Chapter 13

Jon chuckled, but bit back his reply. The waiter brought out their appetizers: tender asparagus in a delicate duck egg truffle vinaigrette and a crispy duck confit with lentil ragut. The asparagus melted in their mouths, and the confit balanced it nicely. A Wolffer Estate Chardonnay was chilled to perfection, and complemented the delicious starters. Jon raised his glass and Valerie clinked hers against it as the waiter discretely disappeared back into the kitchen.

“What are we drinking to?” she asked, her gaze soft on his.

“To dancing in the moonlight,” Jon answered. “I would love to dance with you in the moonlight,” he said softly.

Valerie swallowed hard at this romantic side of the man that never makes it into the papers. “I would like that, Jon,” she said quietly; her voice thick with emotion.

They made small talk over their appetizers, Jon asking Valerie about the house. She told him all about the history of Kallie’s family’s home, at least what she knew, and about spending part of her summers with her best friend for as long as she can remember. They talked about their favorite places in town, and things they liked to do when they were on vacation. They found they both have a love for the beach, and Valerie said it was one of her favorite places to be. When Jon asked her where some of her other favorite places were, she blushed. “In your arms,” she answered honestly.

When they had finished the first course, and the bottle of wine, the waiter cleared away their plates and brought out two main dishes for them to share: wild sea scallops with a sauce of Jerusalem artichoke puree, sugar snaps and lemon, and Cedar River Run prime sirloin served with arugula and a crispy herb polenta. A North Fork Cabernet accompanied this course.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Valerie scolded gently.

“No, ma’am,” he answered with an anything-but-innocent smile.

They laughed and dug in to their food. The sirloin was as tender as anything they had ever tasted, and the scallops were buttery soft. Julianna closed her mouth around a morsel of polenta and moaned, “Mmmm, this is so good.” She looked at Jon, who was frozen, the fork halfway to his mouth. “What?” she said.

“Woman, you cannot do that,” he said, mock sternness in his voice.

“What’d I do?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“You were making that noise that just goes right to the heart of me.” Jon laughed. “Well, maybe not the heart.” He took her hand and discretely slipped it into his lap.

“Oh,” she said. She closed her fingers around his erection and squeezed gently, making Jon squirm in his seat.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he said huskily. He couldn’t decide if he wanted her to stop or not.

“Sorry,” Valerie said, with absolutely no hint of remorse. She also made no attempt to pull her hand away. They were pushed into the table far enough, and were sitting close enough together that even if the waiter came back out, he wouldn’t see anything.

“Now, why don’t I believe you mean that?” Jon asked, sliding his own hand under the table and into Valerie’s lap. He carefully pulled up her skirt, until he could touch the smooth skin of her inner thigh, making her gasp. He angled a finger for her core, and Valerie’s eyes rolled back at the contact. She let her legs fall open just a little, and gave him a tight squeeze as he dipped his fingertip under her thong, finding her wet.

“Jesus, Valerie,” Jon whispered, making Valerie blush again, this time with excitement. They finished their dinner course quickly, and polished off the Cabernet, all the while, Valerie’s hand was busy under the table.

Jon gave her a pointed look. “I’d prefer not to ruin my pants in this restaurant, if you please,” he said through gritted teeth.

Valerie gave him a wicked smile. “Do you want me to take care of that for you?” she asked, the wine having finally gotten to her. Jon’s eyebrows shot up when she moved to slide under the table.

“Jesus, Val, cut it out!” Jon was looking around wildly, and Valerie burst out laughing. “What is so damned funny?” he demanded.

“The look,” she could hardly talk for the great guffaws of laughter. “The look when you thought I was,” she couldn’t finish. Tears streamed down her face, and her breathing was coming in hiccups.

“Oooh, you little witch,” Jon said, with no rancor in his voice. He saw the waiter approaching with dessert, and leaned in to whisper into Valerie’s ear, “I will get even with you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Valerie said, struggling to get herself under control.

The waiter had brought them a Valhrona chocolate-pistachio torte and apricot crisp with whipped crème fraiche. Jon and Valerie ordered cappuccino, and waited for the waiter to bring the coffee before starting their dessert. Jon scooped up a spoonful of torte and turned to feed it to Valerie. She closed her eyes as her lips closed around the fork, and she moaned at the sheer pleasure of the tastes and textures on her tongue.

She looked into Jon’s face, seeing that his eyes had darkened, and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I enjoy food. Sue me.” She licked the corner of her mouth, where a little chocolate clung.

She trailed a finger through the crème fraiche and held it up. “Want some?” she said.

“Oh yeah,” Jon answered, wrapping a hand around her wrist and bringing her finger to his mouth. He closed his lips over her finger, sucking the crème from it. He let his tongue swirl around her fingertip, and nipped it gently before slowly pulling it from his mouth. Valerie had captured her bottom lip with her teeth to keep from crying out. She was so close to the edge, she didn’t think she was going to be able to finish dessert.

Jon smiled and looped an arm around the back of Valerie’s chair, and turned a little so his back was to the kitchen and the door the waiter had been appearing through all evening. He leaned in to kiss her deeply, and threaded a hand through her curls, making her sigh. Jon trailed his other hand down her cheek and neck, dipping briefly in between her breasts, making her breath hitch. He continued his caress downward until his hand disappeared under the table, and found its way to between her legs again. At her sharp intake of breath, Jon broke the kiss to whisper, “It’s payback time.”

He brought his mouth to hers again, and stroked her through the thin fabric of her g-string in time with his tongue’s movements. That little barrier between his skin and hers was sopping wet already. Jon chuckled low in his chest, and looped a finger under the scrap of fabric. He slid his finger slowly into her as she gripped his shoulders and groaned. A moment later, a second finger joined the first, and Jon could feel her squeeze and pulse around him as she fell over the edge. Valerie had a death grip on his arms, and growled in the back of her throat, the sound muffled by his mouth. She ripped her mouth from his and rested her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath and slowly came back to earth. Jon was surprised at the quickness and strength of her orgasm, and felt immensely proud of himself. Valerie could tell he was smiling.

“What are you smiling at,” Valerie asked, her hand stroking the slice of chest visible through his open shirt. His skin was warm and smooth.

Jon slowly removed his fingers and pulled down Valerie’s skirt. “You,” he said. Glancing surreptitiously around and seeing they were still alone, he swiped his fingers, still sticky with her juices, through the crème and brought it to his mouth and licked at it. “Mmmm,” he said, closing his own eyes. “Now that’s good,” he said huskily.

Valerie let her hand push into his shirt, and she scraped her nails across his nipple, making him hiss. “Turnabout is fair play, you know,” she said, and let her hand trail down to his straining erection.

Jon gripped her wrist and pulled her hand roughly away from him. “Oh no you don’t,” he said. “Not here, anyway.”

Valerie giggled and kissed Jon again, and the pair, snuggled together, looked out over Coecle’s harbor.