That threw me. My eyes widened at her question. "That's pretty... hard to answer, really. I mean, a man sees porn like a glutton sees a smorgasbord. It's hard to choose and pretty much anything is tasty. It's all food. Well, except the illegal stuff, but I don't go there."
She rested her chin on her hand and batted her eyelashes. "Give me one thing that you go back to over and over."
I laughed and leaned back, surprised but charmed by her forthrightness. "I should be like my father and say I don't need to look at porn because I have dozens of women willing to take part in a pas de deux with me. He made that argument to me once when he found me watching porn on the internet and I challenged him about what he watched. Except, he said he didn't look at porn because he had my mother, which made me go all gross."
"Gross? You thought your mother was gross?"
"No, I mean, I thought my parents having sex was gross. When he found me, I was eleven and thought that married people only had sex to procreate."
She nodded. "A good Catholic, are you?"
"A failed Catholic, actually."
She folded her arms and looked at me pointedly. "Your favorite go-to porn. Chop chop."
"Chop chop?" I said, stalling for time. What did I like that I felt comfortable sharing? "I like watching," I said keeping my voice as low as possible, "when a woman uses a dildo and makes herself orgasm."
She raised her eyebrows. "Voyeur, are you?"
"A bit."
"Why?" she asked, leaning closer. "What do you like about it?"
I tilted my head to the side, considering. "I like to see a woman's desire. Her need. I like to see her fulfilled."
The waitress came to our table to take a drink order, interrupting our little conversation and I hoped that was it with the intimate questions.
"Feel like some Italian red to go along with the meatballs?" I asked.
"Sure," she replied.
I turned to the waitress. "Tell your bartender to pick a red for us. We'll be having the spaghetti and meatballs."
The waitress smiled and left us.
I turned to her, trying to shift the line of questioning from my porn preferences to anything else.
"I'm glad you decided to come," I said and leaned in closer."
"Tell me more about you," she said and picked up one of the breadsticks, her lips closing over the end of it in all-too suggestive way that made my mind go to her sliding my dick into her mouth instead. Then she bit down-- hard and chewed, smiling.
She knew what she did to me. I smiled to myself. She was playful. And a bit of a tease.
I liked it.
"I'm Joshua Macintyre Jr, oldest brother of five. I'm the one who obeyed all the rules and always asked permission, while my younger siblings broke all the rules and asked for forgiveness," I said with a laugh, because it was true. "I'm the responsible one. The one everyone can count on to do the right thing."
She nodded and her gaze moved over my face. "Why do you think your fiancée cheated on you?"
That set me back a bit. "Wow." I actually physically leaned back in my chair. "Let me think." I bit my bottom lip and narrowed my eyes. "Because she never really loved me but she loved the idea of being the wife of Joshua Macintyre Jr and starting a dynasty between our two families."
"But you loved her for herself," she said and took another bite off the end of her breadstick. "There was nothing shallow in your relationship with her. She was beautiful. Tall, blonde hair, perfect skin from what I could see. Very shapely. Obviously from a wealthy family."
"I thought I loved her," I admitted. "I loved us as a couple. We were a power couple. Two big business families joined, two fortunes united. I could see it all from where I sat. Charity balls, exotic vacations, our children going to the best private schools, Ivy League colleges, inheriting the business or starting their own dynasties. But she was really in love with one of my mid-level managers from a middle-class background." I shrugged, helpless. "It was true love on their part but she couldn't marry him. He wasn't rich enough. That hurt."
"Yeah, same story on my part," she said and glanced away, her expression still pained.
"I know your pain," I said, hearing the edge of sadness in her voice. "Wounds still fresh?"