“You know they call you PM, right?” She tilts her head. “And I’m assuming it’s not for private masturbation.” The minute she says this, I choke on my water and feel the burn as it tries to come out of my nose. I cough as I try to get some air in and get the water down. “I didn’t think so.” She takes a sip of wine, not even noticing I’m about to die. “So why do they call you that?”

I drink another sip of water and am finally able to breathe. “They call me that because I’m private, so I don’t give anyone anything. It’s Private Mark.” I shake my head. “I almost died.”

She shrugs and rolls her eyes. “You were fine.” She then stares right at me, and I’m mesmerized by her blue eyes. They are crystal blue today especially now that she’s joking. “I mean, if that was just a way for me to give you mouth-to-mouth, it was a little dramatic.”

“Trust me, if I wanted mouth-to-mouth, I would just take it,” I say, and her eyes shift. If I wasn’t looking at her, I would have missed it. The outside of her blue eyes turns just a touch darker, and she gets blue dots in the middle.

“Is that so?” she asks. I don’t get a chance to answer before the waiter comes by and places our appetizers in the middle of the table.

“Are you ready to order?’ he asks us, and Vivienne looks at me.

“I’ll let you decide,” she tells me, taking a piece of pita and dipping it in the tzatziki. When she moans, my cock gets rock hard in the blink of an eye. I order a bunch of stuff, and I am sure it’s way too much food, but my brain wasn’t getting the blood flow it needed. “This is really good,” she says, and I just nod at her, taking a piece of pita and eating it.

“Who did you go to Greece with?” I ask her, wondering if she has someone. Usually, she flies solo. There is even a side bet going with certain players to see who will finally tame her. If Matthew found out, he would ream their asses.

“I went with my cousin from France,” she says. “It was two weeks of heaven. Sunny every single day. We stayed in the little village at this little place.” I raise my eyebrows. “Fine. We had our own villa, but it was beautiful. And we chartered a yacht for two days, and it was perfect.”

“My father is from there,” I tell her, and she looks at me. “So I visit once or twice a year, and then I go to Italy and visit some of my mother’s cousins.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad trip,” she says, smiling, and I shake my head.