“Ask you what?”
“The question that’s all over your face, little lamb.”
I fiddled with the napkin in my lap. “Well, it’s not really my business—”
“Isn’t it?”
Looking up, I saw the unflinching honesty in his eyes, but I still hesitated.
“Jesse, I plan to be inside you by the end of the night, so if it’s not your business tonight, then I don’t know a more appropriate time.”
My eyes widened, and then I let out a nervous chuckle. Would I ever stop being surprised by the things that came out of his mouth? “Do you…come here alone, or… I mean, do you bring all your dates here?”
“No, I don’t. And I also told you I don’t date.”
“Then what do you call this?”
“A first time for everything.”
My smile gave away exactly how I felt about his answer, as the waiter returned with a bottle of Malbec. He proceeded to uncork it, and then he poured a small amount for Salvatore to taste. Salvatore kept his eyes on mine as he lifted the glass to his nose, and then he took a sip of the wine, and as he swirled it in his mouth, my gaze dropped down to his lips. I wouldn’t mind tasting the wine that way…
Salvatore swallowed, and when my eyes caught the movement, he smirked. “I think this’ll do nicely, Alexei,” he said, placing his glass back on the table and running his fingers up and down the stem. When our glasses were filled, he held his up, and I followed his lead. “To getting to know each other better.”
I nodded as he touched his glass to mine, and he held my gaze as I lifted the wine to my lips. The taste was bitter, and I only managed a small sip before setting it back on the table. Okay, that one is going to take some getting used to.
“Something wrong with the wine?”
“Oh, uh… No, it’s fine.”
“Try again.”
I blushed and fingered the edge of my napkin. “Well, I don’t really drink a lot of wine.”
“Ah. So it’s not to your taste?”
Uh, not at all. How awkward to admit I didn’t have the palate for a super-expensive wine and would prefer dollar drafts at one of the pubs I went to when I had spare change. “I’m sure it’s great, but it might take some getting used to.”
Salvatore fingered the lip of the glass. “That’s a shame. Red wine pairs so nicely with the lamb I’m going to eat later.”
Ah, yes, there it is. The heat that rose to Jesse’s cheeks any time I mentioned my…appetite was something to behold. His virtue was beguiling and sent the blood straight to my cock.
“You can’t keep saying things like that,” he said, looking down again.
“I can do and say whatever I like. Especially when I know how much you enjoy it. Tell me, are you hard right now?”
“What?” Jesse looked around at the other diners and then back at me.
“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”
“You might want to keep your voice down or we’ll get kicked out.”
I chuckled. “No, we won’t.”
“How do you know? I’m sure it’s a rule, like indecent exposure or something, but with words.”
“Because I own the building, and if I wanted to fuck you right here on the table, they still wouldn’t throw me out.”
The expression on Jesse’s face at that comment was a mix of shock and scandal, and hell if I didn’t want to do exactly what I’d just proposed.
“You, uh… What?” he said as he blinked and shook his head.
“I own the building. I own this restaurant. I own every one of these lovely staff members due to the handsome paycheck I give them every two weeks, and at the museum gala the other night, you agreed that I own you. So, Jesse, I’m going to ask you one last time. Are you hard right now?”
Jesse shifted in his seat, and I already knew the answer. But I wanted him to say it. I wanted the young man opposite me to be comfortable in his own body so when I finally got my hands on him, he wasn’t second-guessing himself.
“Yes,” he said so softly that I barely heard it.
I stretched my legs under the table, put a foot between his, and kicked lightly at one of his ankles. “I didn’t hear you. Speak up, Jesse, unless you want me to find out for myself.”
Jesse hesitated, and I thought for a moment the little lamb might shock me, but then he seemed to shake himself out of the trance and answered. “Yes. I’m hard right now.”
Without looking away from him, I picked up my glass, took a sip, then asked, “And why are you hard?”
I could see his chest rise and fall as he continued to hold my stare. “Because I like the way you talk to me.”