“Do you like oysters?”
“I like all kinds of seafood. You can’t know Marlon Farentino and not do so. I ate my first piece of gator here. It wasn’t bad.”
“Here. Taste.”
Before Randi knew what he was doing, Quasar had scooped some oyster into a spoon to feed to her. Automatically her lips parted, and she sucked the oyster into her mouth, knowing he was watching her. She then took her tongue and licked around her lips. She couldn’t help noticing his gaze followed every movement of her tongue.
“Do you want to try some of my crab cakes?” she offered.
“No thanks, but you can feed me a fry.” When she reached for her fork, a crooked smile touched his lips. He said, “Use your fingers.”
His words sent her already throbbing center skyrocketing. The air between them was sizzling. And why did her mind pick that moment to remember how her bottom had felt plastered against him downstairs earlier? There was no mistaking his huge erection pressing against her.
Knowing he was waiting, she lifted what she thought was the longest fry between her fingers and leaned toward him, directing her hand to his mouth. It opened. She slid the fry inside and nearly moaned when his tongue came into contact with her fingers. It had been deliberate. She was sure of it, and it only made the sexual awareness between them that much more keen.
“Thanks,” he said, and that single word spoken in a deep, husky voice washed over her like warm honey.
She stared at him, breathless. Hot. Totally turned on. “You’re welcome.”
She nervously ran her tongue over her lips, tempted to lick the spot on her finger where his tongue had touched her, as well. Just looking into his eyes all but told her he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. But she knew neither of them was ready for that part of a relationship.
Deciding they needed to talk about anything that wouldn’t stir the intense attraction between them, she asked, “So, Quasar, what’s your favorite sports team?”
* * *
IT WAS CLOSE to eleven when Quasar walked Randi to her car. After sharing a meal at Marlon’s, he’d suggested they take in a movie. Convincing herself that the new James Bond movie was something she truly wanted to see, she’d agreed with his idea.
It had been a unique experience for her to sit in the theater, sharing popcorn with Quasar and pretending to watch the big screen, while her entire focus was on him. She had sat there remembering how he’d fed her a few of his oysters at Marlon’s and she’d done the same with him and her fries. And the more they’d done so, the more the air surrounding them became electrified to the point that temptation, the likes of which she’d never felt before, had rocked through her veins.
After the movie, they’d stopped at a café for coffee and shared a slice of lemon pound cake. Deep down she had a feeling he wasn’t ready for their day together to end any more than she was and was merely drawing out their time.
They hadn’t engaged in much conversation since getting off the trolley a few blocks back. Instead they walked to her car in intimate silence. Even now she could feel tremors spreading low in her belly with every step she took beside him.
He was holding her hand as they walked. He’d done the same while sitting beside her in the movies. There had been something about their fingers entwined that made every nerve ending in her body ripe with passion. The man was temptation, walking or sitting.
“Nice night,” he finally said.
She glanced around. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”
Other people were walking about, taking advantage of the beauty of the night. Pools of light from the street lamps shone on various car tops, while the intense glow from a full moon illuminated their paths. The scent of some flowering plant floated in the air, and the low hum of insects invaded the night.
“This is my car,” she said, coming to a stop in front of the white Lexus two-seater.
He studied the car appreciatively, then smiled at her. “This looks like you.”
She chuckled. “Does it?”
“Yes. Sleek, stylish and seductive. I like it.”
Randi couldn’t help but smile, pleased he thought she was those things. “Thanks, and I’m glad you like my car.”
“I like you even more.”
A part of her wished she could dismiss his charm. “Do you?”
“Yes. And I enjoyed my time with you today, Randi.”
She decided to be honest. “I enjoyed my time with you today, too.”
He stared down at her with an intense expression, then reached out and touched her cheek, caressed it. “I want to see you again.”
She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. It was either do that or be tempted to reach up and wrap her arms around his neck. “Why?” She needed him to tell her the reason.
“Because after spending time with you today, I’m not ready to let you drive away with the thought of not seeing you again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you cast a spell on me.”
Her lips tightened. “I don’t have the ability to cast spells, Quasar. Nor do I predict lotto numbers or forecast the outcome of elections.”
Evidently something in her tone alerted him that she hadn’t found his statement amusing. He touched her arm. “Hey, I was just joking,” he said softly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “No, I’m the one who should apologize,” she said softly. “Your words reminded me of the ridicule I got when certain people, those I considered friends, found out about my psychic abilities. I heard the jokes about casting spells, sharing winning lotto numbers and forecasting elections. It made perfect sense to them that if I had these psychic abilities, I should be able to do all those things and more. If I couldn’t, that meant I was a fake.”
He was quiet for a moment and then said, “Again, I apologize for the thoughtless tease, Randi. I want to see you again. It has nothing to do with any spell. I find you desirable. More desirable than any woman I’ve known. So if you’re okay with it, I’d like to visit you next weekend.”
“You live in Charlottesville, and I live in Richmond.”
He nodded. “You’re talking about an hour’s drive. You would be worth it.”
“Would I?” She wished he wouldn’t stroke her cheek like that or look at her with those dark eyes that could spin her body into a mass of sexual need, something she wasn’t used to experiencing.
“Most definitely.”
Was she imagining it or had he shifted his stance, leaning in a bit closer to her? Needing to keep her sanity, she said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you tell me earlier today that you didn’t do long-term relationships?”
He held her gaze. “Yes, I did say that.”
“In that case, why are you suggesting that we see each other again?”
He slowly dropped his hand and shoved both in the pockets of his jeans, like she’d done with hers. His gaze held hers, as if her absolute attention was totally and completely necessary. As if he’d given what he was about to say some serious thought. “The reason I want to see you again is that the thought of not doing so is something I can’t handle right now.”
He paused a moment and then continued, “Don’t ask me to explain, because I can’t make you understand when I don’t fully understand myself. All I know is that since that night we saw each other in Charlottesville, you’ve constantly been on my mind, even when I didn’t want you to be. I’ve thought