So relaxed.
He's dressed in a dark-blue shirt and black vest tonight, looking like a powerful young man. Resting his thick tattooed arm on top of the seat, he plays with my hair and neck as we watch the live jazz band on stage. I sip my port while Max nurses a whiskey. I've never been here before, but Max knew that I'd love it due to the music and, of course, the elaborate menu.
It reminds me of a 1950s club where live music and fine dining collide. It's loud, active, vibrant, and classy. The Minister for Agriculture is sitting a booth over from us. It's a scene.
It'selite,I suppose.
And fun.
My favourite Frank Sinatra song comes on—The Way You Look Tonight. Max keeps his fingers moving on my shoulder and neck and hair. I glance at him, and he grins at me andmouths the words in time to the song. I'm in heaven. If I could feel any more love right now, I'd die of a heart attack.
Max's nose touches my ear. His breath cascades over my neck, making my skin hot. While I'm trying to concentrate on the music, his tongue feathers the shell of my ear. My knees press together at the exact time he turns towards me. His left hand slides between my thighs and hikes my knee up onto the cushion. Fingers move inside my knickers. Up into me.
"Max. No," I whisper, smiling and breathless.
I turn my back to the other tables, hiding his hand and my face from everyone's view. He fingers me slowly, curling in the right spot. I try to pretend it's not happening, but I want to drop my head onto his shoulder and moan.
His fingers move around, touching every sensitive spot as if he has a road map for each nerve ending. Oh God, I can't restrain myself. Shamelessly, I roll my hips into his fingers, taking more of what I need from them.
I'm halfway through a soft moan when he jerks his hand from between my legs. His knuckles hit the underside of the table, rattling glasses. Startled, I look up at him, but he's glaring over my shoulder. Cheeks burning, I glance over to see a man standing behind me, shuffling nervously beside our table. I hurriedly turn my eyes back to Max.
"Sorry, Max," the man begins. "But there's someone I think you'll want to see in the cigar lounge."
Max holds the arch of my neck. "Are you fucking crazy? Can't you see I'm here with my girl?"
"You'll want to see him," he presses.
"I don't!" Max puts the two fingers that were just inside me into his mouth and sucks on them, all the while glowering at this other man. I am not sure if the man knows what Max was doing but I cover my face with my palms,smothering a mortified smile. I peak through my fingers at Max. He grins at me and I shake my head with a giggle.
Menace.
Max then dips those two fingers into his whiskey, swirls them around, and drains the glass. "I've got better things to do. Go get me another drink."
Shuffling nervously, the guy presses, "You told me to look out for him... Remember? When you got back?—"
"Yeah alright. Alright. Fine. Send Nina over here to sit with Cassidy."
My heart jumps into my throat. "Max, no. Where are you going?"
He tries to scoot me from the booth so he can leave. "I won't be long. Five minutes."
I refuse to move. "Don't. I don't want you to." I prepare myself for a scolding, but instead he once again glowers at the man behind me. With quick steps, the man walks away, leaving us alone. Max's expression is soft and playful now, and I have all of his attention.
His hand massages my neck and shoulder. "Five minutes, Little One."
"No." I shake my head. "What could you possibly need to do right now?"
He grins at me and tilts his head. "Little One, I'll be five minutes. How much trouble can I cause in that time? Clock me."
I roll my eyes. "Fine,Menace. But then you have to dance with me."
"Do you think I wasn't already going to?"
"Really? You were going to dance with me? In front of everyone?"
"Why are you surprised? I'm a fucking majestic dancer."
I laugh and he slides out from the table. As he follows theother man into a room behind the bar, I sigh. He knows exactly how to work me.
