‘That’s right!’ Sasha laughed, clapping her hands. ‘I almost forgot about that.’
Megan glanced at Ryan sideways, as she took a drink of the water that was already set out on the table. He studied her intently. ‘So, you and Vincent were dating?’
‘What?’ Megan choked.
‘No, we were talking about work.’ Vincent turned to his wife. ‘I don’t think you ever told me you were jealous of my having dinner plans with Megan.’
Kat grabbed her triangular dinner napkin off the table and threw it at Zoe. ‘Thanks for ratting me out, sis!’
Zoe laughed. ‘Well, at least now he knows that Megan wasn’t really allergic to pasta. Um, you did know, right?’
Vincent chuckled, nodding.
‘Yeah, you all laugh it up,’ Megan warned. ‘I’m the one who got stuck with an omelette while the rest of you had that gourmet masterpiece.’
‘Hey, those were gourmet eggs,’ Zoe joked.
‘Yeah,’ Sasha drawled. ‘They came from the butts of Upper East Side chickens, not the pesky Bronx fowl.’
‘Sasha!’ Beatrice warned. Their mother’s scolding only made their laughter worse.
‘What?’ Sasha shrugged with a look of fake innocence, clearly not caring that she was in trouble.
‘Not at the table, dear,’ Douglas said, his tone low and even. ‘You know better than to call them pesky.’
They laughed harder.
‘Oh.’ Beatrice shook her head. ‘We try to go somewhere nice and see what happens?’
‘We all have a good time?’ Megan asked, grinning.
Her mother instantly lightened.
‘Like old times growing up,’ Zoe added.
‘And we get to be with the people we love,’ Kat said.
‘And we –’ Sasha glanced around the table, searching for what to say ‘– we get to make the restaurant people sing happy birthday to . . .’ Again she looked around, her eyes narrowing on Ryan. A mischievous grin curled the side of her lip. ‘Ryan.’
‘What? No, it’s not my birthday,’ Ryan protested.
‘Oh, don’t be shy, Ryan,’ Kat said.
‘I don’t think they sing here,’ Zoe put in. ‘It doesn’t seem like the singing type of place.’
‘Oooh, you lucked out, buddy,’ Vincent said. ‘Though I have to say it’s nice to have someone else to take the hit for me. Every time we go out to eat, I seem to celebrate another birthday.’
‘Yeah, what are you? A hundred?’ Zoe teased.
‘Hey, free ice cream and cake,’ Kat defended.
Megan watched, but Kat wouldn’t look at her again.
‘Welcome to Hunting Season,’ a waiter said, appearing across the table from where she sat.
Megan ignored him as she looked at Ryan. He’d shaved and had his hair combed neatly back into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. He lifted a water glass and took a sip and she swore she saw his tongue dart along the edge of the cup. When his eyes lifted, she was sure of it.
‘Dreamy eyes will have a micro-brew,’ Zoe said.
Megan gave her a look. It seemed her sister was making up for lost teasing. ‘The darkest one you have, please.’
‘Same,’ Ryan said.
A white linen cloth covered with a cut piece of glass over the top of the long rectangular table blocked her hand from view as she slid it under the table and on to Ryan’s knee. He tensed under her hand and she slowly rubbed along his inner thigh.
‘Can I interest you in an appetiser?’ the waiter asked.
‘Mm.’ Megan leant into Ryan. She couldn’t resist playing with him. It was the same mischievous feeling she’d had in the alley as he took pictures of the museum crime scene. Gripping his thigh, she whispered into his ear, ‘Yeah, how about an appetiser?’
‘Yes,’ he breathed.
The waiter looked at Ryan expectantly.
‘The . . . ah . . .’ He paused, lifting his menu. Megan watched his throat work, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss the sexy spot right beneath his ear. ‘Snake.’
‘Texan rattlesnake cakes,’ the waiter said. ‘Excellent choice, sir.’
‘Ew.’ Sasha wrinkled her nose.
‘Interesting. I like trying something new.’ Zoe nodded in approval.
‘I was thinking the same thing,’ Douglas agreed. ‘Try something new, my wife always says.’
