I tend to be direct and say what I gotta say.”

I nodded. “I like that about you.”

“Are we good?”

I smiled at him, hoping he could see the truth in my expression. “Yes. I’m so—”

He held up his hand, stopping me. “I don’t want you to apologize, Posey. I want us to communicate and work through issues with conversations and not assumptions. Can we do that?”

“Yes.” I didn’t stop there. The words rushed from me as if I were puking them up, “I think you should know before I get in your bed tonight that I’m a virgin. I know it’s hard to believe that a woman at 28 could be, but here I am. Innocent as the day I was born.”Oh God...I cringed.

Oh, shut the hell up, Posey.

I jerked my hand from his and covered my face in embarrassment. I’d most likely just ruined anything sex-related withmyViking God. No doubt Hunter was trying to come up with a plan on how to exit stage left. I peeked through my fingers at him.

“Drop your hands from your beautiful face, Baby girl, and look at me.” His tone was so gentle and filled with compassion. I did as he asked, then twisted my fingers in the hem of my blouse. “Well played. I’m glad you said something while we were in public. I’m so fucking hard, I’m throbbing right now, Baby girl. Had you told me the truth back at your apartment, we wouldn’t have made it out the door. Fuck, I don’t care if it makes me sound like some possessive caveman. Your pussy is mine. Always.” I stared at him, trying to comprehend what he’d said, but my brain misfired. “You really thought I’d run?”

I hated not being able to hide how I was feeling, especially when I lacked confidence. “Maybe. A little, I suppose.”

“Far fuckin’ from it, Baby girl. The thought that...Fuck! Knowing I’m the first one to taste that sweet little cunt of yours, then fuck, what will undoubtedly be the best pussy in the whole damn world has me digging in deeper. Not running,” he murmured. “I’m honored, Posey.

My pussy clenched, and my clit throbbed at the rough, almost growly timbre of his voice. A throat cleared near the door of our private area, and we jumped, surprised. The server stepped farther into the room. I struggled to recall his name, but the server beat me to the punch.

“Good evening. My name is Joseph, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get either of you something from the bar?”

“Is the bar still serving Springtime Love? I had it the other night, and it was perfection.”

Joseph chuckled. “That can be arranged.”

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. “Can I also get a glass of water?”

The waiter bowed his head in acknowledgment. “And for you, sir?”

“Gin and tonic, with a twist of lime,” Hunter said.

Joseph nodded. “Are both of you aware of how dinner is served in the back rooms?” Hunter nodded, even though I was clueless. “Excellent, sir. Someone will be by to drop off the bread, and after I put your drink order in, I’ll be swinging by to drop off an arrangement of Amuse-bouchées for you to enjoy while you wait for your main courses.”

I waited until our waiter left before asking, “How does dinner work in the back rooms?”

Hunter chuckled. “It’s a tasting menu. We don’t order anything, they just bring us whatever the chef made. I guess I should’ve asked if that was okay?”

“Yes, but isn’t something like this expensive.” I had no clue how much he made, or even if the family business was secure. I wasn’t comfortable with him spending so much on me for a date.

He shrugged and gave her a saucy wink. “I have connections.” True. “Even if I didn’t, it’s not your job to worry about what I can and can’t pay for, but mine. So, I want you to sit back, have a good meal so we can enjoy each other’s company. Think you can do that, Posey?” I nodded, and he grinned at me. “Good girl.” Later, I needed to figure out why that term of endearment was like a balm to my tattered soul. It did things to me that no other two words combined could.

During the lull of conversations, a man who was not our server appeared with a selection of fancy breads and a tray of small bites of food. “Ireland is oddly fixated on the bread served here.” Hunter chuckled, taking a roll. “When she was pregnant with my nephew, Mack had to bring a bag home every night.”

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