She shook her head vigorously. “There’s no way your favorite food is Oreos.”
“And why not?” I said, reaching out my hand to her.
She slid her fingers into mine and we were moving once again.
“First of all, you made a culinary masterpiece with those muffins. I thought I was going to get off when I tasted them. They were pure fucking sin.” She chuckled. “I’ve deduced you can at least bake if not also cook, so you have to have a more refined palette than Oreos.”
I cocked an eyebrow in her direction. “People can like Oreos, and like more complex flavors, ma’am. Are you the gatekeeper on who’s allowed to like junk food?”
This got a full-on laugh. “No, but still. Second point, Oreos are the favorites of five-year-olds. No adult who’s had steak, pasta, or literally any food would think, ‘Hmm, I’d like to eat an Oreo instead of all the other amazing things there are to eat in the world.’”
“Go ahead, keep telling me how ridiculous I am. I can take it.” I winked.
Her next words were a whisper, and I could only make out “mine.”
“What did you say?” I asked in confusion.
Raven sighed and turned to me. “How can Oreos be your favorite when they are alsomyfavorite?” Her cheeks flushed at the confession.
I blinked at her, not believing my ears. “They’re your favorite, too?” I asked incredulously. “There’s no way that you, Ms. Proper Business Lady who probably eats lobster for dinner everyday, likes to eat Oreos at all, let alone prefer them to something like crème brûlée.”
She scoffed and began walking again, this time leaving me behind. “Now who’s gatekeeping,” she muttered.
I hurried to catch up to her, sensing a shift in her mood. “Hey, Raven, wait. I didn’t mean anything by that.” Dread filled my chest at the thought of ruining the night for her. I couldn’t fuck this up. Not now.
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, her head barely turning as she matched her pace to mine, then gave a small laugh. “It’s all right, I’m great. Now, where are you taking me?”
“Ryan,this is way too much. You didn’t have to do all of this,” Raven peered around the balcony, the glittering fairy lights glinting in her green eyes. “It must have cost a fortune to rent out the entire veranda.” She turned to me, her eyes piercing. “This is the most expensive restaurant in the city. We could have easily ordered pizza at my apartment.”
I stared at her, unsure why she was making a big deal about the gesture. Surely the men she was used to did things like this for her all the time. She knew I could afford it, so why was she being modest?
“Come on, babe, don’t hurt my pride. I wanted to make an impression. It is our first date, after all.” I winked.
Raven strode across the concrete like a dark angel coming to claim my soul. When she reached me she traced a finger over the collar of my shirt then down the lapel of my jacket. Her voice dropped an octave. “What about the impression you made when you pretended to interview at my office, and instead fucked me with your tongue on my conference room table until I screamed?” I sucked in air as she leaned in and brought her lips to my ear. Her breath was hot against my skin, and her filthy words were an electric current through my body. “Or what about the impression made when you broke into my apartment and slipped your chain around my neck and fucked my face? You didn’t seem to be concerned with impressions then.”
She smirked and stepped back, leaving me desperate for her. She was a vixen, and I wanted to chase her.
Regaining my composure, I smirked right back. “Maybe that was the intended impression.”
I stepped forward and reached for her luscious hips, pulling her back to me. “Maybe…” I whispered into her hair, after her body crashed into mine. “Maybe I wanted to show you more of who I am and what I like. You might be a queen, but you’re mine. I do what I want with things that are mine.”
She gasped as I released her and moved toward the lone table. “Shall we?” I said, looking at her stunned form standing a few feet away. “I have many other plans for you tonight, so let’s begin the finale to your day, darling.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Raven
“I’ll havethe roast chicken breast with the sauteed vegetables,” I said, closing the menu and placing it on the side of the table in front of the waiter.
Ryan looked up at me from the leather-bound list he held, his features curious. His eyes speared into me like I had ordered cow balls or something. The waiter cleared his throat.
“For you, sir?” he asked.
Ryan’s gaze never left me as he flipped the menu closed and handed it to the waiter. “The Wagyu filet mignon. Medium. Grilled asparagus. Thank you.”
My cheeks flushed as I looked up and gave the waiter a small smile. Ryan’s gaze was still on me when I looked back to him, but it was more quizzical. He leaned back in his chair with his elbow resting on the arm, and his fingers framing his face. His posture was like a high-class billionaire trying to size up his competition and his delicious suit only added to the persona.
“You ordered one of the least expensive items on the menu. You fussed over the limo and restaurant. Why, Raven?”
