Body of Law (Body of Law #1) by Amanda Lance Read Free Book Online

chimichurri. And for the young lady, the pan seared duck breast with bok choy, red cabbage, and hibiscus gastrique.”
    I stared at my plate and felt my mouth begin to salivate. “Thank you.”
    The waiter turned to look at Sebastian. “Anything else, sir?”
    “Yes.” Sebastian unfolded his napkin, his smile drifting from me to my plate. “You can go away.”
    I mouthed the word ‘sorry’ just before our waiter scampered away. I turned my attention to the meal in front of me. “Wow, this looks amazing.”
    “I would say ‘I told you so’ but that seems a bit juvenile.”
    “Don’t give yourself too much credit yet.” I stuck my tongue out at him and smiled. “I haven’t even tasted anything.”
    “As many women have learned, I am an expert in all things…” He grinned wide as he searched for the word. “…tasty.”
    Instead of blushing like I thought I would, I only grinned back and reached for my wine. At the rate this night was going, I was going to need it.
     

Chapter 7
    Sebastian
     
    It was stupid to keep her with me for as long as I did. Kid-eating-lead-paint-off-the-wall stupid. Then again, maybe I wasn’t entirely to blame. The second I saw her in that dress, my cock had started doing the thinking for me. And when she fell into my arms like that and I had that brief, but sweet moment to caress her thigh, I was a goner.
    A slave to my instincts, I took her to dinner, paying for everything just like I did at the beginning of every date. Unlike them, however, I knew it wasn’t going to lead to the inevitable screw and “have a nice life.” A bittersweet revelation at best. It was all too easy to imagine those plump lips wrapped around me, my hands squeezing that perfect ass, her hands tangled in my hair while I buried my face in her snatch.
    But I knew I couldn’t have her, and maybe it was because of this that I actually cared about what she said. I took in every word, strangely fascinated about all the mundane details of her life she shared. Had she always hated coconut donuts? And how did I not know she was allergic to cats?
    And that laugh.
    God, that fucking laugh was beautiful.
    Occasionally, I’d make myself look away from her, or, more specifically, watch the way her mouth moved or the curve of her long neck. I blamed it on the wine, but even the way she chewed was alluring and I loved the adorable way she’d cover her mouth every time she went to swallow. I’d make sure she’d swallow for me, too. If she didn’t know how, I’d teach her how to taste me, how to relax her throat so that she could take every inch of me.
    Every few minutes I’d shake my head and remind myself to focus on the food in front of me.
    But then she would do something that would make me want her that much more and my thoughts would go back to wondering what shade of pink her nipples were, and what her pain tolerance would be when I ran my teeth across them. During the entire drive home from our dinner, I stared at her bare legs instead of the road, thinking about brushing my fingers through her hair, pulling the silky strands until she begged me to stop. Whether she was experienced or not, instinct told me she’d make one good little fuck. Just the subtle way she moved her hips gave me the impression that she thought about sex just as much as I did—maybe more. 
    I poured myself another drink—well deserved considering that I didn’t follow her come hither gaze when I dropped her off at her apartment. This was the first time I had ever experienced a problem like this before. Whenever I wanted a woman, there was always the same banter or flirting, followed by a quick dinner and a screw. Occasionally, a movie would replace the dinner but, given the quality of films in the theaters, a dinner was on the same pain scale. Did I like this interaction because it wasn’t the same? Or maybe because she was younger than the rest?
    Walking out onto the terrace, I swirled the cognac in my glass. In a different