20. Cora
CORA
“What do you want to wear?” Jennifer asked. “Sophisticated sexy or slinky sexy?”
I flopped down on my bed, sighing contentedly as I stared at the ceiling.
If I ignored Levi’s sudden reappearance back into my life and his unexpected flower delivery—which I was trying really hard to do—the last twenty-four hours had been pretty perfect.
I couldn’t believe I was about to go out on a proper date with Aiden.
Sure, we’d been out together—the drive to Newburgh, the reunion, breakfast at Doris’s.
But this was the first purposeful date we’d been on in more than fifteen years, and I was a little nervous.
“You good?” Jennifer asked, looking down at me.
I pressed my hand to my stomach. Butterflies didn’t even begin to cover it. “Nerves, I guess.”
She laughed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. It dipped, and I rolled toward her. “Why are you stressing? You’ve already gotten through all the awkward reconnection stuff. You’ve even slept with the guy again. Feels like the hard part’s already out of the way. Tonight should be smooth sailing.”
“I know. Everything with Aiden’s been so wonderful.” But part of me still couldn’t shake the memory of my mom telling me to be careful, not to let Aiden break my heart again. “You know me, though. I started overthinking things, wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.”
“Why does it have to drop at all?”
I sat up on my elbow. “I do think we’re on the same page with this getting-back-together thing. And I guess that makes me nervous in a good way.” I pressed my forehead into her side. “I really like him, Jenn.”
“No, really?” she teased.
I pulled back, pouting at her playfully.
“Just tell me this one thing,” she said, getting to her feet. “Is the Cocktail King’s cocktail really as good as they say?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I laughed as Jennifer flopped back down, taking me by the shoulders as if she could shake the answer out of me.
“Help a girl out. You know I’m in a dry spell. Let me live a little vicariously.”
I could feel my entire face flushing as I nodded. “It’s better.”
“As in ‘bigger is better’?” she asked, flashing me a wicked grin.
“Bigger is definitely better, but he never had any problems on that front,” I said. “And he knows what to do with it now. Not to mention with his tongue.”
Jennifer groaned like a wild beast in heat. “God, I need to find myself a Cocktail King.” She lay down beside me. “If only for the stress relief.”
“Maybe you’ll bump into someone tonight if you go out,” I suggested. It was her night off from the restaurant. “You could find a nice guy to have a little fun with.”
“No chance,” she said, yawning as she rubbed the space between her eyes. “I’m so looking forward to staying in. I want to rest and recharge.”
“You mean eat your weight in pizza and cookie dough?”
“Exactly. And I sure as hell don’t want to go back to work tomorrow.”
“Is it really that bad?” I asked, genuinely worried. When had work become something that weighed on her this much?
“I’m dreading it,” she said. “But that’s a tomorrow problem. Tonight, I’m going to watch K-dramas until my eyes bug out of my head and send you off in style. Speaking of which, you never answered my question. What are you wearing?”
“I don’t know.” I sat up. “I’m not even sure where we’re going.”
“You didn’t ask him?”
“He wouldn’t tell me. I think he wants it to be a surprise.”
Jennifer clicked her tongue, dissatisfied. “You’re giving me literally nothing to work with here.”
“I know!”
“Okay, well, if I were a billionaire,” Jennifer said, walking to my tiny closet, “taking someone out to dinner in Manhattan, I’d go somewhere nice.
Somewhere really nice. Like Eleven Madison Park or maybe the Modern.
” She pulled a sparkling black halter dress from my closet.
It had a plunging neckline. “Put this on.”
I worried my lip. “I’m not sure that’s the one.”
“This is the one,” Jennifer said. “Trust me.”
“You look amazing,” Aiden said. “Have I told you that yet?”
“Yes…” I smiled softly at him across the small, square table. His thumb brushed over my knuckles where he held my hand. “Only about five or six times.”
“Let’s make it seven then,” he said as his gaze flicked up and down, his stare heated. “That dress…”
He’d hardly been able to take his eyes off me since the moment he’d picked me up. Jennifer was right. This was the dress—plunging neckline, slit up the side. His gaze was like a caress, goosebumps prickling up and down my arms as Aiden tugged on the collar of his dress shirt.
“This place is amazing,” I said, trying to distract myself from the way he was making me feel.
He’d taken me to Velour & Vine, the fanciest restaurant I’d ever set foot in ensconced in a club I could never hope to be a member of.
