“Uh…yeah.” I arched and stretched and sat up. “Give me the briefs, would you? Wills, how come…” I was suddenly distracted. “You didn’t come.” I knew, and not just because the front of his trousers wasn’t damp.
“No, although it was touch and go there for a while. You make the hottest sounds when you’re ready to come.”
“But you didn’t come.” I stood and stepped into the briefs. He was right. They were comfortable.
“I’ll be on a low simmer all night, babe.” A slow fire burned in his eyes. His voice was low and rough, and he pressed my palm to his groin, against the discreet bulge, then brought my hand to his mouth. His tongue flicked out and caressed the mound of Venus at the base of my thumb. “You’ll know that I’m hot for you…” He sucked my forefinger into his mouth. “…and any time you want to take me…” He sucked on my middle finger. “…anywhere you want to take me, you can have me.”
I shuddered. If I hadn’t just come, his words and actions would have had me teetering on the brink. I took my finger from his mouth and kissed him, tasting my come on his tongue.
“I’d better get dressed, or we’ll never get out of here.”
“I’ll just go brush my teeth.”
“Good idea.”
It didn’t take long for me to finish dressing. I was still worrying about the fact that he’d been so blasé about my declaration of love. After all, I didn’t say it very often. Well, actually, beyond that one time, I didn’t say it at all.
“Wills.” I turned toward the mirror—to make sure my hair was in place, my bowtie was straight, and the material of my cummerbund unwrinkled.
“Yeah, babe?” He came out of the bathroom, picked up my tux jacket, and came to me, holding it so I could slide my arms into the sleeves. All the while I watched him through the mirror. He ran his hands up and down my arms, turned me around, and slid the buttons into the buttonholes. “You look gorgeous, you know that, Theo? Maybe I should wear my gun.”
“Oh, no. That will ruin the line of your tux.” It was the Armani I’d gotten him for Christmas. “Wills…”
“Hmm?” He pinned a red rose to my lapel. There was a matching one in his. “Come on, get your overcoat. We don’t want to lose our reservations.”
“No, of course not. Which car are we taking, the Corvair or the Dodge?”
“Neither. I rented a limo for the evening. Nothing but the best for…” He paused by the door. “Is something wrong, babe?”
“No.” I was—had been—a pro, and as such, a damned good actor. I gave him a jaunty grin and kissed him. “Let’s get going.”
* * * *
Giovanni, who’d been the ma? tre d’ at Raphael’s since it had opened, smiled when he saw us. “Your table is waiting, signori.” He snapped his fingers, and a young woman in an evening gown appeared and took our overcoats. He snapped his fingers again, and our waiter appeared.
“It’s good to see you, Nino.”
“And you too, signori. If you will come this way?”
Because he’d made reservations so far in advance, Wills had snared us one of the best tables in the house. We followed our waiter across the room, passing a dimly lit alcove. It was the perfect place for lovers, and I’d kind of been hoping we’d get it, but Wills had told me it had been reserved by a couple of regulars. I glanced toward it to see what lucky couple occupied it.
I did a double take and came to a halt.
“Vince! Happy New Year!”
He looked up from his entree, his expression at first cold and flat, and then warming slightly.
Wills had realized I wasn’t with him, and he came back to me. His eyes seemed to widen as his gaze went from Vince to the man who shared his table.
“Wills, it’s Vince. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” And not in an Oscar de la Renta tux. “Usually you’re working on holidays.”
“Bascopolis.” He rose to his feet and shook first my hand and then Wills’s. “Matheson.”
“Mr. Vincent. Happy New Year, sir.”
“Yeah. You too.”
I waited for Vince to introduce us to his dinner companion.
“Uh…Quinn, this is my former landlord, Theo Bascopolis. You’ve met Matheson.”
“Yes.” He stood also, and I could see he was a few inches shorter than Vince. “It’s nice to meet you.” His hair was brown and his eyes a shade the dim lighting made difficult to determine. The tux he wore fit him well, and if I’d still been in the business, I’d have been willing to take him as a client.
“Same here.” I shook his hand. “Are you a colleague of Vince’s?”
He smiled and extended his hand to Wills. “Matheson. It’s nice to see you again.” He didn’t answer my question.
“Mr. Mann.” Wills kept the handshake brief. “We won’t keep you from you dinner, Mr. Vincent.”