“If you don’t give anyone anything to talk about, they move along,” I point out, grabbing my card and putting it down in the black check folder and then waiting for him to come back. I push away from the table after I finish signing the bill and hold out my hand to help her up. She puts the linen napkin on the table, and when I see her smooth tan legs crossed, I wonder if they are soft like silk. She grabs her Chanel purse with one hand and holds out the other to me as she gets up.

“Merci.” Thank you, she says in French, and I suddenly want her to talk French to me all night long. I make a note to learn some French words for next time. Her hand lingers in mine, and I was right. She is soft as silk, softer even. As we walk through the restaurant, her hand lingers next to mine, grazing it softly. When we finally walk out of the restaurant, the warm breeze hits us right away. She stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “Well, this was fun,” she says. “We should do it again.”

“Should we?” I bait her. “Maybe if you called, that could be arranged.”

“Only time will tell.” She laughs and leans in. I know she is going for a kiss on the cheek because I’ve seen this play with her many times before, but I’m not going to let her. I put my hand around her waist and bring her right up against my chest while her hands grasp my arms. Her breath hitches, and her eyes just look at me as shock fills her face. I don’t let her say anything as I lower my mouth to hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth that is already open in shock. I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but I melt into her. The taste of honey from the baklava she just had lingers on her lips, and when I turn my head to the side to deepen the kiss, she is there every step of the way. As our tongues twirl and dance with each other, my cock hardens, ready to finally claim her. Her hands move up my arms, and her arms go around my neck. I kiss her for a couple more seconds, and then I slowly let go of her lips. Her eyes slowly open, and I see the desire in them.