“Yes, Em. I’ve tied up a couple former lovers in my younger, wilder days. So…bondage is now on the table. Good to know. What else should we add to our list?”
“This is a list? I thought it was a game and we were just chatting about sexual fantasies.”
“It’s a list,” Padraig insisted. “So keep going.”
“Fine. The heroes in my books are typically alpha males, guys who take charge in the bedroom.”
Padraig toyed with the stem of his wineglass. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Obviously. Considering the fact I’m sitting here without any panties on.”
Padraig reached under the table and touched her knee. His hand didn’t drift any higher. Probably because he’d already confirmed her panty-less state back at her apartment.
The moment she’d opened the door, he’d pushed her inside, closed the door, and pressed her against it, kissing her as if he hadn’t seen her in months rather than the few hours they’d separated this afternoon to prepare for their date.
He’d kissed her so senseless, she hadn’t realized his hand had drifted under her skirt until his fingers grazed her bare ass. She’d gasped, then moaned when he’d run his fingertips along her embarrassingly wet slit, pleased to discover she’d done exactly as he’d asked.
Padraig removed his hand when the waiter returned to take their orders, and she was sorry when he didn’t return it after the man left.
“Your turn,” she whispered.
Padraig leaned closer. “I plan to expand on that spanking we toyed with last night, only next time, I’m taking you over my knee. I also want to initiate every room in both of our apartments. I’ll bend you over the kitchen counters, the couches, the dining room tables, and take you from behind. You’re going to give me blowjobs in both of our showers, and I’m going to go down on you on the living room floors. I want to use every single one of your sex toys on you. We’re going to experiment with anal—and I want you to give me your damn pen name because I intend for us to role-play every fictional couple you’ve ever created.”
Emmy sat still, stunned into silence as she let herself imagine Padraig doing each and every thing he described.
When she failed to speak after several moments, Padraig laughed quietly. “Have I scared you off?”
She quickly shook her head. “Not at all.”
“And now that I’ve confessed all that, I’m wondering if I can convince you that we should ask the waiter to pack up the food we just ordered as takeout so we can go back to my place and get started on that list tonight. I think we could put one hell of a dent in it.”
“Tonight?” Not that Emmy wasn’t willing to give it the college try, but damn…it was a heck of a list.
He reached across the table and took her hand. “I find myself very impatient when it comes to what I want to do with—and to—you.”
“Can we take turns feeding each other?” she asked.
“Actually, I have something else in mind.” Padraig raised his hand to call the waiter over, requesting their meals be boxed up and reassuring the man that nothing was wrong. He lied, claiming there was a small emergency at home. Fifteen minutes later, they were in Padraig’s car and headed to his place.
“This is insane,” Emmy said with a laugh. “How did this date get so out of control?”
Padraig winked at her. “You drive me wild, Em, and I like it.”
They parked outside Padraig’s apartment, and he held her hand as they climbed the stairs to his place. He handed her the bag of food. “Why don’t you dip that out onto plates while I take Seamus out real quick? I have no intention of leaving this apartment for the rest of the night once we get started.”
Emmy took the bag with a grin. “I like the sound of that.”
Padraig grabbed Seamus’s leash and they headed out together. Emmy started for the kitchen but detoured briefly when her gaze landed upon a wall of pictures in the living room. She’d been to Padraig’s apartment loads of times and she’d seen all of his framed photos before.
He hadn’t changed any of the pictures since she’d known him, even though she’d given him several new ones as gifts. Just this Christmas, she’d given him a framed photo she’d snapped of him with his Pop Pop at the pub a few weeks before the fire. Glancing around, she didn’t see it—or the one of Seamus she’d given Padraig on his birthday, or any of the others for that matter—and she briefly wondered what he’d done with them.
Then she studied the pictures that were still there, unsure why she felt compelled to look at them again. Perhaps because she was perusing the pictures through different eyes as she now knew the stories behind them. Every photograph on the wall included Mia.
Emmy smiled sadly when she saw the selfie of Padraig and Mia standing before the Hogwarts Castle at Universal because she now knew about the horrible migraine that had ravaged Mia later that same night. Her heart panged when she saw the panoramic of Paris, and she recalled Padraig’s wish that he’d been able to freeze time right there in that moment. She hoped there might come a time when he’d wish the same thing for them. And then there was the one of Padraig and Mia on their wedding day.
Emmy forced herself away from the photos, walking into the kitchen. She grabbed some plates, dipping out their food. It smelled delicious. She left them on the counter and returned to the living room, allowing her hopes for the night to play out in her mind.
Emmy let the romance writer inside her take over as she closed her eyes, setting the scene. Reaching for a blanket that hung on the back of the couch, she spread it out over the floor, then tossed a couple of throw pillows on top. She turned off the overhead light, opting to illuminate the room with just one lamp.
Returning to the kitchen, she was touched to find a bottle of her favorite Chardonnay in his refrigerator. She uncorked it and poured a glass before popping the top on a bottle of Guinness for Padraig.
She heard Seamus and Padraig return, then she listened as he led the dog down the hall to his bedroom before meeting her in the kitchen.
“Thought we might enjoy our meal more if we didn’t have that mutt of mine sitting next to us on the floor, begging.”
She giggled. “I thought you were working on training him.”
“I think you and I both know I’m shit when it comes to disciplining that dog. He’s got me wrapped around his paw.”
She and Padraig had had countless conversations about his untrained dog. Emmy had forwarded him information about a dog training course he could sign up for, but Padraig hadn’t bothered. He’d confessed last week that his hesitance was based on the fact Seamus had actually been part of Mia’s bucket list, her desire to own a “badly behaved” dog. It was the first time she’d understood his reluctance, even though she hadn’t realized how deep Padraig’s desire ran to keep things just as they’d been with Mia.
Her thoughts drifted to the photos again, to the fact he’d never changed them.
Padraig reached for their drinks, while she grabbed the utensils and plates. It wasn’t until he lifted his hands that she realized he was holding something else.
“What is that for?” she asked about the necktie as they walked to the living room together.