retorts, his palm hitting the table's edge before he takes another bite of his food.
"Have you ever been sued for sexual harassment?" I pick up my salad fork and stab a carrot.
He stops mid chew to stare at me. I watch in silence as he swallows hard. "No. Why would I be sued for sexual harassment?"
Is he shitting me? I would have guessed that he has a team of attorneys on retainer to deal with all the women he sleeps with that he also works with. "You proposition women you work with to sleep with you." I want to add a 'duh' to the end of that, but he did bring me to one of the nicest restaurants in the city so I'll refrain, for now.
"Every woman I've slept," he pauses. "Every woman I've fucked has been a willing participant."
"That's because you gave them all something." I scoop up a piece of lettuce before putting it in my mouth.
He reaches for his wine glass, downing the remainder of the Cabernet Sauvignon that was there. I've watched my father enjoy the finer things in life for years and I know, for a fact that the bottle of wine Alec ordered for the two of us is more than most people can expect to make working an entire week. I also know that he didn't do it to impress me. It did though and I've already enjoyed two full glasses.
"I'm a generous person, Libby."
I can't refute that. I did a search online for him last night. He's a philanthropist in addition to being one of the wealthiest men in Manhattan. He is active in his support of many charities. There were dozens of photographs of him at events with children, hospital patients and homeless people. If I hadn't seen the images myself I would never have believed that the man doing all that good work and the guy sitting across from me are the same person.
"I know. I read about that." My tongue darts over my lips.
"Where did you read that?" The grin on his face makes him look both cocky and completely seductive.
I scratch my nose. Why did I tell him that I read about him? Now he knows that I'm interested. Shit. "It was in a magazine or something. It was a long time ago." Nice save, Libby.
"You've been researching me." He nods as the waiter refills his wine glass and then mine. "You were asking about me at the jewelry store too."
Thanks a lot, Ivy. Way to rat me out.
"My boss, Ivy, told me you know her husband," I try to say without seething.
"We're acquaintances," he offers. "We share a mutual friend. He's actually the owner of this restaurant."
Of course he is. Alec Hughes knows every important person in this city. I, on the other hand, know a handful of people who have absolutely no influence in New York at all, including the guy in Central Park who always winks at me when he sells me a pretzel.
"Back to my original question." He spins his fork in the air as if that's going to send us back in time. "Do you like sucking cock?"
"I can't tell you how many ways that is completely inappropriate," I spit out. "It's demeaning and it objectifies women."
"If you asked me if I like eating pussy I wouldn't be offended at all."
I have to grasp the side of the table to steady myself. "We're trying to have dinner. This isn't the kind of conversation you have at dinner." There's no way that didn't make me sound like a prude.
He carefully places his fork next to his plate, moves his wine glass over a half of an inch, reaches across the table and tugs my hand into his before I can react. "We are two adults who are having an adult conversation about sex, Libby. This isn't Sunday school. I like eating pussy. I want to eat your pussy until you scream my name over and over again. Now, answer the question. Do you like sucking cock?"
My breath is caught somewhere between my chest and my mouth. I can't take my eyes off of him. I can't get the image of his head buried between my legs out of my mind. "I…I…" I stammer because my sex is clenching so tightly that I fear I may come.
"Do you like having a big, hard cock between those pretty pink lips of yours?"
I nod slowly.
"Have you ever been sued for sexual harassment?" I pick up my salad fork and stab a carrot.
He stops mid chew to stare at me. I watch in silence as he swallows hard. "No. Why would I be sued for sexual harassment?"
Is he shitting me? I would have guessed that he has a team of attorneys on retainer to deal with all the women he sleeps with that he also works with. "You proposition women you work with to sleep with you." I want to add a 'duh' to the end of that, but he did bring me to one of the nicest restaurants in the city so I'll refrain, for now.
"Every woman I've slept," he pauses. "Every woman I've fucked has been a willing participant."
"That's because you gave them all something." I scoop up a piece of lettuce before putting it in my mouth.
He reaches for his wine glass, downing the remainder of the Cabernet Sauvignon that was there. I've watched my father enjoy the finer things in life for years and I know, for a fact that the bottle of wine Alec ordered for the two of us is more than most people can expect to make working an entire week. I also know that he didn't do it to impress me. It did though and I've already enjoyed two full glasses.
"I'm a generous person, Libby."
I can't refute that. I did a search online for him last night. He's a philanthropist in addition to being one of the wealthiest men in Manhattan. He is active in his support of many charities. There were dozens of photographs of him at events with children, hospital patients and homeless people. If I hadn't seen the images myself I would never have believed that the man doing all that good work and the guy sitting across from me are the same person.
"I know. I read about that." My tongue darts over my lips.
"Where did you read that?" The grin on his face makes him look both cocky and completely seductive.
I scratch my nose. Why did I tell him that I read about him? Now he knows that I'm interested. Shit. "It was in a magazine or something. It was a long time ago." Nice save, Libby.
"You've been researching me." He nods as the waiter refills his wine glass and then mine. "You were asking about me at the jewelry store too."
Thanks a lot, Ivy. Way to rat me out.
"My boss, Ivy, told me you know her husband," I try to say without seething.
"We're acquaintances," he offers. "We share a mutual friend. He's actually the owner of this restaurant."
Of course he is. Alec Hughes knows every important person in this city. I, on the other hand, know a handful of people who have absolutely no influence in New York at all, including the guy in Central Park who always winks at me when he sells me a pretzel.
"Back to my original question." He spins his fork in the air as if that's going to send us back in time. "Do you like sucking cock?"
"I can't tell you how many ways that is completely inappropriate," I spit out. "It's demeaning and it objectifies women."
"If you asked me if I like eating pussy I wouldn't be offended at all."
I have to grasp the side of the table to steady myself. "We're trying to have dinner. This isn't the kind of conversation you have at dinner." There's no way that didn't make me sound like a prude.
He carefully places his fork next to his plate, moves his wine glass over a half of an inch, reaches across the table and tugs my hand into his before I can react. "We are two adults who are having an adult conversation about sex, Libby. This isn't Sunday school. I like eating pussy. I want to eat your pussy until you scream my name over and over again. Now, answer the question. Do you like sucking cock?"
My breath is caught somewhere between my chest and my mouth. I can't take my eyes off of him. I can't get the image of his head buried between my legs out of my mind. "I…I…" I stammer because my sex is clenching so tightly that I fear I may come.
"Do you like having a big, hard cock between those pretty pink lips of yours?"
I nod slowly.
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