I pull up to the address Tilly gave me right on time, at 7:30 that evening.

To be honest, it took all my self-restraint not to show up early, I was so eager to see her again. All day long, she’s been stuck in my mind. I see her sprawled across the bed last night, those long, sexy legs of hers parted to let me stroke that tight little perfect pink pussy of hers. I want to be inside her again, to feel her tighten around me, gasp in pleasure as I fuck her…

But more than that. I want to get to know her, too.

So here I am, in a suit and tie, outside her house, with a sitter taking care of Lina at home while I wait for Tilly to come outside.

And soon she does, the little door of her apartment building opening to frame her in the light for a second. I just have long enough to glimpse the pretty, pale pink dress she’s wearing, with her blonde hair piled up on her head, and then the door shuts, leaving her yard dark as she crosses to the pavement.

She opens my car door and climbs in, and I get a better view now. She looks amazing, and her dress clings just the right amount in all the right places. But it’s the bright, open smile she flashes my way that really catches my eye. “Killian,” she says, and her voice is a purr, every bit as sexy and sweet as I remember.

I lean across to catch her in a soft, slow kiss, unable to help myself. Her lips part under mine, submitting, and she tastes as incredible as she smells. When we part, I grin at her. “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Thanks for planning a surprise. I just hope I dressed right for whatever this mysterious date is.” Then her cheeks flush a little, going pink. “I mean, if this is a—”

“It’s a date,” I cut her off, still smiling as I start the car. “I hope you like seafood.”

She arches a brow at me. “I do. Why’s that?”

But I just shake my head, grinning. “You’ll find out.”

She leans back in her seat to watch me drive. “Do you like keeping secrets, Killian?”

I laugh. “Only the good kind. I’d call them surprises, not so much secrets.”

She smirks and settles in to her seat. “We’ll find out.”

We banter back and forth as I pull onto the highway. But when we reach the downtown area, and I pull up to the skyscraper district, she falls silent, scanning the buildings around us. And when I pull into the lot outside the Marquee, arguably the best restaurant in the city, her eyes go wide.

“Am I underdressed?” she whispers as a valet steps out to open her door.

I reach across the seat to tuck one finger under her chin, tilting her face to mine for another quick kiss before we climb out of the car. “Don’t be silly. You look absolutely gorgeous.”

She blushes, but at least she seems to believe me, and her worry dissipates as she follows me into the elevator up to the restaurant. “I’ve heard people talk about this place,” she murmurs as the elevator heads upwards—all the way up to the very top of the highest building in town. “But I never thought about actually coming here.”

The doors open, and her breath catches.

My smile widens. “I’ve only been here once before,” I say. “But after taking in that view alone, I knew I’d need to come back.”

She arches a brow. “Is this where you take all your ladies to show off?”

“Yes, actually,” I reply, but when her face falls, as we walk toward our table, I loop her arm through mine and lean in close to whisper. “I brought Lina here to celebrate her first day of kindergarten.”

Her face flushes, and she can’t quite hide the relief on her face as she laughs and lowers her eyes. “Ah, of course.”

“I have to admit though,” I say, “Last time our menu options were limited. We stuck to the kids’ options. All delicious, but I hope the adult menus live up to them.”

“Well, if it’s terrible, you’ll just have to find some way to make it up to me later,” she says with a wink, and my veins go hot at the suggestion in her voice.

Later… Oh yes, I have some ideas for what I want to do to her later. But I just raise one eyebrow, a playful smirk on my mouth. “Depends how well you behave, remember?”

Now her cheeks really turn red. But, “Promises, promises,” is all she replies with a wink and a slight shake of her head. Then the waiter arrives to take our orders, and for a few moments, the heat in the air fades.

Which is good. Because if I keep thinking too hard about what I want to do later tonight, it’s going to cause problems as we sit in the middle of this fancy restaurant. I cross my legs anyway, just as a precaution, and lean on one elbow as I watch her scan the menu and place her order. After the waiter leaves, she glances up at me with another of those fleeting, shy smiles of hers. They drive me wild.

