Everything was going as planned until Kat walked out, and it all went out the window.
I’d said dinner was cocktail attire mostly because I enjoyed seeing Kat dressed up, but that had certainly come back to bite me now.
Her shoulders are entirely on display, her hair up in a clip at the back of her head, small curls hanging down and just barely reaching the soft skin of her shoulders. The dress is black with tiny sleeves that cover only her upper biceps, hugging her waist and flaring out slightly to stop just over the knee in the front and behind her knee in the back.
It’s modest but also somehow not. Somehow she makes it look sinful, as if she’s simply wearing lingerie, but I think that has more to do with her than the dress she’s wearing.
“Damn, you sure we need to eat?” Des asks me as we move into the dining room, and I smirk but shake my head.
“It smells delicious,” Kat says, breathing in the scents of the food that are now making their way around the house.
It does smell great. I’d ordered from my favorite restaurant, which happens to be the best around, but she doesn’t need to know that, so long as she enjoys it.
Des sighs but follows her toward the dining room. He might not want to eat food right now, the same as the rest of us, I’m sure, but if that’s what Kat wants, that’s what she’ll get.
It’s a good thing she’s the type of woman she is; all she would have to do is simply ask, and we would give her anything in theworld, but she never would, not beyond simple things that seem like child’s play.
Everyone gathers around the table, sitting and pouring drinks as Alex pulls Kat’s chair out, gesturing for her to sit. The smile on her face tells me we need to do better with these shows of affection, even if simply pulling out a chair for her can leave her flustered and blushing.
I watch her move toward the chair, her eyes fixed on the floor as every one of us tracks her every move as if unable to help ourselves.
“Kat,” I call out before I can think better of it, making her pause, her head snapping up so that her green eyes meet mine, wide and beautiful.
I hold my hand out to her without a word, and her tongue darts out to wet her bright red lips as if in thought. She looks from my hand to my face, and whatever she finds there seems to be enough to make her move, stepping away from the chair to rest her hand in mine, her eyes fixed on mine.
I lead her toward me, walking her right into my chest before I spin her around, pressing her back to my front. My cock throbs at the feel of her, so close, and I drop her hand, wrapping my hand around her waist, the thin material of her dress not helping me focus.
“You look…” I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck, and watching as goosebumps erupt over her skin, unable to fight the smile that pulls at my lips. It’s becoming a common occurrence around her, and I find I don’t hate it.
“Delicious.”
“Sinful,” Alex says with me, and he’s not wrong. There’s a whole list of words that could describe her, though the one at the top of the list isn't one either of us said. I know we're all thinking it.
“Sit with me.” I sit, pulling her with me before she can protest, not that I think she will. I see the jealousy flare in my brother’s eyes, and I know he’s kicking himself for not thinking of taking her on his lap.
Instead, he lets himself fall into the chair he’d pulled out for her, to my right. He knows me well enough to know I’m up to something, and by the way he watches her, I’m assuming he’s on the right track.
She wiggles, no doubt feeling my hard length press against her ass. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just…” She nods toward the chair to Alex’s right, now empty, and I hear the soft tremble in her voice.
“I’m positive.” I lean in, letting my lips brush against the exposed skin of her shoulder, loving the feel of her softness.
She huffs but doesn’t push, and when I look up, I find every eye on us, as if the table isn’t spread with food, not that I blame them.
“We will have dinner, and then we have a few things that need to be discussed as a family.”
That seems to break everyone from their thoughts and remind them of the food.
“I’m not sure what half of this is,” Kat says, sounding a bit sheepish.
“We have Margherita pizza, Carbonara pasta, Osso Buco, lasagna, Orecchiette con Cime di Rapa, La Sardella, Saltimbocca, and for dessert we have tiramisu and cannolis, which are my favorites. Well, other than you.” Des grins at her, pointing to each dish as he names them, snagging a cannoli and shoving the whole thing into his mouth with a groan that makes Kat laugh.
Cannolis are one of the few things we have back in the States that aren’t too far from the authentic taste we know from Madreand Padre, yet he acts as if he’s gone years without them every time we visit.
“And of course the wine.” Alex lifts his glass so she can see the deep-red liquid sloshing inside.
“And what’s this?” Kat leans forward to grab my own glass, holding it up to examine.
“Negroni.” I force the word out despite my attention being… elsewhere.
