Last Dance: Club Curve Series by Tamrin Banks

Author:Tamrin Banks [Banks, Tamrin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tamrin Banks
Published: 2023-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Xavier

That night, I lead my queen into the dining room and smile when I settle her at the end of the long table and then sit to her right side. She lifts a blond brow at me and I chuckle.

“Aren’t you going to sit at the end of the table? The head of the table, I mean.”

“I don’t need to sit at the head of the table. My men know who’s in charge here. I just need to sit next to you.”

She shakes her head and I nod at the man in the doorway. The man there leaves to tell the cook that we’re ready for dinner.

I turn to Tally and groan when I get a good look at her. She’s wearing a long indigo-colored gown that clings to all of her curves. It’s low-cut across her chests which makes for a mouthwatering display. I want to feast on that rather than the food that’s been prepared for us.

The chef comes out himself and oversees the placement of the first course. A delectable little plate each of tiny appetizers.

Tally leans towards me after the chef leaves the room. “This isn’t all that we’re having, right? I’m starving.”

Chuckling, I pick up one off my plate and hold it out to her, cupping one hand underneath it. She studies me warily but then leans in and takes a delicate nibble at the corner. Her eyebrows lift in astonishment and she moans which has my cock jerking to attention in my pants. I want to wriggle and move my dick until it’s more comfortable but I won’t. Not in front of my queen.

I hear one of my men behind me clear his throat and I jerk around to glare at him, the appetizer being crushed in my clenching hand. Raoul glares at him and then pulls him out of the room, his icy eyes cold, salt and pepper hair perfectly styled.

“Asshole,” I grind out between clenched teeth. But I trust Raoul to make sure that the man understands his mistake.

I turn back to Tally whose eyes have widened to a comic degree. “What was that about?”

“Doesn’t matter. Tell me more about yourself.”

I barely taste what I’m sure is a spectacular dinner because all I can see, taste and smell is her. Sweet and spicy floral. Those three words are all her. All the time.

She finally takes a deep breath and stares at me, grimacing. “Oh shoot. I’ve spent this whole time talking about me and you haven’t told me anything about you.”

I shrug. “I talked all afternoon. I think we’re even.”

At the end of the meal, I lift her slender fingers to my mouth and kiss each delicate fingertip. Her pale blue eyes widen and her breath rasps out in little gasps each time I stare into her eyes and touch my lips to her fingers.

Over and over until she’s putty in my hands. Not that I actually care about that. The only thing that I care about is making her happy. From the blissful look on her face, I think I’m doing my job.

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