We’d promptly been escorted across the restaurant to a semi-private table for two.
It was an intimate space with soft lighting.
Our position allowed us a view of the elegant decor and bustling restaurant activity without being too close to the other diners.
The staff were attentive but unobtrusive, often anticipating our needs before Aiden or I could even voice them.
A sommelier came and went, offering tailored wine pairings to go with the special dishes curated by the head chef himself.
He’d come out to greet us at the start of the meal, shaking Aiden’s hand in a way that made it clear they were old friends.
Each course of the tasting menu had been utterly divine so far, and I couldn’t wait to give Jennifer the rundown.
If anyone could appreciate meticulously crafted seafood, it was her.
A gently seared scallop was set down in front of me.
“…served with brown butter dashi, seaweed, and mushrooms,” the server was saying. He disappeared quickly, leaving us to enjoy the dish.
I sipped my wine, watching Aiden’s fork disappear between his lips. His eyes fluttered closed.
“Good?” I asked.
“I’ve only ever tasted one thing better.”
“What?”
“You.”
I must have flushed the same color as my wine. Thank God I didn’t choke on it. “Smooth,” I said, shaking my head at his cocky smirk. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”
“Since the moment we sat down,” he said. He leaned over, kissing me, letting me taste the wine on his tongue.
I hummed in appreciation.
Aiden pulled back, taking my fork so he could pick up my scallop and offer it to me. I opened my mouth, letting him feed me. As I chewed, his gaze, which had been firmly focused on my face, dropped lower, appreciating the view of my cleavage.
The server returned with the next course. “Yellowfin tuna,” he said. “Thinly pounded.” Aiden caught my eye, his smirk widening. “Served with foie gras, toasted baguette, and chives.” He disappeared like a veil of smoke.
“Don’t,” I said before Aiden could even open his mouth. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You weren’t about to say something along the lines of ‘That’s not how I usually like my things pounded’?”
He smirked. “I have more class than that. But while we’re on the subject. How do you like things pounded?”
“Are we still talking about fish here?”
“When were we not?” he said with far too much innocence. His hand found my leg, his fingers crawling up the slit to my thigh. “Have I mentioned I really like this dress?”
I laughed. “No, I had no idea.”
The next course arrived. “Monkfish,” the server said. “Accompanied by a warm saffron emulsion, fennel, and tomato confit.”
“Monkfish,” I said, intrigued.
“It has a firm, meaty texture that pairs well with the aromatic saffron and sweet tomato,” the server continued. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Thank you,” I said, a blush already itching along my neck.
“You do have a history of enjoying firm, meaty things in your mouth,” Aiden said. “Or, at least, you did. Has that changed?”
Christ! My heart thudded against my ribcage as heat pooled between my legs. If he carried on this way, I didn’t know how we were going to make it to the end of the meal. I caught his eye. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find out.”
Aiden lifted his hand, signaling the server. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, sir?”
“How many courses did you say there were?”
“Ten.”
Aiden nodded, taking a deep breath in through his nose as the server stepped away.
“You’re looking a little flushed there,” I said. I slipped my foot out of my heel, brushing it up the side of his leg.
“I’m perfectly fine.” He swallowed hard.
“Though I’ll be even better when I can get you out of that dress.
” He then proceeded to describe exactly what he planned to do to me, in such exquisite detail it became hard for me to breathe.
By the time the server brought the next course, I was so flushed he could have cooked the filet on my cheek.
To say nothing of how hot I felt in other places.
We finished our meal in a hurry, practically choking down the lobster, which was delicious, and the chocolate soufflé for dessert.
Then Aiden paid and hustled me out of the restaurant so quickly, I felt like I had my own personal security.
We were in his car, back to his place on the Upper East Side, and undressing in his living room before I even had time to wonder how much the dinner cost.
“I’ve been dying to do this since the moment I picked you up,” he said once we were naked, palming my breasts. He bent down, sucking a pert nipple into his mouth.
I moaned in pleasure, my entire body responding to every little flick of his tongue. Fiery heat throbbed between my legs. I’d been wet for him for hours now. His hands traveled down my back to cup my ass, grinding his erection against me. His cock was hard against my belly.
His hand found my clit, dipping into my wetness, eliciting a wild little moan. If he didn’t take me soon, I was going to climb him like a tree.
“Turn around,” he said, bending low to whisper the words in my ear.
I did, bracing my hands on the back of the couch, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city.