“Taste,” he urged.
The action was intimate. Sexy.
Her heart began to beat loudly in her ears. Just as he wanted her to, Harper ate from his fingers, her lips touching his skin. But the flavor that exploded on her tongue was far more decadent than caviar.
The most delicious flavor by far was him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Will felt an ache grow in his gut as he watched Harper taste caviar for what he guessed was her very first time. Her cheeks flushed as she chewed, savored, and swallowed, her tongue slipping out to lick away the excess.
The delicacy had a rich, buttery, slightly salty flavor. Mama Cannelli was right on with the preparation—no adornment, no garnish.
Harper didn’t need fancy clothes or glittering jewelry, either. She shone all on her own. Shone so brightly that he wanted more and more from her by the second. Not just a dinner out. Not just one hot night.
Will wanted her to stay and fill the empty spots inside of him. And so that he might also be able to do the same for her.
He knew that he shouldn’t let himself want those things from her. Nor could he argue with the voice of reason that told him he should let her find some perfect guy who had never seen or done the things from Will’s hellish past. Maybe he could have lived with the things his father had made him do. But Will couldn’t forget the things he’d done all on his own after the old man went to prison. He should have left the Road Warriors behind and committed to the Mavericks right then, to Bob and Susan, to his new family. But he’d gone on making mistakes for years. Until things had happened —terrible things—for which he could never forgive himself.
But none of those truths were doing a damned thing to make his desire disappear.
After he fed her another slice and relished the caress of her lips on his fingers, she said, “You’re not having any.”
“It’s better feeding it to you.”
“I can’t eat it all myself.” She selected a slice of toast, ladled on a spoonful of caviar, spread it, and handed over the morsel.
She deliberately kept her hand too far away to feed him. But he couldn’t resist wrapping his fingers around her delicately boned wrist and pulling until she was close enough for him to catch the crisped bread between his teeth. Biting down, he took half, stroking her wrist with his thumb as he demolished the caviar.
Sweet Lord, it was far better now than when he’d tasted it on Saturday morning. All because of what Harper brought to it. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s excellent.”
Her hand still imprisoned, he bent to take the other half, his lips lingering on her fingers, tasting her. The salty caviar was like a chaser to her sweetness. She was breathing harder now, and he very much liked the way her skin had flushed pink with the light caress of his lips. But as they finished the caviar between them, she made sure not to prepare another slice for him. And when he spooned one for her, she inserted her hand before he could put it to her lips.
He was getting too close in more ways than one. And Harper was backing off. The problem was that one taste of her had him dying for more. Just as he’d known it would.
Mama’s food demanded a diner’s attention, and neither of them disappointed as they polished off everything on the plates put before them.
“Are you sure you don’t want dessert?” he asked after Harper waved Antonio away. “The crème brûlée will melt on your tongue.” The sight would have driven him crazy but it would have been well worth it just to see the look on her beautiful face when she tasted heaven.
“It was all so good, but I’m stuffed.”
Mama refused to bring a bill, as Will had known she would. But he’d wanted the sweet lady to enjoy the caviar.
“You’re too good to us, Mr. Franconi.”
Will folded an arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. She reminded him of Susan, with her big heart and her love of family. She even patted Harper’s cheek, and said, “Please come again.”
“I will.”
Yes, she definitely would, if Will had anything to say about it.
As they’d eaten, he’d dominated the questions while managing to brush aside Harper’s for him. And he’d learned that everything she did was for or about her brother. Her job choice, where she lived, how often she got out on her own—all of it was about what best suited Jeremy’s needs. Again and again, she’d waved away Will’s admiration, saying it was all because of the trust fund some rich guy had used to appease his conscience. But he could see how much of herself she’d devoted to her brother. He’d hinted about whether there were any other men in her life, but it wasn’t hard to guess that there, too, Jeremy took precedence.