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He kissed me gently, and focused on his menu. “I’m also honest.”

I skimmed the menu, already knowing that I was going to be ordering a prime rib. The reviews on the prime rib said it was delicious and since I doubted I’d be here often, whether I stayed with Bennett or not, I couldn’t wait to have one.

Glancing through the list of a la carte sides available, debating between asparagus or roasted brussels sprouts, I jumped as his hand came down on my thigh.

Tensing, I looked at Bennett. He was focused on his own menu, pushing up my dress as his eyes scanned it.

“Bennett,” I whispered, when he’d pushed up my dress to expose almost my entire thigh. I fluffed the tablecloth, covering my skin and he chuckled in response.

“Sub,” he replied. His fingers stretched, spanning my thigh and he tugged on my leg, opening me to him.

“Shit,” I gasped, as his fingers reached the center of my legs. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever I want, whenever I want.” He set down the menu and a ruffling came from the curtains.

Our server, Maurice, walked in with a chilled, ice bucket of champagne and two waters. Without paying us any attention, he set to work, pouring glasses and setting everything on Bennett’s other side so he had access to the champagne. The entire time, Bennett stayed still.

It didn’t matter.

His fingertips were at the gussets of my panties, his fingers sliding between them and the crease of my center. My pussy clenched at the heaviness of this touch, the anticipation at what he would do next.

I glanced at him and saw no forewarning.

“Thank you for joining us this evening.” Maurice spoke in a beautiful accent I couldn’t place. Olive-skinned with jet-black hair, I assumed he was Italian, yet it didn’t fit his features that were more Hispanic. Whichever, he was young, younger than me, perhaps fresh out of college, and attractive.

As if Bennett knew the drifting direction of my thoughts, he squeezed my thigh, catching my attention. I relaxed beneath him and startled as Maurice slid my champagne glass in front of me and at the same time, Bennett’s fingers pushed aside my panties.

I flashed him wide eyes as my pulse jumped and thudded so loud I was sure Maurice knew what was taking place beneath the table.

Without any acknowledgement, however, his grip tightened as Maurice read through the specials.

My chest burned, breath quickened as Bennett’s fingers scraped against my swollen folds.

I curled my hand over his forearm as he slowly and calmly placed our orders.

I was splitting apart at the seams and he was so unaffected. The man was exasperating.

I dug icy fingers into his arm, gave him a warning as my orgasm coiled and burned in my lower back, spreading to my hips.

“Thank you, Maurice,” Bennett said. He turned and grinned at me, wicked delight and victory in his eyes. “Do you need anything Rebecca?”

I shook my ahead. If I spoke, I’d cry out. I’d give us away.

“I need your words, darling.”

He had to be kidding.

Two arched brows and he waited. I shook my head. “No.” I gasped. “I’m good, thank you.”

He said his good-byes, and shivering, I waited until he’d vanished behind our curtain.

“You’re evil,” I said, yet I widened my legs, and ground into his fingers as he pressed one inside me and crooked it, rubbing me.

My head fell back to the chair. “Bennett.”

“Sir. And remember, anytime anywhere, wherever and whenever I want you, I’ll have you. Are you going to come for me?”

“Yes, sir.” I gasped.