“Avery, I feel exactly the same way.”
The rest of the car trip is silent but I do shuffle closer to him. Only a hair’s width separating us, my hand traces circles on his knee, brazenly going higher and higher each time. Before I do something stupid, like straddle his lap and ravage him, we pull up to the restaurant. Flynn climbs out first, and offers me his hand.
As I step out, he says, “I hope you like steak.” Looking up, I smile when I see we are at Rococo’s Steakhouse, the finest steakhouse this side of Texas. We head toward the entrance, before he opens the door, I tug on his hand, stopping him. He turns to look to me. I smirk at him, leaning into him I whisper into his ear, “I love a big juicy piece of meat.” Stepping back, I wink before I step past him and open the door to the restaurant.
He shakes his head at me and enters the restaurant behind me. We make our over to the maître d's station. “Good evening, welcome to Rococo’s Steakhouse.”
“Good evening. Reservation for Kelly.”
“Welcome, Mr. Kelly. Your table is ready, if you’d like to follow me.”
Flynn laces his fingers with mine and we follow the maître d’ into the restaurant. I’ve never been here before and this place is gorgeous. When you enter there’s rich wooden flooring that leads into the restaurant, where it changes to a deep plush burgundy carpet. The tables are dark in color, the chairs are a chocolate brown with studded accents and burgundy cushioning. Each table has a candle for ambience. The overhead lighting is dim but enough that you can still see. The kitchen it open and you can see inside. It’s a hive of activity right now, pots clanging, steaks sizzling. The chef barking orders to the staff. Next to the kitchen is the bar which runs the length of the building. The front of the restaurant is floor-to-ceiling glass and the view of the city is spectacular.
Arriving at our table, Flynn pulls out my chair for me. “Thank you kind, sir.”
He lowers down and whispers, “Don’t thank me, I totally did that so I could see down your dress.”
Playfully I smack his arm. “You fiend.”
“Only for you,” he replies, before he makes his way over to his chair. My eyes watch him. Even though he’s tall and massive, he moves with the grace of a ballerina. He winks at me and I realize I’m in way over my head. Flynn Kelly is going to be the death of me…and I cannot wait.
15
Flynn
Sitting across from Avery is hard…much like my dick right now. This woman is unbelievably sexy, and what makes her even more so, is the fact she is oblivious to how gorgeous she is. Right now, I want to be sitting next to her so I can caress and touch her. She smiles and it lights her face up, her eyes sparkle. It’s in this moment I decide that sitting across from her isn’t so bad after all. I can bask in her beauty and continue to check her out. Glancing around the restaurant, I look at everyone else, and no woman here compares to Avery. I just hope my cock decides to behave himself before I have to stand up.
“Flynn?” she yells, my eyes snap to hers. Her face is etched with concern.
Shaking my head to clear it, I question, “Sorry, what?”
“I asked, what do you recommend?”
With a grin, I saucily reply, “You…from memory.”
Her cheeks tinge a sexy shade of pink. She bites her bottom lip. “I meant on the menu.”
“Are you on the menu?” I tease.
She stares at me before leaning forward, giving me a stunning view down her dress. Her tits press together and I want the bury my face between them. They are looking mighty fine encased in satin, which so happens to match her dress, I can’t wait to see that bra on my floor. She licks her lips before seductively whispering, “Maybe I can be your dessert later.”
Cock.
Painfully.
Hard.
Again.
“You are a sexy little minx, Avery Evans. I’m totally holding you to that AND yes, for dessert I’m going to feast on you like I would a double chocolate fudge sundae. Every inch of you will be licked with my tongue and inspected with my fingers. When I’ve had my fill, I’ll fuck you with my cock into the wee hours of the morning.” He pauses. “I suggest you order the surf and turf…you are going to need your energy.”
Her eyes pop open at my brashness and her cheeks darken my favorite shade of ‘aroused pink.’ She audibly gasps and swallows deeply. Her eyes become molten and I know she’s thinking about what’s coming after dinner. She goes to open her mouth in reply but the arrival of our waiter halts that conversation. She’s flustered as she places her order, watching her squirm is quite entertaining. This woman continues to intrigue me.
As I watch her with the waiter, I grin to myself at how lucky I am to be here with this woman. I’m glad her sister hurt herself, as bad as that sounds, I mean it in the nicest possible way because it led me back to Avery and this time, I’m not letting her get away.
Dinner passes by quickly and smoothly, and thankfully, my cock has returned to normal. We laughed, lots, and the conversation flowed, as did the wine. There were no awkward silences. Avery and I get along surprisingly well, considering our vast differences. There is no more sexy talk but quite a few sexual innuendos are shared.
Every now and again, I’d feel her foot sliding up my calf; little minx that she is. The evening is easy and relaxed. It’s utterly perfect. We finish the bottle of wine and the waiter appears. “Can I entice either of you with dessert?”
Avery’s cheeks darken at the mention of dessert. I’m about to ask for the sticky toffee pudding when she beats me to the punch. “I think we’re fine on the dessert front,” she moves her gaze to me and adds, “you don’t have what I would like on the menu.” Again, she bites her lip and my cock begins to harden once again.
“Tea or coffee then?” the waiter asks, oblivious to the flirting and innuendoes floating around.
“Just the check, thanks,” I answer.
“Certainly, sir.” The waiter leaves and it’s just the two of us again. The air is crackling right now. Avery lifts her hand and runs her fingers across her chest, up her neck before biting on her fingertip.
“Avery,” I warn. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to throw you over this table and have my dessert right here.”
“I’m down with that,” she playfully replies.
“Minx,” I say, as I pull my phone out and message the car service to pick us up. Once the message is sent, I look over to her. “Let’s go.” We stand up and make our way to the maître d’. Being a gentleman, I let her go before me. My eyes rake over her backside. “Fuck, that ass,” I appreciatively whisper. It’s obviously louder than I intended because she glances at me over her shoulder, winks, and then turns around, adding an extra sway to her hips. I settle the bill, to which she offers to go halves on. “No, I asked you out, therefore it’s on me.”
She nods but I can tell she’s uncomfortable with that. She’s the first woman to ever offer to pay after we’ve eaten, that gesture adds to her amazingness. She cups my cheek in her palm, her thumb gently caressing my jaw. “Thank you for dinner,” she says, before kissing me on the cheek and turning to exit the restaurant.