“Nothing.” I rolled my eyes. “I did like her take on white truffles by filling them with buttercream, and I appreciated the caramelized almond dip. That was different.”
“Something like what?” He cupped my face in his hands. “Are you jealous?”
“No...”
He trailed his fingers across my lips. “Are you sure? You have no reason to be...”
“I’m not jealous. I’m just...It would be really nice if we went somewhere and every woman wasn’t gaping at you or flirting with you like I’m not even there—like I’m invisible.”
I remembered our last dinner date at a restaurant on Fisherman’s Wharf, how the waitress immediately blushed bright red and giggled—fucking giggled, upon seeing Jonathan.
I was pretty sure that if he hadn’t ordered my food for me, she would’ve never asked me what I wanted, because outside of saying “More water, Miss?” or “May I take your plate?” she directed all of her attention towards him.
“I could say the same for you.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Other men stare at you all the time, especially when you’re wearing a dress.”
“Well, at least I don’t flirt back.” I picked up one of the heart shaped croissants that was on the table and handed it to him. “Men won’t even talk to me when you’re around and you know it... How do you feel about these croissants? Do you like how she made them ‘pieces’ in the upside down chess square cake? Or do you think she could’ve—”
He pressed his lips against mine and pulled me into his lap, making me forget whatever I was about to say.
“First of all,” he said as he let my lips go. “I never flirt back. I simply smile and respond because that’s the nice thing to do. Second of all, the only reason I didn’t look at you during this meeting was because I knew that if I did, I’d be laying you across this table in front of everyone. And third, eight months ago I couldn’t get you to go out in public with me and now you’re showing me affection all the time—which, I fucking love I must say, but I think you are jealous. As a matter of fact, I think you’re the jealous type.”
“What? I am not...”
“You are.” He kissed me again. “But I like it.”
I shook my head, prepared to tell him exactly why I wasn’t the jealous type, but he lifted me out of his lap and set me on the table. Before I could ask what he was doing, he slid the straps of my dress down and unsnapped my bra, letting it fall into my lap.
“Do you want to know how I know you’re the jealous type, Claire?” He smiled and grabbed one of the wooden sticks, placing a strawberry on it and smothering it in chocolate.
“Seeing as though I’m not, it’d be pretty interesting to hear your thoughts...”
“Hmmm.” He moved the strawberry over my breasts, letting the chocolate drip over my nipples. Then he slowly moved it towards my mouth. “Eat it...”
I took a few small bites and swallowed. “I can see how dripping chocolate on me proves that I’m the jealous type.”
“You ran onto that stage last year and kissed me in front of everyone because you were jealous that Stacy was pretending to be my girlfriend, because you didn’t want her anywhere near me.”
“No...I ran up there to prove to you that—” I stopped once he leaned forward and licked one of my nipples.
“I think that deep down that’s the real reason why you ran up there—you didn’t want her to have me.” He slowly took my other nipple into his mouth and ran his fingers through my hair.
“That’s not true...” I murmured.
He looked into my eyes and smiled. Then he dipped one of his fingers in chocolate and pushed it into my mouth.
“I wanted to fuck you right on that stage when you did that...” He waited until I’d sucked his finger clean. “But seeing as though you didn’t do it out of jealousy...”
My breath caught in my throat as he pushed my shoulders down so my back was against the table.
“There are other reasons that clearly prove you’re the jealous type...”
I moaned as he shifted the bottom of my dress up to my stomach, as he leaned forward and pressed a long, hot kiss between my thighs.
“The real reason why you always go as my date to company functions isn’t because you’re trying to be a good girlfriend...” His voice was low. “It’s because you don’t want another woman to get close to me without knowing I’m taken. And you make sure that they know because you never let my hand go...Am I drawing the wrong conclusions?”
I didn’t say anything. I just bit my lip as he flicked my clit with his tongue in between sentences—rendering me completely helpless.
He sat up and grabbed another strawberry, letting the warm liquid drip onto my stomach. He kept his gaze locked on mine as he smeared it across my navel.
“You make Angela text you anytime I have a one on-one meeting with a female client...” He swirled his tongue around my skin, gently licking everything and holding my thighs still. “And you always call right before those meetings... Or show up to my office as soon as they’re done...” He kissed his way up to my neck. “You think I haven’t noticed?”
“Jonathan...”
He let out a low laugh and blew a kiss against my ear. “You still don’t think you’re the jealous type?”
I was trying not to give in. He was kissing my lips and softly caressing my breasts with his hands.
“Am I going to have to fuck you on this table to make you tell me the truth?”
I shook my head and he slowly pulled my legs apart.
“Then tell me the truth, Claire...Tell me you were jealous when you ran up on that stage...”
“I was a little jealous...”
“A little?” He grinned and trailed his fingers against my lower lips.
I sucked in a breath as he massaged my swollen clit with his thumb, as he used his other hand to grab another chocolate strawberry. “A lot...”
“How loud do you think you would scream if I fucked you right now? Do you think the women on the other side of that door would get the point?”
I gasped and squeezed my legs around him. “Please...We have...” I didn’t want to cum on the catering table. “We have other...other appointments to go to...”
He narrowed his eyes at me, but he slowly pulled me back up and licked one last drop of chocolate off my breasts. “We’ll finish this tonight.”
Hours later, Greg pulled the town car into a small shopping plaza and slowed as he approached the speed bumps.
“Okay, Claire...” Jonathan let out an exasperated sigh. “This is the last appointment of the day. If you don’t like this place, you’re going to have to pick one of the other eight because I’m not putting up with another day of this shit.”
“Seriously? This is our wedding. Don’t you want it to be perfect?”
“I don’t have to have a wedding and you know that. I just want to marry you—the sooner the better.”
I sighed. Since I’d insisted on having a separate caterer for the main dinner, we’d been testing different sweets caterers all day. While most of them were good, none of them left me that impressed. Either the execution was slightly off, the presentation wasn’t eye-catching enough, or the taste of the food left much to be desired.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll try not to be so critical. The last place wasn’t that bad, it’s just...”
“Just what?”
“There was this place back in Pittsburgh—Stella’s. I used to use them for our company functions and they were phenomenal. It was a tiny business, but the woman who owned it worked magic every single time. She always went out of her way to make sure every fruit and h’ordeuvres display was designed to perfection. Plus, she made the best catered food I’ve ever had in my life. I think I’m just comparing everything to that...”
He reached over and held my hand. “If we have to look another day, that’ll be fine. I want this to be the wedding of your dreams.”
“Does that mean you’ll give me an extra month to plan it?”