He adds it to the list with a broad smile, he likes this game too.
“Swoon factor.”
He looks up with a frown. “Swoon factor? Is that a thing?”
I widen my eyes. “Oh my God, yes. Swoon factor is the most important one.” He cocks a sarcastic brow in question. “Well, not the most important thing,” I add.
He writes the word sex.
I narrow my eyes. “Hmm, what else?”
He frowns as he thinks.
“Romantic.” I smile.
He grimaces. “Do we have to put that one down?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
He rolls his eyes and scribbles it on the paper.
“Body,” I add.
His eyes rise to meet mine again and he licks his lips. I feel it all the way down there. I already know he’s getting a hundred out of ten for that one.
He smiles broadly and points the pen at me. “Occupation.”
He already knows he’s a ten in that category, too.
He sips his drink. “Okay, conversation…”
I bite my bottom lip. “Probably a six.”
“A six?” he gasps. “How am I only a six?”
I smirk. He’s totally not, but I have to bring him down to earth a bit.
“Fine, you’re a seven,” I concede.
He shakes his head in disgust and writes a seven next to the word conversation. “Brain power is a ten,” he tells me as he writes a ten next to the words brain power.
“You are not a ten.” I laugh.
He screws up his face. “Oh, please. Your stupid mountain and helium questions prove nothing. I’m a ten and you know it.”
I smile. He’s right, he’s probably a hundred, if I’m honest.
“Swoon factor?” he asks.
I frown as I think. “Hmm, I don’t know what you are in that category.”
He sips his drink. “What is swoon factor, anyway?”
“Oh, you know… like how dreamy someone is.”
“So how dreamy am I?”
I smile and lean over to cup his face in my hand. He looks at me attentively, and I stare at his dark hair with his day old growth on that square jaw, and his big beautiful eyes and lips. He’s the definition of swoon worthy, but I can’t let him know I think that. I narrow my eyes. “I would think maybe a six.”
His mouth drops open in fake horror and the waitress walks back over to collect our glasses. “Do you think I’m a six?” he asks her in disgust.
I burst out laughing and the poor girl looks between us.
He points the pen at me. “She thinks I’m only a six out of ten in the swoon factor category.”
The girl looks over at me and frowns. “You must be drunk. He’s totally a ten.”
We all burst out laughing and he gives her a tip before she walks away with our empty glasses.
He goes back to his list. “Sex?”
“Ten,” I reply without hesitation.
He raises his eyebrow in question. “I don’t think we are at a ten level yet.”
“Really?” I frown. Jeez.
He shakes his head. “Nope. I’ve had to be too gentle with you so far.”
I widen my eyes. “Hasn’t felt very gentle.”
“It has been.” His dark eyes drop to my lips and I feel the alcohol start to heat my body.
“How rough can it get?” I whisper.
“Rough.” His hand goes under the table and he slides it up my thigh, trailing beneath my dress. He slips his finger into the side of my panties, and slides it though my flesh.
My eyes close. Jesus. Public place, hot man, inebriated, and getting fingered in public. What fucking next?
“I haven’t introduced you to my kink yet.” He smiles as he slides a finger in, and I clench in appreciation.
“What would that be?” I whisper as his fingers gently probe my lips.
“Public fucking and bondage.”
He pushes another finger in and I clench. “Does this count as an initiation?” I breathe.
I start to feel my body pulse as his fingers work my flesh.
“Maybe,” he breathes, and his eyes begin to glaze over. He gets this look in his eye when he’s aroused. It’s a no turning back look-kind of like he’ll die if he doesn’t get to fuck me.
It’s hot, and damn, I’m addicted.
I want to just go over there and straddle him on the stool. His finger becomes almost violent and I close my eyes to deal with the pleasure. I glance around. Luckily, we are in a darkened corner. “This list…” I breathe.
The bartender arrives with a tray of our drinks and he slips out and sits up straight.
“Here we go. A Margarita and a Blue Label Scotch.” The bartender smiles casually.
“Thank you.” I smile in return. I glance over to see Cameron sucking his two fingers with his dark eyes firmly on me, and I nearly convulse.
Holy fuck he’s hot.
Blazing tower, inferno hot!
The bar tender leaves us alone and Cameron slowly licks his lips. “You taste good.”
I feel like I can hardly breathe with all these clothes on.
“Better than good,” he whispers.
“The list…” I whisper. It’s only early. We can’t go home to fuck yet or there will be no walking for a month.
He glances down at the list as he tries to refocus. “Romantic.” He raises a brow in question.
I screw up my face. He’s not very romantic, I do have to admit. “A three.”
He smirks and then breaks out in to a deep chuckle.
“What?” I laugh.
He shakes his head as he sips his drink. “You got me. I’m totally a three.”
I smile around my glass.
“Body?” he asks.
“One hundred.”
He smirks and raises a brow in question. “One hundred?”
“I’ve never been with a man so physically perfect.”
He raises his glass and clinks it with mine. “Let’s just hope the body counteracts the romance factor then shall we?”
I laugh and shake my head.
“Occupation?”
“Ten.” I smile. “But you already knew that.”
“I did.” He smiles. “I do have the best job in the world. I’m very grateful.”
“I never asked, but why did you become a cardiologist anyway?”
His face falls solemn. “The first patient I ever lost was because of a heart attack.”
“Oh no-”
“It was my uncle,” he interrupts.
I watch him as he struggles with the painful memory.
“I was just out of med school and we were at his house when he had a heart attack.” He frowns and I know he is right back there. “The ambulance came, but I had to use the defibrillators in the back of the ambulance to try and save him. I was the most experienced there and, looking back now, I was nowhere near prepared for it.”
I watch him. I dread the day I lose someone.
He shrugs as he sips his drink. “I couldn’t do it. He died despite my efforts.”
I reach over and take his hand in mine.
“I vowed I would learn more about hearts, and in the end I came to love everything about cardiology. It fascinates me.”
I smile softly. “Just like you fascinate me.”
He smirks and returns to his sheet, and I watch him as he tallies up the scores. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that I know that as soon as I tell him my secret, this will all be over, but I’m feeling very attached and needy. I need to snap the hell out of it.
I deserve to have a nice week with him. Hell, I know its going to end and that’s okay. I hold no grudges as to how he will feel when he finds out I have a son. I already know his stance on children.
And I know it’s selfish, but I want the week.