Part of me is tempted to tease her some more, but my need for her overpowers it. I swipe my tongue once over her plump and pink lower lip before crushing my mouth against hers.
I’m addicted to this woman, to the way her body responds to mine. She pushes herself against me, and when I feel her soft, full breasts against my chest, I lower one hand down her back. Only the knowledge that we’re not ten feet away from her restaurant keeps me from palming her fine ass.
When I pull away, we both breathe raggedly.
“I’ve daydreamed all day about you kissing me like that,” she says in a low, throaty voice. She fists the hem of my shirt with both hands, licking her lips and clearly wanting a repeat. I kiss her forehead instead and she pouts. I love her playful side.
“You deserve to be teased for misleading me.”
“I only partly misled you.” Kissing the hollow of my neck, she whispers, “My panties are red and see-through.”
Then the little vixen winks and climbs in the passenger seat, keeping the take-out box in her lap. I fight the vision of her underwear while I walk to the driver seat, but once inside, with her scent filling the space, the vision changes into me lowering those panties with my teeth and burying myself between her legs.
Needing a distraction, I focus on her take-out box while gunning the engine and driving away.
“What’s in there?” I ask.
“I made you lemon tarts. Started them when you messaged me. Thought I’d surprise you by showing up at your place tonight.”
Hell, this woman is downright perfect. I love lemon tarts.
“Thanks.”
“I like taking care of you,” she says softly. In fact, she sounds almost shy, which is very unlike Alice. Glancing at her, I notice she’s fidgeting in her seat, casting her eyes downward as if she just shared a secret.
It strikes me that I’m not the only one who isn’t used to this kind of intimacy, to sharing my daily life with someone else. Alice has always been close to her family, but not to people outside of it. Still, she just went out on a limb with her confession, and even though I’ve no clue how to do this, going out on a limb with her feels natural.
“And I like taking care of you.” Taking her hand, I turn it palm up and kiss it. I swear she exhales so sharply, I wonder if she was holding her breath, waiting for my answer. “Hence the kidnapping.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see. Now open the box so I can eat those tarts.”
***
A little while later, we arrive at our destination. It’s a mom-and-pop shop with the best ice cream in San Francisco. I remembered Alice telling me a while ago how she hasn’t found ice cream as good as in Rome.
“Oh my God, this is delicious,” she exclaims after taking her first mouthful of the creamy treat. “Why didn’t I know about this place? It’s my duty to know who’s making the best treats. I’m going to tell Summer that Americans do it just as good as the Italians.”
She licks her overfilled cone with gusto and speed. She requested five scoops, and the server warned her four would be better or she’d have to eat quickly to keep it from melting. Alice assured him she was up to the task. This is Alice. She doesn’t do anything in halves. Since I’m already full of lemon tarts, I just bought one scoop, in a cup not a cone.
“Hate to break it to you, but the guy who owns the shop is Italian.”
“Damn. It’s on my list to hire an Italian chef anyway. Our dessert selection needs to step up the game. I’ll ask Summer to approve him. She’s constantly sending me pictures of the desserts she’s eating in Rome.”
We walk to the small park opposite the ice cream shop and sit on a bench. Even at this time of night, the park is buzzing with people: teenagers with skateboards, couples, street artists.
We’re silent for a few long minutes while we eat, and there’s something very relaxing about not needing to fill the silence, just being with each other. Predictably, I finish my one scoop before Alice has eaten even half of her top scoop.
I toss away my empty cup and then focus one hundred percent on her. A gust of wind blows and Alice snuggles against me on the bench, which was exactly what I was aiming for. It might be
the end of July, but you can always count on wind or fog in San Francisco, even in summer. Thank you, Mother Nature, for siding with me.
She smells like a sinful dream, her sweet and seductive perfume enticing me to kiss her neck and shoulders and other parts of her. I want to savor her.
Pushing her hair to one side, I lazily run my thumb up and down her neck, watching with satisfaction as she trembles slightly. It surprises me every time that she’s so responsive to me.
The temptation to pull her to me and kiss her, lose myself in her like I’ve wanted to all day, is strong. It would be only too easy to distract her. But like the good guy I am, I let her enjoy her dessert first.