The staff brought us course after course of delicious, fragrant food. I would eat a little of one dish and then try to push my plate away, saying I was full, but then Suzanne would insist I try a satay, and force a stick of grilled meat onto my plate.
The guys were drinking a lot of beer, and before too long, Luthor excused himself to find the washroom.
As soon as he left the table, Suzanne and Simon practically leapt upon me with excitement.
“Marry him,” Simon said. “You marry him, or I'm going to divorce this one and I'll marry him.”
Suzanne giggled and shoved her husband. “You're stuck with me. But we could move to a state that allows polygamy.”
Getting theatrical, Simon said, “Oh, no, honey, he's all mine. That man is magnificent.” He kept going, despite Suzanne trying to cover his mouth. “He's a magnificent beast.”
Nearly in tears, I begged them both to shut up before he returned.
“It's kinda casual,” I explained to Simon.
Simon leaned in. “Don't tell him I know this, but I was talking to one of the housekeepers, and an anonymous benefactor paid for that woman Sue's grandmother to get her hip replaced. They don't know who it was, but I have a pretty good idea.”
“Wow,” Suzanne said, her eyes all big.
“You guys, he's a billionaire. That's probably what they do instead of leaving a tip. Just, oh, here you go, have some really expensive surgery on me, thanks for the sangria.”
They both stopped laughing and narrowed their eyes at me. Simon coughed and pushed his glasses up his nose.
I said, “What? Is he standing right behind me?”
They glanced at each other.
Simon said, “No, but jeez Lexie, you sound so cynical.”
Suzanne nodded. “Yeah. Just a weensy bit. Lighten up.”
I kicked her under the table and gave her mean-eyes. I sent a silent, telepathic message at my best friend: Suzanne, you brat! You're the one who pimped me out and auctioned off my ass to be here so you guys could have your second honeymoon. And you think I'm cynical? I'm just trying to protect myself.
As I was sending thought-daggers at her, Luthor appeared beside me and patted me on the shoulder.
“We may have to hit the dance floor,” he said. “Get this party started.”
Simon grooved from side to side, snapping his fingers. “All right.”
“Good,” Suzanne said. “I'll have dessert, and then we can dance off the calories.”
Luthor leaned in beside me and murmured in my ear, “There are lots of ways to burn off calories.”
I turned and stared into his eyes, with their outer edges of brown and inner rings of green and gold. His eyes were so captivating. I was going to say something sassy about calories and dancing, but instead I just said, “You're the boss.”
He chuckled at that and looked away quickly.
Simon, who was by now a little drunk, said, “Don't believe 'em! They say you can be the boss, but then you get married, and you find out you're not the boss at all.” He waved a hand emphatically. “You're not even the boss of yourself.”
Suzanne stood and pulled Simon to his feet. “Sure, sweetheart, I'd love to dance,” she said, and she led him over to the dance floor.
Luthor watched them for a moment, then turned to me and said, “Is Simon an accountant?”
“How'd you guess?”
“One of my accountants dances the exact same way. With the fingers snapping and everything.”
“He has decent rhythm,” I said.
Luthor put a hand on my leg and ran it gradually up, under my skirt. Sparks shot through me and my pu**y began to throb.
“Rhythm is important,” Luthor said.
I squeezed my thighs together tightly, trapping his hand. “So's accounting.”
He wiggled his hand and slipped further up so that one finger was stroking the outside of my panties. “Lots of things are important.”
“Like discretion,” I said, smiling. We were in a dark corner of the restaurant, and my lap was mostly hidden by the tablecloth, but not completely.
That didn't stop him from nudging his fingers further and pulling aside the material of my underwear. He ran his fingers up and down my wet folds, the sensation of his touch echoing deep inside me. I could hardly breathe, but I reached for a glass of ice water and drank slowly. At the same time, he penetrated me with one finger and then pulled it out and dragged it over and across my clit. The water was icy cold in my mouth and my pu**y was hot.
He pulled away his hand and stuck his finger in his mouth, making eye contact with me the entire time.
Those eyes. They were so hungry. He wanted me. No, he needed me.
I said to him, “Did you pay for that woman's grandmother's surgery?”
His eyebrows raised. “Gossip, gossip. Who told you that?”
“Why wouldn't you want me to know you're a decent guy?”
He shifted in his chair and looked down. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
He grabbed my hand, which was still around my water glass, and pulled it to his lap. He grinned, as though relishing what was about to happen. “Can you just treat me like I'm the gardener? Like the day we first met? I'm just some guy.”
“Right.” I nodded, then shook my head, confused. “You're just some guy? What about all that 'Call me Mr. Thorne' business at the restaurant? What about 'Lexie, sit! Good girl.'”
“We can play that some other time, if you want. But for now ...”
He kissed my hand.
“Treat you like the gardener. Okay. Does the gardener dance?”
He tipped his head to one side. “I'm a gardener, not a dancer, but I've got a few moves.” He stood and helped me to my feet, then led me to the dance floor.
As he twirled me around, I tried not to think about the sensation between my legs. My lips were fat and swollen with desire, and I wanted nothing more than to stop dancing and go back to the villa. When he grabbed me close and ground his pelvis into mine, my cl*t ached for more than subtle pressure.
The wine had gone to my head. Everything had gone to my head.
I was half a world away from my life, at the edge of an island, overlooking the ocean. My best friends were there, so in love, and there were porpoises just outside. I was in the fairy tale, only it was better than a fairy tale … because there was sex in my story. Or at least soon there would be.
We enjoyed a few more drinks to refresh us between dances.
That evening's entertainment was a professional dancer who gave us a few lessons. She danced with Luthor, eyefucking him the entire time. I didn't mind, because I got to ogle that sweet, firm ass of his as he danced, extending one long leg behind him, his chest proud and broad.