‘And now you listen?’ Beatrice eyed him in disbelief. ‘What does snake taste like, sir?’
‘Chicken. They always say it tastes like chicken,’ Sasha mumbled. ‘So why don’t we just eat chicken?’
‘Ignore her,’ Zoe told the waiter.
‘And for the main course?’ the waiter asked, his hands behind his back. He didn’t write their orders down. ‘Perhaps, some of our regional cuisine? We have a nice selection of aged steaks. Or, if you prefer, there is a terrific grilled salmon with lemon glaze, lobster bisque, penne pasta with scallops and cream sauce.’ The waiter continued, as if reciting the menu he’d clearly memorised.
Megan again leant into Ryan, daring to drift her hand higher until she could feel the potent heat coming off his semi-aroused cock. ‘I think I know what I want for my main course.’
Ryan adjusted the menu, continuing to stare at it with renewed force. She looked at it, so her family would think they discussed what to eat. It didn’t matter, since everyone else had begun to place their orders and had their attention diverted to the task.
‘Oh, yeah?’ Ryan’s breathing came hard and he gripped the menu tightly. His voice weak, he asked, ‘Aged steak?’
‘Mm, not quite. I prefer my meat young and hot.’
‘Veal Parmesan?’ he whispered.
‘I want your hard dick in my mouth,’ Megan said, sliding her hand over his inner thighs. ‘I want to suck it until all the sweet creamy filling comes out.’
‘Omigod, um, oh, wow, I, um,’ he mumbled incoherently under his breath. Louder, he said, ‘Porterhouse.’
‘How would you like it cooked?’ the waiter asked.
‘Rare,’ Megan said for him, smiling innocently.
‘Oh, no, Megan, you can’t order rare meat. It’s not safe,’ Beatrice said.
‘Medium,’ Ryan said, thought he still sounded shaky. Then, quickly, he added, ‘Baked potato, ranch dressing.’
Megan pulled her hand away, giggling to herself. ‘The pasta with scallops.’
‘That was a dirty, dirty trick.’ Ryan’s breath fanned her neck and his hand slid under her gown over her bare leg only to discreetly pull back before reaching any real level of sexual intimacy. She clenched her thighs together, his playful stroke as tormenting as him thumbing her clit. ‘And you are going to pay dearly for it.’
The evening rolled along with laughter, easy conversation and heaping piles of food. At one point the chef came out to schmooze with Zoe. For Megan, the only blight was Kat’s refusal to look in her direction or talk to her directly. Ryan’s heated looks sizzled with tempered passion and halfway through the main course she felt guilty for having felt him up with no way to finish what she’d started. By the end of the meal, the guilty feeling was gone, as he’d brushed his leg and hand casually against her several times. Aroused, it was all she could do not to grab him by his shirt front and drag him towards the bathroom stalls. The fact that sex in a public bathroom was about as appealing as swimming in the bacteria-filled Hudson River kept her from doing it.
After dinner, as they walked out to the car, Ryan’s arm slipped around her from behind and pulled her gently back against his chest. As he lifted his free hand, she saw a set of car keys in it. He waved at her family, saying, ‘Goodnight, everyone. Thanks for dinner. We’ll be back at the cabin tomorrow. Zoe, thanks for letting us use the car.’
Zoe waved, giving an impishly cute grin. ‘No biggie.’
‘What are we doing?’ Megan asked, as the doors to the SUV slammed shut. Sasha’s hand showed out the side of the window, as she waved to them.
‘I called and made us reservations at a hotel here in town tonight.’ Ryan let go of her and, whistling softly, twirled the keys around his forefinger as he went to the driver side of Zoe’s small rental car.
Megan looked around. The town, settled in a valley, was at the base of the Rocky Mountains, much closer to the majestic rocks than their cabin in the wilderness. Tiny compared to New York, Miner’s Pass was a long main strip of businesses. Hunting Season and its adjoining lodge were the biggest establishment and appeared to attract the kind of wealthy crowd that normally frequented quiet out-of-the-way luxury haunts. The other businesses were geared towards tourists – bait shops, curios, country general store boasting five-dollar T-shirts – with the occasional sign for a realtor or insurance agent poking out from their woodsy-looking depths.
