A Question of Love by Jess Dee Page A

beat a little faster. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure.
    “How does it feel now, T?” Gabe asked again.
    She turned her head towards the sound of his voice and searched for his mouth. She found his lips and treated herself to a long, dreamy kiss. “It makes me feel like spending the evening at home,” she whispered on a sigh.
    Gabe pulled away and dipped his hand back into his pocket. The soft humming ceased. He smiled at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Not a chance. You and I are going to dinner.”
    Tina spent said dinner in a state of persistent excitement. While Gabe gave the impression this was just another evening out, she knew from his dark eyes and high color he was as aware of the butterfly as she was. He turned the damn thing on at strategic and inappropriate moments. As the maitre d’ showed them to their table, he dipped his hand in his pocket. She almost tripped as sensation flooded her pussy. It was off by the time they were seated. When the waiter came to take their order the toy began to buzz again. Tina requested her food in a high-pitched voice, and Gabe partook in a longer-than-normal discussion about the merits of red wine versus white with the waiter.
    This wasn’t the first time Gabe had suggested she wear a toy out. Last Friday evening he’d searched her drawer and found a small butt plug. She’d sat through two hours in a movie with the damn thing wedged inside her. Gabe had not looked at the screen. He’d spent the entire time watching her squirm, a wicked smirk playing on his mouth. Her front door was closed maybe a minute after returning home before she was naked and on the carpet. Gabe made love to her with the toy still inserted in her ass. She came three times before he lost control.
    Tina rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands as Gabe chatted to the waiter. She closed her eyes, relishing the tantalizing secret they shared. In the noise of the restaurant she couldn’t hear the butterfly at work, although its effects were clear.
    The toy shut down.
    “The waiter’s gone,” Gabe said in a low voice.
    She wrinkled her nose. “Pity.”
    He responded with a deep chuckle.
    “Mmmm,” she murmured. “If the butterfly was a little wetter and a little warmer, I could pretend it was your tongue.”
    The soft humming started up again. “If it were my tongue,” Gabe murmured back, “you’d be convulsing in your seat.”
    She ground her butt on the chair, trying to increase the pressure of the toy against her pussy. “I’m almost there.”
    The vibrations stopped. She growled her discontent. He winked.
    They started up again when she took her first bite of food.
    “I thought the salmon would taste better like this,” Gabe told her.
    “It might,” she answered. “But when you tease me like that I’m not even aware of what’s in my mouth.”
    Gabe watched her with a satisfied smile. His gaze was warm, his posture relaxed. They spoke the whole way through their meal. They discussed the exhibition, which would open next Sunday night, and Tina’s anxiety about it. By the time they’d exhausted the subject, Tina felt less apprehensive, in part because Gabe had promised to hold her hand the entire time—if she needed him to.
    They chatted a little about their food, a little about Tina’s sodden underwear, and a lot about the everyday events that had taken place since the last time they’d talked on the phone, which was less than twenty-four hours ago. Gabe had taken to calling her last thing at night, every night. She relished the calls, looked forward to discussing her day with him and savored his daily updates.
    As they waited for their coffees to arrive, Gabe clicked the switch to on once again, and she sank back in her chair with a breathless sigh. Damn, it felt good—tiny streaks of pleasure flying through her nerves. She was happy. As happy as she’d been four years ago with Gabe and Connor. Maybe even happier, she admitted as desire