“Tell me about yourself, Tilly,” I say.

She presses her lips together for a moment, then lifts one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “What do you want to know?”

Everything, I think. “Whatever you want to share,” I say aloud.

She clears her throat and meets my eye. “Well. You know what I do for a living already.”

I smile. “Did you always want to be a princess when you grew up?” I joke.

She laughs, then shakes her head, and a faraway look comes over her face. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my job. The kids especially. But what I really want to do is write children’s books.”

“Picture books?” I ask.

She nods. “But it’s really hard to break into that world, because you need to pair with an artist to even be considered by publishers, and I haven’t met the right artist who I really click with, who wants to tell the same stories I do.”

“What kind of stories are those?” I rest my chin in my hand, unable to look away from her, even when the waiter returns to pour our drinks.

“Adventure stories mostly,” she replies. “Stories that show little girls—and little boys—that they can grow up to be whoever they want to be. And that they don’t have to follow what everyone else is doing. They can march to the beat of their own drum, you know? Decide their own fate.”

I smile. “Sounds like the best kind of book.” I lean back in my chair and lift an eyebrow. “You’ll have to let me read one sometime. I can share it with Lina.”

Her throat tightens with a swallow, but her smile widens. “Really? You’d want to read one?”

“Of course. I’m interested in getting to know you, Tilly. What better way to do that than by reading the work you create from the heart?”

“What about you?” She tilts her head, considering me. “What’s your heart’s desire?”

“Well, you already know the most important thing in my life. My daughter Lina,” I add, and her smile softens. “I’m a single father, so she takes up a lot of my spare time. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I cherish every minute I get with her.”

“Is her mother in the picture at all?” Tilly manages to keep her voice even, but I sense the hesitation on her face, the slight pull of a frown at the corners of her mouth.

I sigh, thinking about her. “She gets Lina every other weekend. I won priority custody, after the divorce. There were…” I hesitate, not sure how best to explain this without violating my primary rule about the woman I used to be married to—I don’t like to criticize her unless I really need to explain what happened. Talking about our shitty ending does nothing to change it, and it only serves to piss me off all over again when I think about how much pain she caused Lina in the process. I clear my throat. “Things didn’t end well. But I make sure Lina has the best possible life, now.”

Tilly nods, concern written all over her face. But she doesn’t press me for details, and I’m grateful for that. “Lina’s lucky. Sounds like she’s got a really great dad.” Tilly flashes a slight grin, then. “But, I might be biased.”

I smile. “Well, you seem a good judge of it. She warmed up to you so fast—normally Lina is shy as all get out when she first meets a new person.”

“I’ve got a way with kids,” Tilly replies.

“I noticed. Is that why you want to write for them?”

She nods eagerly. “I love inspiring kids one-on-one. So I figured, what better way to reach so many more kids at once than I ever could talking to them each in person? That, and I just love telling stories.”

“Tell me one, then,” I say, and she laughs.

“What, now?”

“Sure.” I shrug one shoulder. “Tell me a story about you. Something real.”

She pauses for a moment, tapping on her chin. Just then, the waiter reappears with our meals, and we take a moment to pick at our plates. We both groan in appreciation for the food, and she closes her eyes with a happy smile. Finally, after a few bites have gone down easy, she clears her throat. “Okay, I’ve got one. When I was sixteen, my parents moved from the country to the city. I’d never even visited a city before that—I grew up in the country, with about twenty people in my class and cows for neighbors.”

I laugh. “So how did that move go?”

“Well, my first night in the big city, I couldn’t sleep a wink. I stayed up all night, because the noises never stopped—car horns, people yelling, buses passing. Finally I tiptoed out into the living room, and I found my mom sitting at the kitchen table, also wide awake. I asked her what she was doing, and she said she was acclimating, like a fish.”

I lift an eyebrow. “A fish?”

