“I—uh, am not sure. I’ve been pretty wound up lately.” She felt the strain in her neck and didn’t appreciate the conversation’s direction—microscopic life examination.
“Let me ask you a question.” He squeezed her hand tighter as if trying to pull her back into the conversation.
She nodded for him to continue.
“I’ll be able to notice if you’re telling the truth because your face is expressive.”
“Right.”
He looked her over. “Has another man touched you since our night in St. Barth?”
Taddy hesitated with how to respond to his question. She repositioned herself on her seat, unable to get comfortable. “Warner, I have—”
“Please, call me by the nickname.”
“Huh?” She gripped her chair’s edge, unsure where he was going with this.
“The title you gave me.” He smiled intimately. Warner’s face reminded her of all they’d shared at Privé Extreme.
“Big…Daddy.” She allowed herself to say it. The sex floodgates opened. Herald angels, please sing already. She’d say it again with more confidence, pretending he pounded inside her. “Big Daddy—to answer your question, I haven’t been with anyone.” She shrugged to hide whether or not she should be embarrassed or proud.
“I can tell.” He enjoyed talking about her. As if he held the solution in his back pocket.
“How so?” Let’s hear it. She set her fork on the plate, expecting him to reveal secret ESP sex powers. Lord, he made her va-jay-jay trip into a gumdrop fit without any drugs. What was next?
“The minute you put your hand in mine—your pupils dilated.” He stared at Taddy as if he’d seen through her. Warner scared the freak out of her but excited her all the same.
“They did?” She blinked. It couldn’t be her false eyelashes or contacts causing her eyes to enlarge.
“And your breasts are swelling.” His eyes focused on her cleavage.
She could tell he wanted to caress them. But this fancy restaurant didn’t have a privacy curtain for a girlie show. “They…are?” Directing her breasts forward, Taddy gave him the view he’d lusted after. Her body wanted this. Each pore had craved his touch since the second they met.
“And your lips felt dry when I kissed you before we sat down to dinner.”
“Really?” She felt Warner’s sex coming off him hotter than today’s sun along the French Riviera.
“And I bet—if I reached under this table and put my hand between your legs, you’d drip on my fingers.” He licked the meat’s gravy from his thumb.
Drawing her hand under her chin, she nodded to confirm her crease was heating up. She imagined his body slamming her against a wall, pulling her hair back as she begged for more and spreading her legs wide while he rammed his cock so far up her, she’d be certain to fly off as Princess Lolly.
“I want to help you, Red.”
“You do?” Her core trembled and spoke to her, saying, “Please, Big Daddy, bang the shit outta me. Right here! Right now!”
“Let me find the fun, sexy girl who danced in my hands while in St. Barth’s. May I?”
She came back to reality for a second, sitting there staring at the sexiest man she’d ever set eyes on. His interest in her was evident. It flipped her out. “Yes, you may.” The second she agreed, Taddy could tell from the expression on Warner’s face that he wasn’t talking just about sex.
Chapter Fourteen
Oh His Anaconda, Seriously
Taddy had suggested they skip dessert. Warner seized her hand, leading them into a rear elevator. She leaned in, hugging him. “I’m looking forward to seeing your impérial suite.”
“And I’m looking forward to showing it to you.” Warner inserted a key, pushed a button on the control panel, and they rose. He kissed her.
She took in his strength, rubbing her body against his. So muscular. Curious to see his jewels, she reached down and unzipped his pants.
“Not yet, young lady.” Warner grabbed her hands and brought them back to his chest, kissing her fingers. “You’re more aggressive than I realized.”
“I’m a Manhattanite. What’d you expect?” Taddy asked, kissing him again as the elevator doors opened to his private living area. She estimated the suite to be about four thousand square feet. Empire-style décor adorned the rooms with various French silks and imported damasks. The expansive living room featured a majestic marble fireplace. Off the foyer were a few sizeable bedrooms, one with a sleigh bed in the middle. “It’s beautiful, Warner.”
“Over there is the Promenade de la Croisette.” He pointed west out the window. The Mediterranean view hypnotized them for a brief second. The yachts bumped against the pier, casting a soft glow on the water. “You ready to have the night of your life?” Warner cupped her cheeks in his hands and leaned into her body.
A familiar sensation, being candied sugar in his strong arms, came back to her. He could do whatever he wanted. Lost in those golden eyes, she confirmed, “Yes!” Taddy wrapped her right leg around his left. His cock grew under his slacks. God, you’re huge.
“I’m happy we found one another again.” He pressed his body against hers in a romantic way. Tongues meeting, he took ownership of her mouth while he unzipped her dress and allowed the fabric to drop to her feet. “You are striking.”
“Stop talking.” She egged him on for fewer words and more action, wanting to see how far she could push him. Taddy was curious whether a porn star hid under his CEO billionaire, third richest man in the world, Warner Truman gentleman’s wrapper.
“You wanna play.” In jest, he squeezed Red’s lips together with his thumb and pointer finger. Then Warner kissed her. “I bet after I give you what you need, you’ll be calling me for seconds.” He stepped away and removed his sports coat, throwing it against the chair by the bed.
She laughed. “I don’t call men. Remember?” She stepped out of her Gucci heels, kicking them to the corner. She unbuttoned his expensive-looking shirt, revealing his muscular chest. His body, a work of art, waited to be framed.
Warner pulled his shirttails out from his pants.
“I get that your nips are sensitive.” Taddy pressed her lips against them. Sweet to her tongue, his chest rose to attention.