‘OK,’ Megan said as she opened the car door with a frown. ‘Why are we staying here in town? We have a room already.’
‘Because,’ Ryan said, starting the engine, ‘our other room is in a house full of your family and we need to be alone.’
‘We do?’ Megan hid her smile, as she fastened her seatbelt. Feeling him up under the table had obviously gotten him a lot randier than she realised if he was going to such lengths to get her all to himself. So, Mr Lucas planned on getting her alone so they could have wild crazy, loud sex all night. She was wholeheartedly supportive of his sordid plan.
‘We’re going to talk,’ he said, as he read a small piece of paper in his hand only to glance back and forth at the road signs.
‘Talk?’ Megan gave a small sultry laugh. She wiggled in her seat, parting her legs in subtle invitation.
‘Yes, talk.’
‘I like talk.’ He sounded so serious, but she wasn’t fooled. If he had anything to discuss with her, it probably consisted of some choice dirty little words. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘Not here, let’s get to the hotel.’
‘How about . . . ?’ She bit her lip. ‘Rattlesnake really does taste like chicken.’
‘Curious, wasn’t it?’
‘Mm, very. I’m so glad we had this talk. Now, I want to show you something else that you might find fascinating.’ Megan grabbed one of his hands, and brought it to her leg. He glanced down, moaning softly. She manoeuvred in her seat so her knees were angled in towards him. Inching her skirt up, she exposed her knees.
‘I need my hand.’ To prove his point, Ryan lifted it off her and looked at the paper, reading more directions. The car slowed and he turned the corner. There were no stop lights and only a few yield signs on what looked to be the main roads.
Megan grabbed his wrist and placed his hand back on her body, only this time on her naked flesh. The paper scratched and she took it from him, tossing it to the floor. ‘I need your hand, too.’
‘I don’t know where the hotel is.’
‘Right at old log cabin, left at Miner’s Cove, one mile and follow the signs from there,’ Megan said. At his look, she shrugged. ‘I’m a detective. I read the paper when you held it up.’
‘That’s more of a secret agent thing to do, isn’t it?’
She pushed his hand higher up her leg, wiggling in her seat in anticipation. His fingers neared her sex. Megan hesitated, before grabbing her seatbelt and unbuckling it. The need to have his hands on her outweighed her need for safety. Ryan turned a corner. She slid her hips to meet him. Warm fingers bumped along her sex.
‘No panties,’ he said, as if to himself.
‘I took them off at the restaurant for you, but you didn’t go exploring.’ She closed her eyes to the passing houses.
‘Your family was there, it wasn’t the time.’
‘They didn’t suspect a thing. Trust me, covert operations are my speciality. I did grow up with four sisters after all. How else do you think I got all the dirt on what they were up to?’ Megan moved, rubbing her sex against him. ‘Oh, yeah, I think you need to see what you can get out of this secret agent, Mr Lucas.’
His fingers curled against her and she wiggled until he could thrust one inside. Holding him in place, she rocked her body, tweaking her own clit as she rode his hand.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ Though the question was supposed to be cocky, she heard the breathlessness of his words.
‘Just keep driving,’ she moaned. Outside, the houses turned into dark valley and the flash of dim streetlight stopped pulsing through the window. Tugging her breast, she worked a tight nipple over the top edge of her tight bodice. The pressure of the gown combined with her pinching fingers sent little jolts of pleasure down to her wet pussy, like a thread tying the two together.
‘Tell me how I feel to you,’ she demanded, wanting to hear his voice.
‘Wet, hot,’ he breathed heavily, making weak noises in the back of his throat. One hand gripped the wheel and he determinedly looked at the road.
‘You can do better than that.’ She pushed down, gasping at the magnificent sensation it caused.
‘You feel like the fires of hell.’
Megan gasped, stunned.
‘Mm, yes, hell.’ He stroked her gently. His fingers moved with a deft precision born of sudden urgency, cupping her sex as she rocked on to him. Her fingers were there, moving with his, parting her soft folds and encircling her clit. ‘And you, my temptress, are tormenting me with the feel of moist velvet on my fingers without hope of sinking my cock in you any time soon.’