He nods for me to continue eating. “It pleases me to see you enjoy it. I know my effort wasn’t wasted.” “Oh, come on,” I say teasingly. “Did you really prepare this yourself?” He smirks. “Yes, I did. Is that so hard to believe?” For a moment, I’m deeply moved until… “Ah, is this part of your second date schtick? Invite the girl back to your place for an amazing gourmet meal prepared by your hand?” A shadow falls across his face. “I’ve never done this for anyone. Never even wanted to.” “Oh…” is all I can manage to say, sensing I’ve offended him. I attempt to lighten the mood. “Who knew Russian food could taste so amazing?” I take another bite. Nathan closes his eyes for a couple of seconds and takes a deep breath as if trying to calm his nerves. “What? Did you think we only ate gruel and stone-hard bread in Russia?” Uh-oh, this just took a turn for the worse. “No, of course not. Honestly, I never really gave the matter much thought. But,” I gesture at the meal. “Now I know, Russ

Holy fuck. I relent, relaxing back onto the cushions. “Proceed.” His eyes lock with mine as he gently pushes the fabric of my dress up to my waist. He slips his fingers into the waistband of my panties and draws them down off my hips, down off my thighs, down over my knees. He never breaks eye contact with me. I don’t even care how wet they must feel in his hands as he tosses them aside. Nathan lowers his head and begins drawing hungry hot kisses up the length of my quivering thighs. He takes his time, his mouth steadily making its way toward my slick vagina, driving me wild with anticipation. When his tongue finally slides over my throbbing bud, the moan escapes my throat unbidden. He slips his long fingers up inside me, in and out, in and out as he sucks and teases my clitoris with his tongue. I grab fistfuls of his long chestnut-brown hair and grind my sex against his mouth. It’s been so long, and Nathan feels so fucking good. The sweet torture is quickly reaching culmination,

To work on our cars,” I say sardonically. “She’s a highly skilled doctor, Mrs Wood. What do you think she can be recruited for?” Those ice-cold gray eyes fix upon me with a deadly warning. “Careful, little prince,” he says coolly. “You may be my nephew, but nothing’s written in stone.” It’s times like these that treasonous rumors spring to the surface. All agree that my father was gunned down in the street and that the assailant was never caught. Some said that it was fratricide, that Mrs Wood arranged the hit on his older brother. Those who made the mistake of verbalizing this opinion are no longer breathing. “Think of the timing, uncle,” I say urging him down a different path. “You know we just lost our house surgeon, but I think we’ve found a new one. I can bring her in, but I need time.” He broke out into raucous laughter, grabbing his round belly. “Go ahead, pull it out,” he says gesturing at my groin. “I must see this magic cock of yours that turns respectable, law-abiding do

I sigh heavily. The last thing I need is more complications with Madison and my upcoming nuptials. But Layla sounds like he’s about to blow a gasket and I’d prefer he not jeopardize his college career by knocking out a fellow student or god forbid a professor. Besides, he couldn’t care less about Layla, it’s the notion of explaining my new steady girlfriend that’s giving me pause. In our world, we have wives, and on the side, we see one of the initiated girls from the joint harem. You sure as hell don’t go on the outside and date well-educated doctors. Mrs Wood’s not from the old school. If I can trust anyone with this, it’s my little brother. “Alright, when should I expect you?” “I have to turn in this damn paper then I’m out of here. I’ll arrive Friday afternoon. I’ll call you from the road.” “Sounds good, see you then, Mrs Wood.” “Ben.” “Yeah?” “Thank you.” I chuckle. “Later man.” I switch off my phone. No more interruptions. I snatch up the bottle of champagne and glasses,

I wash my face and brush my teeth. By the time I finish, he’s climbed into bed and turned out the lights. I slip under the covers and nuzzle into him. Again, he neither pushes me away nor reciprocates. I swear, he might as well be a life-size Ken doll lying next to me. Fine, let’s see him ignore this. I slowly caress his lower abdomen. My fingers play with the patch of hair trailing down from his belly button. I slip my hand lower into the waistband of his boxer briefs. By the time my hand reaches his dick, it’s already semi-hard. I begin kissing his shoulder and chest, slowly making my way down his abdomen, all the while fondling his manhood. He’s fully hard in my hand, and I’ve grown wet with anticipation. But first I plan to give him a rare treat. I part my mouth and lean in. “Not tonight,” he says tersely, shifting away. “I’m tired.” I can’t believe he’s playing this hard to get. Based on the abundant evidence, he’s totallyupfor it. I persist. “I think he’d beg to differ,” I s