She smiles. “We used to grow trout to sell, out on our old farm. Aquaponics rig. Anyway, the way you get a fish to adjust to a new tank is, you put it into a bag full of water from its old tank, and put that bag into the new water. First it adjusts to the temperature. Then you let in a little new water, let it mix with the fish’s old water until it adjusts to that. And then, finally, you plunge it into the tank for real. By then, it’s had time to adjust to the little changes one at a time, and the big overall change doesn’t shock its system.”

“So you were a country fish in a big city tank?”

She nods. “I sat up with my mom that night, just absorbing the sounds. Getting used to them, letting them into my head. Not letting them bother me. By the time we dozed off together on the couch at 6am, I hardly even noticed the sirens in the distance. And the next night, I went to sleep right off the bat. Same as every night since.”

“Your mom sounds like a smart woman.”

“She is.” Tilly shifts in her seat, slides a little closer to me. “And I’ve been a city girl at heart ever since. Even after my parents moved back to the country, I stayed here.”

“No regrets about losing that quiet life?” I tilt my head.

She shakes hers. “Once you get used to the noise of the city, it’s hard to go back to the quiet.” She nods her head toward the window. I glance over at the view, stretching across the whole skyline. With a couple stars winking overhead and the city lights scattered across the ground, it looks beautiful. “Besides, I’d miss all the excuses you get to dress up here.”

I grin, my eyes dipping to take in her outfit once more. It might be pink, like her princess dress, but it’s a muted shade, one that matches her skin tone perfectly. And this dress, unlike her gown, hugs every inch of her curves. It also dips just low enough to reveal a few inches of her cleavage, which only serves to remind me just how perfectly shaped her breasts are underneath it. Between that and her curvy hips, her slender legs crossed below them… “I have to admit,” I say, my gaze lingering on those legs. Her dress hem has slipped up a few inches, revealing a long, smooth line of her thigh. “I’m glad you don’t do the puffy tulle sparkle dresses all the time. This one suits you far better.” I reach over to brush the outside of her leg with my fingertip.

She shivers and leans closer to me. “Don’t worry.” She arches a brow, as though reading my mind. “I might have to wear a silly outfit for my job, but I am a… very…” With that, she shifts her chair closer to mine, and slides a hand onto my knee. “Mature woman.” Her hand creeps higher. Comes to rest against my crotch, and she squeezes just hard enough to feel the outline of my cock through the fabric of my pants.

I’m already stiff from the sight of her, but now I go even harder, gritting my teeth as the blood rushes south. “Is that so?” I ask, my voice dropping lower. At the same time, I shift my napkin higher, to hide my waist from sight. There aren’t a ton of other people in the restaurant, but enough are within eyesight. Not to mention our waiter, who’s still hovering.

But I don’t stop her.

“Mm, really,” Tilly assures me, as her hand works at the buckle of my pants. She undoes it, and slips her fingers beneath, tugging on the waistband of my boxers.

“I can’t decide if this should count as good or terrible behavior, Princess,” I murmur.

She presses her hand under my boxers, and runs her silky smooth fingertips over the hard length of my shaft. I suck in a breath through my teeth when she slides that hand around my base, and begins to stroke along my length, her hand still loose, but her fingers curling in around me, tightening with each slow stroke. “Why, still trying to decide whether you’ll have to spank me later, Knight?” She lifts an eyebrow again, her eyes white hot with desire.

I lean in to whisper my reply, my breath hot against her cheek. “Right now, I’m leaning toward definitely.”

She sucks in a breath, but doesn’t stop. As a matter of fact, she starts to pump me harder, tightening her fist around my cock. I can feel it jump in her fist as she takes control, masterful at this. “I have been a very naughty girl,” she replies, her voice low with want.

But as hot as this is, and as sexy as she gets when she takes control, I don’t want her to. I want to be the one in control. So I shuffle my chair a little closer to hers, and reach over to slide my hand up her inner thigh. She stiffens, just for a moment, and our eyes lock, the rest of the restaurant fading to background noise.

