"Make sure you know who you're loving though, babe," I tell her, eyeing Drake. "Not everyone is as innocent as you."
"Oh?" Natalie asks with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not really that innocent, you know."
I smile at her and she smiles back. And then there's a cough.
Again, the world intrudes. In the form of fucking Drake Carlton.
"Well, Sloane, I hope you have a pleasant evening," Drake says to me. "As you can see, we've already begun ours."
I look over at Drake for the first time. He's staring at me. With his arm still on Natalie's knee. She doesn't remove it. But she's not encouraging it, either.
She's waiting to see who's gonna win her.
"Are you leaving soon?" Drake asks again. I can tell he's starting to get exasperated with my presence.
Good.
"Oh, I just got here, Dad," I say with a fucking smarmy ass smile. "I'm not leaving here for a good, long time."
"Well, good," Drake says, his eyes becoming steely. Fuck this man if he thinks I'm just going to fucking leave and let him proceed uninterrupted.
"I'll be next to the terrace windows," I say to them both. "Catching up on some emails."
Then I look to Natalie.
"Can't wait to catch up with you tomorrow, sis," I say. I can see her cheeks flush. She's thinking of what's going to happen.
Whatever happens here tonight, tomorrow will hang over her head.
Make her wonder what else is coming.
Fuck Drake if he thinks he got to her first.
This game has just but fucking begun.6Drake"Can't wait to catch up with you tomorrow, sis," Sloane yells out, and I can't help but smile as I watch him retreat with his tail between his legs.
What was he thinking, coming here unannounced? Racquetball my fucking ass.
I don't know who he thought he was kidding.
He's outmatched. It's almost too easy. He's a naïve kid trying to maneuver in a grown man's game. The sooner he realizes this, the better off he'll be.
He'll quickly see that he's playing a losing strategy.
My hand is still resting on Natalie's leg, and I move it to her hair, brushing a few blonde strands behind her ear. "Where were we?" I ask, smiling.
"We were talking about something … Dirty," she smiles back.
"Of course, Dirty Lil' Angels."
I watch as she takes a careful sip of her wine, but before we can talk business, our waiter approaches, placing a half dozen chilled, raw oysters in front of us.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she asks.
"I like secrets."
"I've never eaten a raw oyster before."
"I find that hard to believe."
"It's true. I'm a little … nervous," she laughs. There's an innocence hidden in her laugh and it makes my heart kick in my chest. I want to pull her close to me and allow myself to get drunk on her smell alone.
"You know what they say about oysters …" I smile, and she nods. I squeeze a wedge of lemon on them and watch their flesh ripple from the acidity. I reach for Natalie's hand. It's delicate, smaller than I remember, and the realization of it makes my cock twitch. "Here, take this fork."
She grabs it tenderly and follows my lead.
"Move it around like this, in its own juice," I say, her hand still in mind, and together we give the oyster a gentle swirl. "So that it's not still attached to the shell."
"It looks so weird," she says, scrunching her nose. For a split second, I see her as a child again.
"Trust me," I reply, locking my eyes on hers. "Tasting this is an experience you won't soon forget."
I take the fork from her hand and replace it with the shell of the oyster.
"Here, hold it." I watch as she grabs it with the tips of her perfectly manicured fingers, the scarlet polish on her nails flashing against the cold grey of the shell. I lean in close, speaking just above a whisper, making sure my breath brushes against her neck.
I know, from some corner of this building, that Sloane is watching, and for a reason that I can't exactly explain, the thought of that makes me fucking hard.
"Go ahead. Slurp it down."
She begins to part her lips, bringing it to her mouth, but I stop her. "Not that end," I say. "Turn it around. That way, it slides right in."
"Do I chew it?"
"Just once. But you really just want to take it down your throat," I say, a grin forming across my lips.
She returns the smile, and raises it back to her lips. I watch as her pink, moist lips part again, and she places the edge of the shell to her mouth. She tilts her head back, exposing her slender throat to me, and for a second, I imagine dragging my tongue across its soft surface, and resting it against her pulse. I wonder how fast her heart is beating, and what she tastes like.