Victor withdraws his hand. “The pleasure was ours.”
“It was,” Carter agrees. “I’ll call you this week. We can draw up a mock contract for your lawyers to read through as well, and at your own time. We want you to feel comfortable with the decision, regardless of which way you’re leaning.”
I smile and say my goodbyes, and then we all three watch as Simmons walks out of the restaurant.
“I should call it a night too,” Carter says, tossing his napkin on the table. “Unless you two are in the mood for clubbing?”
“We’re not,” Victor say.
“You go to clubs?” I ask.
Carter laughs. It’s a wonder to see him go from business to off-duty in so short a time span. “No. Not in years. But if our lady here wants to…”
“My lady,” Victor corrects him, and then shakes his head.
“Of course, your lady. And how the rest of us men weep at that. Cecilia, you look stunning tonight.”
“Thank you.”
He rises from the table and so do we, following him out into the cold New York air. Steven is waiting for us by the curb. The second we’re in the car, Victor presses the button to roll up the partition. It seals us into the backseat.
Victor reaches for my hand. “Feel,” he mutters, pressing it flat against his hard length. The outline is stark through his pants. “That’s what your no-panties stunt did to me.”
I feel lightheaded, power and desire rising like a wave inside me. “You liked that.”
He kisses me, a hard press of his lips on mine. I run my nails along his hardness and he gives a low hiss. “Cecilia…”
“Yes? Can I get you another coffee? Reschedule a meeting? Book your date with a new woman?”
“You’re punishing me,” he says.
“You said you didn’t object.”
In the darkness of the backseat, his eyes look almost black. “Oh, I don’t. But two can play this game.”
His hand grips the hem of my dress and tugs it up forcefully, the other pushing my legs apart. The shocked silence that follows is sweeter than candy. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You told the truth.”
“You didn’t believe me?”
“No. That’s why I tried to find out beneath the table.”
There’s a hoarseness in his voice I wouldn’t have believed it could hold, one that isn’t polished or controlled or restrained. It’s the Victor I saw in his grandfather’s study, the Victor who dared me to follow him at Nadine’s art show.
The Victor whowantswith such burning intensity that allIwant is let him consume me. I want to drive him to the edge.
And then I want to drive him straight over it.
His fingers stroke the seam between my legs, the same motion I’m raking along the length in his pants. “Two more minutes,” he murmurs, “and I would have been doing this in the restaurant.”
My breath catches. “You wouldn’t have dared.”
“You know I would have.” His fingers part me, and then he bends down, putting his mouth right over my clit.
“Oh my God.” I find the thick strands of his hair, gripping. “Yes. Right there.”
There’s brief chuckle against my sensitive skin and then his lips return, tongue manipulating my clit back and forth. With this angle, it’s all he can do. But it’s also more than enough.
“I was going to seduce you,” I whisper.