“Two can play at this game, princess,” I whisper. With that, I let my hand creep under her skirt, up to the edge of her panties. I stroke her through the fabric, gratified to hear her suck in a sharp breath through her nose. And even more gratified to feel how damp those thin, flimsy little panties of hers are. She’s already wet for me, as hungry for me as I am for her.

I tug the fabric aside with one finger and slip another underneath them, one eye on the restaurant around us. So far nobody seems to notice our under-the-table activities. Which is good, because as Tilly tightens her grip on me and twists her hand so her thumb grazes along the spongy, sensitive tip of my cock with every stroke, the pressure builds in my gut. And the last thing I’m going to do right now is let her win this.

I drag my index finger along her slit, back and forth, slowly at first. I coat my finger in her juices. Add a second finger, and make sure to get them both nice and wet. I circle around her clit with each stroke, teasing her, watching her face flush and her body buck against the chair each time I reach that sensitive spot. Then, without warning, I press my fingers inside her, both at once, deep enough to draw a gasp of pleasure from her.

At the nearest table, an older woman glances over, eyes narrowed in disapproval.

“Keep talking, Princess,” I murmur, smirking. “Or someone will notice you’re in distress.”

“Well… whose fault… is that?” she replies, though her voice comes out tight and strained between deep breaths of air, as I start to finger-fuck her, thrusting in and out in time to the rhythm with which she’s stroking my cock.

“You did tell me you’d been bad,” I point out, my voice still soft, head bent close to hers. The woman at the other table seems to decide we’re just being an overly affectionate couple and turns back to her own meal, though her mouth remains pursed in a moue of distaste. “This is one way to ensure your continued good behavior.”

“Good behavior?” She pauses for a moment, body going stiff as my fingertips graze her G-spot, right along her inner front wall, a spot that makes her whole body shiver with pleasure. “This… still seems… pretty naughty to me.”

“That’s your opinion,” I reply, grinning. She’s almost forgotten about my cock entirely now, and seems to remember at the same moment I do. She renews her fisting, her fingers sliding up and down my velvety shaft, gripping the hard steel core beneath. But I continue to finger her, too, faster and harder, and soon she loses her grip on me again, too distracted to keep it up. I love that. How easily I can seize control, distract her, drive her wild with pleasure. “In my opinion, you’re behaving quite well right now,” I whisper against her neck, and then I kiss the soft spot just under her ear. She breathes in sharply, and I nip at the skin there gently, making her lean into me, lost in the sensations.

“Fuck, Killian, you have to stop,” she whispers. “I’m going to come.”

“Are you?” I arch a brow, still smirking. I still my fingers inside her. “I can stop if you want.”

She grits her teeth in frustration. Twists in her chair, then bucks against my fingers a little, trying to make me move again. “No, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I wait, hand held in place, fingers immobile.

She swallows hard. Glances around the restaurant and shuts her eyes for a moment, seeming more frustrated than ever. Finally, she growls, “Don’t stop,” under her breath, and I swallow a laugh as I start to thrust my fingers into her again.

With my free hand, I reach over and tilt her face toward mine. “Just be quiet when you come,” I murmur.

“Easy for you to say,” she replies, and squeezes the base of my cock just once, a reminder she still has her hand down my pants.

In response, I tug her forward and claim her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips part, her tongue swirling around mine, just as I begin to finger her again, faster, relentless now. Within seconds, she’s moaning against my mouth, shuddering under me, her pussy tightening. I tilt her head, deepen the kiss, and when she comes, the sound is muffled, drowned between our mouths.

I pull away, and draw my fingers out of her at the same time. She’s panting, flushed, her eyes glassy with want, as I slide back into my own chair.

The old lady is glaring at us again, but the rest of the restaurant is eating away in peace, oblivious to what just happened under their very noses.

Tilly still has her hand down my pants. She pulls it away, but I grab her wrist before she can move any farther. Draw her back down toward me. “Bathroom,” I whisper against her neck. “Now.”

After all that build-up—and after feeling her come, hearing her moans, tasting her pleasure on my lips as her orgasm hit her… I need to claim her again.

Now.