Page 48 of Lovesick

It was then that I knew tonight wouldn’t just be a dinner with a client. It was a chance for him to show me that he cared.

“I’ll put them in a vase.” I smiled up at him and went back inside to put the flowers in some water, and after grabbing my purse and a light jacket, I was ready to head out with him.

The restaurant was intimate and upscale. Candlelight shimmered across every table, and soft piano music was being played by a man in a corner. We were seated at a table near the window, tucked in just enough to feel private.

Dinner started off light. Talk of the case, the outcome of it, and how Dr. Hofstetter’s team might handle the press. We laughed a few times, and while Dr. Hofstetter started to ask me more personal questions, I kept answering him in the politest way. He was a good man, and his wife had joked a few times about how much he needed this dinner, since he was always in the OR.

Somewhere between the second course and dessert, Dean’s knee brushed against mine under the table, and it lingered.

At first, I froze. Just for a second.

Then his hand rested on my thigh, and I glimpsed at him from the side, wondering if he was doing it on purpose. The smile he gave me answered my question, but when I didn’t fully react, he pulled it away, giving me an apologetic look.

I swallowed the piece of steak I was chewing and felt something shift within me. I hated that his hand wasn’t on my thigh anymore. I also hated how many flashbacks I got from his touch. Bad ones at first, but then, they turned hopeful. I ignored the emotional heaviness he put me through, and reached for his hand under the table, placing it back on my thigh.

His eyes met mine and for a moment, he just looked at me. I thought he would pull away again, but instead, he started to inch his hand higher. I squirmed, wanting to look away, but unable to. His touch was gentle, and his fingers toyed with the hem of my dress, sending a rush of heat through me. I wanted to be upset about this, but I wasn’t. It was almost like I had a devil and an angel on each shoulder, shouting at me, telling me what was right and wrong. But I ignored them both and just listened to my heart.

“You okay?” he asked, as if he didn't know the answer.

I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. “Fine.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and intimate. His hand moved again, teasing, daring, until I could barely sit still.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “No."

He laughed again, and his hand stayed exactly where it was, neither moving higher nor pulling away. My heart was racing, and I struggled to keep my face neutral, aware of the other people around us.

“So,” he said, as if nothing was going on, “how's your steak, Emilia?”

I tried to focus. “Um. Good. Really good.”

He smirked, clearly amused by my flustered state. His fingers brushed lightly against me, now inching higher on my inner thigh. “Mine too,” he said, finally picking up his fork with his free hand and taking a bite. “Glad we got to do this. Thank you for the invitation, Doc.”

Dr. Hofstetter lifted his wine glass, a wide grin spreading on his lips. “Had I known you’d bring Emilia, I would’ve invited you much sooner. She’s a delight.”

My cheeks flushed, and to make it even worse, everybody was looking at me. “Oh, I…” I laughed nervously, feeling Dean’s fingers slide further up, urging me to part my legs. “Thank you, Dr. Hofstetter.”

He gave me a nod and a wink before turning his attention back to his wife, and I cleared my throat, side-eyeing Dean. “You can’t do this here,” I whispered.

“No?” He smiled at me, the wickedness of it making my pulse quicken. “Watch me.” His fingers slipped under the thin fabric of my panties, finding my clit. I bit down on my lip, my body instantly responding, and the world around us seemed to blur. Everything disappeared except for his touch and the way it made me feel.

I was barely aware of the conversation continuing at the table, the clinking of glasses and laughter, as my body tensed under his touch. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. His touch was light, then harder, then light again, the rhythm driving me to the edge. I fought to keep my breathing steady, but it was a losing battle.

“Everything okay, Emilia?” Mrs. Hofstetter asked, her voice cheerful and unsuspecting.

I nodded, unable to trust my voice.

“You’re looking a bit flush,” she said, concerned.

Dean’s fingers moved faster, and I felt the world begin to spin. “She’s fine,” he assured them with a grin. “I think the steak was just a little spicy.”

I tried to smile, but it came out as more of a gasp. I felt myself begin to unravel, the pressure building, until I couldn’t hold on anymore. The release was sudden and intense. My body shuddered, and I struggled to keep my composure. My hand gripped the edge of the table, and I prayed nobody noticed the tremor that passed through me.

Dean’s fingers eased, slowing, and he gave me a look of pure satisfaction. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice teasing.

I nodded, finally able to breathe again. “Fine,” I managed, though I could still feel the aftershocks of what he’d done.

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