My fingers ached with the need to touch him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” I glanced away and then back. “You didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday. Besides, my birthday isn’t for another couple days.”
“I wanted to get you something that would remind you of me.” His lips curled up into a small smile.
My body craved to be touched by him, and as if he sensed my need, he suddenly leaned in, putting his nose against my neck. My lips parted as his alluring aromatic scent of expensive cigars, sandalwood, and rich earth wafted around me. I almost dropped my glass before carefully placing it on the table with trembling fingers.
He leaned away, and when he pulled a small plate over in front of me, his arm brushed the side of my breast.
Scooping a teeny portion of truffle mac and cheese onto a plate, he dug into it and held out a forkful. “Here, open up for me, darling.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “You do know I’m not a two-year-old?” I countered.
But there was something sexy about him feeding me, and it aroused my senses and body.
“Open your mouth, Hope,” he demanded in a voice that was low, seductive.
My breath quickened. Well… if you insist.
My lips parted, allowing him to slide the fork inside. Damn, it is good—in every fucking way possible.