I force a nervous smile and the waitress arrives with a silver tray.

Oh no, you were supposed to bring that before he got here, fool.

“Here you are, one margarita and two tequila shots.” She places them down in front of me; my eyes flick up to Elliot and he smirks, clearly amused.

“Thanks.”

“Thirsty?” he asks.

I nod, pick up my margarita and take a sip, wishing I could drain the whole damn glass.

“I’ll have a bottle of Barbaresco 1996,” Elliot tells the waitress.

“Of course, sir.” She disappears again.

With a shaky hand I sip my margarita and Elliot leans his face on his hand as he watches me. His pointer finger runs up his temple, and he seems completely relaxed. “Are you nervous?”

“Little bit.” I take a bigger gulp of my drink.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can pass me that tequila.”

He raises an eyebrow and passes me a shot glass.

Oh hell, I look like the world’s biggest loser, but it’s either skull this or be a nervous nutcase all night. I tip my head back and drain the glass.

“You swallow well.”

I glance up.

His eyes are dark and we both know he’s not talking about the tequila.

Okay, it’s official, Elliot Miles has plans to break my vagina tonight.

I can already tell.

“Umm . . .” I hold my hand out for the other glass, not drunk enough for this conversation.

He passes the other shot glass over and I knock it back, just as the waitress arrives with the fancy bottle of wine. “Here you are, sir.” She pours a little into a glass for Elliot to taste.

He swishes it around his mouth. “That’s fine, thank you. We’d like privacy please. I’ll call for you when I want something.”

I can see her smirk under her serious facade.

“Yes, sir.” She disappears back into the kitchen and I know that she knows exactly why I’m slugging tequila like a sailor. I want to go back to the kitchen, discuss this messed-up situation, and drink with her.

Elliot reaches under the table and, with a sharp movement, pulls my chair around closer to his. “That’s better.” He puts his large hand over my thigh. “I want to touch you.”

The heat of the tequila begins to warm my blood. “You’re very touchy,” I whisper.

“You’re very touchable.” His eyes drop to my lips and he reaches down and cups my face. “What did you do while I was away?”

“Nothing much . . .” My voice trails off; how am I supposed to string a sentence together when he’s looking at me like that?

He puts his mouth to my ear. “Did you touch yourself?” he whispers. His breath tickles my skin and goosebumps scatter up my arms.

“Did you?” I ask.

His lips dust mine. “Every day. Coming is my favorite pastime.”

I get a vision of him pulling himself and my insides begin to melt into a puddle.

How is he so hot?

“You come every day?” I whisper.

“Yes.” He sits back. “Don’t you?”

I shake my head.

“Well.” He takes my hand and puts it over his crotch; he’s rock-hard underneath his jeans. “We’ll have to do something about that.” He flexes his dick beneath my hand. “Won’t we?”

I stare at him as my brain begins to melt down.

There is just no mincing words, he’s full-on sexual. I know Elliot, I know he’s an aggressive man, and when he sees something that he wants, he gets it.

I don’t know why I’m surprised that he’s like this . . . but on some level, I am.

“You’re going to make me come . . . every day?” I whisper.

He chuckles and grabs a handful of my hair and drags me to him. “Baby, I’m going to make you come until you pass out.”

Fucking, fuck, fuck.

No need to even get me naked, I’m about to pass out now.

I smile as my tequila bravery begins to kick in. “We’ll see.”

“We will.” He pats his lap. “Over here.”

“What?”

“Spread those pretty little thighs and sit on me.”

“Here?” I squeak.

His grip on my hair tightens and he kisses me, long, deep, and slow, and I begin to lose control.

“Kate,” he demands. “When I ask you to do something, you do it. No questions asked.”

My heart begins to hammer in my chest.

“Now,” he repeats.

I blink in surprise. What have I got to lose, I’m going straight to hell already for sneaking around with a bad man. I stand up and he lifts one of my legs and puts it over him, and then he pulls my dress up so I can spread my legs as he pulls me down so I’m sitting on his lap.

We come face to face, our bodies snug up against each other. “That’s better.” He kisses my chest and nips my breast with his teeth.

We are in a restaurant.

This is like nothing I’ve ever done before—so unexpected. Wrong, but holy hell, so hot.

He stares up at me. “Make yourself come, angel.”

“What?” I whisper.

“Rub yourself over my cock, I want you to come before dinner.”

“Elliot,” I breathe, “are you crazy?”

He smiles up at me as his lips take mine. “My pleasure comes from watching your pleasure.”

He grabs my hips and circles them as he kisses me, my clitoris strategically placed over his erection. Teasing, taunting me to want more.

And I do.

He’s so hard beneath me, and his dick is rubbing in all the right places. “Elliot,” I breathe into his mouth.

“That’s it, baby, can you feel me. Feel what I’ve got for you?” He kisses me deeply. “I’m so full.” He murmurs into my mouth, “I need to come, it’s yours. Take it.”

Oh . . . fuck.

The sound of his familiar deep voice saying such dirty things fries my brain and I shudder as I begin to lose control.

“You want to come, too?” He circles me deeper. “I can feel how bad you need it.” His lips go to my ear. “Are you swollen and wet for me?”

I close my eyes as my body begins to rock of its own accord; it has an agenda now and I couldn’t stop it if I tried.

“Maybe I should spread you out on this table and lick you out . . . right here.” He bites my ear. “You don’t know how badly I need to taste you. It’s all I can think about.” He bites my neck hard and I jump, teetering on the edge of pain.

What the ever-loving fuck—Elliot Miles is the king of dirty talking . . . and we haven’t even made it home yet.

I shudder again and his grip on my behind tightens to near painful.

His eyes are dark, his big, beautiful lips are hungry. “Give me some cream, baby, you fuck that cock of mine.”

I convulse as I tip over the edge, the orgasm so strong that I whimper into his mouth; he smiles triumphantly as he kisses me as I come back to earth.

He leans back and watches me; he tenderly tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“Now . . . we can eat.”